Escucha música Laundromat de Halsey 2025 en línea | Musica Soundtracks

Halsey - Laundromat Lyrics

My mother would round up my brother and me,
Laundry baskets on her hips,
Like the National Geographic portrait of a mother
Carrying water
And her babies
We would march foot by foot
in the scorching heat
to the Laundromat
At the bottom of the hill
Of the apartment cul-de-sac.
The hill was massive.
It would be slick with ice and snow in the winter
And the big kids would sled down it
On homemade toboggans
Made of cardboard boxes
And laundry baskets.
Little rocket ships
For the poor kids.
We’d dive to the bottom
and ricochet across the parking lot
whеre the hill openеd up into lawless concrete and pavement.
The wind would slice our cheeks raw red like sushi.
And beautiful girls
with beautiful button noses
turned pink like peppermint candy
would cheer from the landing.
In the summer the hill wasn’t so charming.
My little brother is dragging his sneakers across the curb
nasty little thumbsucker
He used a pacifier till he was 5
And even as he slept,
his mouth would pucker and suck on nothing
Oedipus baby. Mama’s boy.
I spit mine out the first time someone tried to put it in my mouth
I wouldn’t be silenced
Infanticide!
We are marching
To the Laundromat.
We arrive and immediately
I run to a familiar friend.
A big black cracked leather couch
with yellow stung seeping from duct-taped holes.
It looks like a giant monster
in the dark corner under the decaying lights.
I stick my arm inside
And fear large teeth will bite it off at the elbow.
I imagine myself pulling out my arm
and it bleeding like a stick of salami.
The first time I ever saw a whole lot of blood
was when my babysitter Jessie
invited her friends over to my house
while my mother was at work.
She told me to shut my trap
and she’d let me watch any movie I wanted on TV.
I picked The Shawshank Redemption.
They sat outside the apartment complex
and 3 boys arrived and smoked cigarettes on the porch
One girl came inside.
She was bleeding between the legs.
Dripping in thick strips like the syrup
I used to make strawberry milk
She asked to borrow a pair of pants
I was half her size
I pictured her bleeding legs
and imagined my arm dripping with the same crimson.
I waved my pretend amputated stub around
screaming for my mother.
She didn’t turn around.
She threw our still-damp clothes in the basket
And we marched back up the hill.