Ezra Furman
Ezra Furman
Ezra Furman
Ezra Furman
Ezra Furman
Ezra Furman
Ezra Furman
Ezra Furman
Ezra Furman
Ezra Furman
Ezra Furman
Ezra Furman
Ezra Furman
And what do we see here
Washing up on the beach in November
When nobody lives here
Because they've all left this beach town
For the winter
Tables and bed frames
A complete set of tarnished silver
Photographs with no names
More items are left with every crash of the grey waves
I collect it all over the course of four days
Four days
Four days alone
Hiding in a yellow beach house
Full of beetles and stones
And a silence that's freaking me out
I broke the phone
I didn't mean to but I broke it
The waves sigh and moan
I sit on the porch and I hope it
Don't start to rain again
I feel muscle pain again
I wait for the main event
Which is your voice on the phone to me
Saying the operation went smoothly
And they still can't kill us, hopefully
And you're in the car on the road to me
With your brand new body
From a Beach House was written by Ezra Furman.
From a Beach House was produced by Ezra Furman & Tim Sandusky.
Ezra Furman released From a Beach House on Fri Feb 09 2018.
On Consequence of Sound (9/2/18) Ezra Furman talked about the setting of the song:
Deserted New England beach communities in the winter time are good places to hide for a while, if you can get a key to an empty house. Too much time alone makes you go a little crazy, though. Not that I know anything...