Summer Bugs Don’t Come Back

[Verse 1]
Back porch
Plastic cup
You were drawing little halos on the tabletop
July air
Breathing ash
You said
“Watch this
It goes fast”
Lighter flick
Tiny spark
Red wings running from the dark
You laughed first
I laughed too
Then my stomach climbed the roof
[Chorus]
I don’t wanna hurt small things anymore
Used to call it harmless when we were bored
Summer bugs don’t come back
Once they’re gone
They’re gone like that
I don’t wanna hurt small things anymore
Not yours
Not mine
Not ever
[Verse 2]
Next year
Same yard
Rust creeping up the swing-set bars
You said
“We were only kids”
But I still see it when I close my lids
Brown jar
On the rail
Empty shells like tiny sails
You touched my wrist
“Let it go”
But some burned stories never float
[Chorus]
I don’t wanna hurt small things anymore
Used to call it harmless when we were bored
Summer bugs don’t come back
Once they’re gone
They’re gone like that
I don’t wanna hurt small things anymore
Not yours
Not mine
Not ever
[Bridge]
If I get a second start (oh)
I’ll be kinder with my hands
Let the wild things walk the yard
Let them live where they land
[Chorus]
I don’t wanna hurt small things anymore
Used to call it harmless when we were bored
Summer bugs don’t come back
Once they’re gone
They’re gone like that
I don’t wanna hurt small things anymore
Not yours
Not mine
Not ever

Lo-fi indie rock with jangly, slightly detuned guitars and a lazy swing kit; male vocals up close and confessional, almost a whisper. Shaky organ pads creep into the chorus, plus a gritty bass that blooms then ducks. Energy arc: hushed, guilty verses; choruses open with noisy strums and stacked harmonies, then fall into a bare, remorseful outro. Subtle tape hiss and room noise keep it raw.