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Lake Mannion

by Olympians

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    Get all 14 Olympians releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Mills and Boon, Lake Mannion, Party Boys, We'll Burn That Bridge When We Come To It, Simple Things, Complimentary Mints, Reasons to be Tearful, Red Carpet, and 6 more. , and , .

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A single pint one Thursday night resolving somewhat inevitably - a Prius middle seat subjected to this full and frank account of my internal organs' deep repressed feelings expressed as a Rorschach test of stomach fluids. And it might be that we forgot, the stale stink of old food. It might be that we forgot, sailing towards you. It's true the old cliche, humour to push people away, cos you are either too polite or cowardly to tell that face that the meat hanging behind it is at best pineapple time, at worst a plague on anything of any real worth. When was the last time you surprised yourself? Pleasant or unpleasantly. And wept until nothing was left. Just a pile of wet clothes and sick. We all had time to reflect, We are not all that we could be.
Do you hate seeing yourself in old photographs? And being reminded that your weird forced grin and loud jumpers Severely lacked the persuasive power that you'd hoped they'd had on us Now I stay home I'm tired of keeping up The tears, the noise, the crashing of bin lids, to my mind I stay home I'm gathering them up The pieces I leave everywhere I've been They're all mine Inevitably, within in a week or so I'm scared of missing out Won't you let me in? Terrified I'm old beyond my years Chronically out of touch with this - the only group of friends I still manage to miss No destiny of which to speak, you're meat that learned to cry That you'll never feel, the way fresh veal does inside You were lost and that was hard to take If you call these your best laid plans It kinda goes to show what kind of trouble we're in
The world's most needy, least troubled man is here to tell you why he feels sad. It's his bootcuts jeans - they're irrelevant. We stay the same age, as do our friends, it's just that there's more teenagers around the place. Do the right thing Steve, take yourself outside. So this is how it happens then, the steady slide from caring left to oh so realistic right Thought I'd feel more mean, but I'm just too tired. Admit to them you feel fine, I used to get sunburn from the spotlight, but now your whining is hogging it. You tell me for the millionth time I've crossed some arbitrary moral line, surely you're making them up for me. Fail the rest of your life, flush your hours down the toilet, it'll be just fine.
You were the disaffected air, I picked up one time to fit somewhere. And it fit like that grey four panel hat I'm glad you talked me into throwing out. But the attitude remained, it kept my troubles at a strict arms length And now it's tiring going out and seeing people without. Forgive me! I was scared! Or other words to that effect. The trouble is, a great disguise becomes the person that they recognise. Now every social function feels like moving Morrissey with puppetry But moping marionettes aside, business is doing just fine. Aesthetically, drawn to the cold uncaring sea, in spite of sunny forecasts hope, for sadness, trouble, tears and woe. Keeping the good news for ourselves, our worries blown to billboard size, and flown from flagpoles ten miles high, this weird self pity festival...
Party Boys 04:50
You're hiding in the toilet scrolling through your phone for days. You promised you'd show up but you're not really brought too much to say. The more you pull away the harder they tug on your sleeve so putting in the hours now buys you a quiet month at least Shaking at the thought of everything that came before You've got to show you were there, you were there, you were there. You hate being a disappointment so it's been pints the last 10 nights And their faces when you go to leave kill you, so it's like "fine, fine, fine..." So pleased with yourself when you get home - "I Saved Lives With Those Pints" No wheel ungreased no silence unbroken, but now it's bye bye week bye bye. How does it feel now that are you inside all curled up safe from the cold and all those selfish vampires They've been draining and depleting your little stockpile you've built to shield you when the cold and winter run you low How does it feel now that you are inside all curled up safe from their loud and often idiot ideas Is your trail of thought deep, fulfilling and wide or just more of the same dumb garbage it was before? The pitcher! The lager!
Simple days, where have you been? Waiting for the tide to wash my forehead clean In the right lane, but ruining everything Waiting for a day that never comes I fall for all the same lines every summer Barbeques each night drinking lager like water But now we're stuck here watching Netflix in grubby pants And who am I to hang this concert poster on my wall? We left two songs from the end Our feet sore and our phones batteries flat Words bleeding out like poison Burst from an abscess Moment you realise you're turned into a tired mess Toupee receeding A sandy coastline on my forehead Tired with a capital T of chasing around worrying how you all feel I've digested this nonsense so long I can't marry the thirst with the forced non-chalance Dull but obsessively clean Found this striped woollen hat in a shop by the sea Now even the thought of outside leaves me sweating for days Why would anyone try? That face is peering at me From every corner It's the same tired look the plughole gives the water You think you're free here But we both know how this ends
We don't have much to talk about, we've barely spoken since school. And now you've opened up your mouth and shit on everything that's good. Spraying your dumb opinions like a cheap airport perfume. You'd call a chip pan fire a friend if it'd only listen for a mere moment or two. I'd sooner not speak my mind than regret everything. Staying hard to read's an art Like all the best defences are. That was me one time Sucking the poison from the teat Obsessed but feeling overwhelmed and low Strung out but taking more on hourly Like it'd miss me when I'm gone Oh my god! Rescue me! Because I stay up most nights, rolling newsfeed. Screaming back, hopefully! Like I'd change a damn thing, just by typing. A simple mistake, the old man and the sea. Saving up your bad luck won't change one single thing. Do I need to spell it out?
Cut me off your Christmas list, I'm tired of feeling dull and uninspired. We meet up once a year and talk about the past, but that is not my style. You sincerely offer a welcoming hand (You know how I feel about that) We're cut from the same cloth, but you're a clean ironed shirt and I'm a mop for cleaning spilt brains. And it's the same as you leave at the end of the night - as we part ways - "let's not leave it so long next time" We're gathering dust Same two seats by the window Sitting toasting ourselves It's the same as you leave at the end of the night as the beers kicking in and you're dreamy and tired - confusing relief for warm feelings I find they almost entire pass me by.
Sad Songs 02:25
You said you wanted to be someone but you can barely stay awake Through some mandatory health and safety fire roleplay. They're all sad songs till you meet someone to mount the pedestal you made For the one that stole your DVDs and ran away. When New Year's done I'm going to be someone Clean clothes, regular flossing. 100% lager-free all January They're all sad songs till you meet someone to mount the pedestal you made For the one that stole your laserdisc of Independence Day


The world's least troubled man is here to tell you why he feels sad.


released October 31, 2019

Songs by Olympians
Produced by Thomas Le Beau Morley
Artwork by Joe Mackenzie
Mastered by Dan Coutant @ Sun Room Audio

Backing vocals by Thomas Cassidy


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Olympians London, UK

Hi. We're a band that lives in the South East of London. These are the songs that we have made.

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