Shoes by the Bed
The song opens with sparse, atmospheric textures—reverberant electric guitar arpeggios and whisper-quiet vocals. Early choruses add brushed drums, minimal bass pulses, and soft backing vocals, still restrained. Chorus 3 and solo erupt with thunderous distortion, dense layered guitars, and intense drumming, creating a chaotic wall of sound. The bridge slams into total silence, broken only by dry, intimate spoken word. The final chorus explodes with fully unleashed instrumentation, delivering the song’s emotional apex.
Shoes by the Bed
The song opens with sparse, atmospheric textures—reverberant electric guitar arpeggios and whisper-quiet vocals. Early choruses add brushed drums, minimal bass pulses, and soft backing vocals, still restrained. Chorus 3 and solo erupt with thunderous distortion, dense layered guitars, and intense drumming, creating a chaotic wall of sound. The bridge slams into total silence, broken only by dry, intimate spoken word. The final chorus explodes with fully unleashed instrumentation, delivering the song’s emotional apex.
Lyrics
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© Copyright 2025 - Absalom
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School bag
two shirts and jeans.
A slice of bread with cheese,
a pack of cards.
That’s all I packed.
In a minute I’ll go.
Today this is the day.
No one will even
notice I’m gone.
Mom and Dad
work late again.
They’ll come back
there’ll be shouting,
maybe worse than shouting.
I put on a shirt
with long sleeves,
so people
won’t ask questions.
Where will you go, where will you go?
Outside the world is huge and the streets are strange.
Where will you go, where?
Sit one more minute it’ll pass.
Sit, don’t step into the cold.
An empty stop at the shuttered corner store.
The Vacant light of a passing taxi paints my face yellow.
An abandoned couch in Tel Aviv,
a thin blanket, cold water from a garden tap.
A dog barks in the distance.
I curl up from the cold,
but at least no one will slam a door here.
Where did you go, where did you go?
Outside the world is huge and the streets are strange.
Where did you go, where?
Wait one more minute
why walk into the cold?
Six in the morning the garbage truck growls.
A crow calls from the telephone pole.
My breath fogs in the cold,
I wash my face at the cold tap.
An older woman hurries to the bus
throws me a glance.
I grab the bag not knowing where.
Where will you go, where will you go?
Kid with the school bag,
Where will you go?
Wandering streets with no direction.
You wanted freedom wanted out.
Here’s the world now what?
(“Avi, what’s up? Open up.”)
(“Come down, help with the groceries.”)
One second, Mom.
I freeze...
And hide the bag under the bed.
Everything’s the same.
Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow,
I’ll be brave
I’ll get up and step into the cold.
Shoes by the bed.
I’m staying.
For now.