Song Cover Image

Punching Bag

QueenSlore
QueenSlore
moody post punk revival 2004 vancouver indie scene deep resonant hammond organ carrying the main melodic hook weaving counterpoint with a driving melodic bassline sparse chiming bell like clean electric guitar minimal not distorted tight propulsive drums with a tenacious steady snare mid tempo building to an anthemic euphoric swell in the chorus bridge vocals female lead low alto range deadpan and detached in the verses cascading into melodramatic aching intensity by the chorus restrained emotion that breaks open slight reverb intimate but distant like katie sketch of the organ no harmonies single vocal line world weary delivery influences the organ post-punk, new wave, gothic rock, alternative rock Post-Punk, Gothic Rock Alternative Rock, Indie Pop, Jangle Pop, Post-Punk dark new wave brooding yet catchy minimal arrangement with maximum atmosphere production dry live room drums warm analog organ tone minimal reverb except on vocals no synths no polish diy indie post punk aesthetic

[Intro] [Verse 1] Not hate, no — never was the case, I said it straight, straight to your face. You left me grieving, no casket, no remains, Mourning a ghost that still breathes the same. [Verse 2] Same text you sent to half your phone, Thought I'd get more, guess I'm on my own. In May, you knew, the night I sat in blame, Three whole years, was it all a game? [Instrumental 2 bars] [Pre-Chorus] Kept the door wide open, waiting in the cold Now closing it forever — this story's getting old [Chorus] A bruise you kept pressing, Mistook my silence for confessing. You called me names, and now I'm gone, The door that's closed, you're leaning on. A punching bag, you hit and shove You gave me war, and called it love. [Verse 3] I threw shit too, I own my part, Still thought we were more than the rest, at the start. Your call to make, your right to choose, But you don't get to pick if I win or lose. [Interlude] [Heavy guitar solo and bass slaps] [Bridge] [Melodic and haunting vocals] I built a life from what you broke, Learned to breathe through all that smoke. Maybe we really weren't quite the same I hope you're better for having known my name. I don't pray for much, but I'll pray for you, Hope the both of us make it through. Just not together, not like before — Your ego's hurt, stop keeping score. [Pre-Chorus] Kept the door wide open, waiting in the cold Now closing it forever — this story's getting old [Chorus] A bruise you kept pressing, Mistook my silence for confessing. You called me names, and now I'm gone, The door that's closed, you're leaning on. A punching bag, you hit and shove You gave me war, and called it love.