The Vidya Board

MY SHITTY WRITING



I think I hear the sounds of then,
And newfags talking,
The posts recalled, awake at 4AM,
And threads they fall, from the tenth page.
That certain culture, that certain board,

To lie in sweat, on familiar sheets,
In brick veneer on financed beds.
In a room of silent hardiflex
That certain culture, that certain board,
Brings back the '07 days,
Brings back the the late night /v/,

Out on the catalog we'd sit,
Making new shitpost threads and memes,
We'd watch the Janitor clean the board for free
And laugh and think, this is The Vidya board.

The block is awkward - it faces west,
With long diagonals, sloping too.
And in the distance, through the heat haze,
In convoys of silence the cattle graze.
That certain texture, that certain beat,
Brings forth the night time heat.

Out on the catalog we'd sit,
Making new shitpost threads and memes,
We'd watch the Janitor clean the board for free
And laugh and think, this is The Vidya board.

To lie in sweat, on familiar sheets,
In brick veneer on financed beds.
In a room of silent hardiflex
That certain culture, that certain board,
Brings back the '07 days,
Brings back the late night /v/

Out on the catalog we'd sit,
Making new shitpost threads and memes,
We'd watch the Janitor clean the board for free
And laugh and think, this is The Vidya board.

Out on the catalog we'd sit,
Making new shitpost threads and memes,
We'd watch the Janitor clean the board for free
And laugh and think, this is The Vidya board.

This is The Vidya board. (Repeated)




THE ACTUAL LYRICS



I think I hear the sounds of then,
And people talking,
The scenes recalled, by minute movement,
And songs they fall, from the backing tape.
That certain texture,that certain smell,

To lie in sweat, on familiar sheets,
In brick veneer on financed beds.
In a room, of silent hardiflex
That certain texture, that certain smell,
Brings home the heavy days,
Brings home the the night time swell,

Out on the patio we'd sit,
And the humidity we'd breathe,
We'd watch the lightning crack over canefields
Laugh and think, this is Australia.

The block is awkward - it faces west,
With long diagonals, sloping too.
And in the distance, through the heat haze,
In convoys of silence the cattle graze.
That certain texture, that certain beat,
Brings forth the night time heat.

Out on the patio we'd sit,
And the humidity we'd breathe,
We'd watch the lightning crack over canefields
Laugh and think that this is Australia.

To lie in sweat, on familiar sheets,
In brick veneer on financed beds.
In a room of silent hardiflex
That certain texture, that certain smell,
Brings forth the heavy days,
Brings forth the night time sweat

Out on the patio we'd sit,
And the humidity we'd breathe,
We'd watch the lightning crack over canefields
Laugh and think, this is Australia.

Out on the patio we'd sit,
And the humidity we'd breathe,
We'd watch the lightning crack over canefields
Laugh and think, this is Australia.

This is Australia (Repeated)