Some memories don't ask for attention — they just stay warm. This one is for the slow reader, the journal-keeper, the designer with a window seat: a little October afternoon spent flipping through a June that never really left. Nothing dramatic, nothing heavy. Just tape, paper, and the good kind of quiet.
[Instrumental]
[Verse 1] Polaroid in the drawer A June I loved before Warm light through the screen door I keep it near
[Chorus] Postcard from June, still warm somehow The summer we said we'd remember now Postcard from June, I'm reading slow Some things just stay, wherever I go
[Instrumental]
[Verse 2] Bicycle by the fence Lemonade and nonsense Half a season, half a song Still humming along
[Chorus] Postcard from June, still warm somehow The summer we said we'd remember now Postcard from June, I'm reading slow Some things just stay, wherever I go
[Bridge] (oooo) taped up on the wall (oooo) it doesn't fade at all (oooo) taped up on the wall (oooo)
[Chorus] Postcard from June, still warm somehow The summer we said we'd remember now Postcard from June, I'm reading slow Some things just stay, wherever I go
[Instrumental]
The cover is a mixed-media collage — torn summer postcards and faded polaroids layered on kraft paper with pressed flowers, echoing the track's idea of keepsakes that keep their warmth. ☕📮