by Lillian Frances

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An exploration of loneliness.


I rattle my tongue at you, but you don't flinch.

I cannot roll my Rs, like I'm supposed to
I never felt so far, miss being local
I cannot roll my tongue, like I'm supposed to
My words are stuck like gum, beneath the table

I don't wanna leave my room, but I'm supposed to
I smoke all afternoon, it's something to do
I wish my jokes would land, they're all just laughing at me
I must speak with my hands, cuz they don't understand me

I don't wanna clean my room, and I'm not gonna
I drown in my perfume, and Spanish marijuana
I cannot roll my tongue, like I'm supposed to
I cannot roll my tongue, like I'm supposed to

I rattle my tongue at you but you don't flinch.


released September 21, 2017
Written/recorded/produced/mixed by Lillian Frances.
Aaron Shaw on the trumpet.
Mastered by Garrett Bevins.


all rights reserved



Lillian Frances Davis, California

I am sound collager, earplug enthusiast and competitive handstander from Northern California.

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