1. |
Words
02:50
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Words are a dangerous place.
There's only one sky.
There's only one sea.
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2. |
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I didn’t realize the camera you gave me was a gift reliant upon appearing together.
I didn’t realize this keyboard you gave me was a gift dependent upon playing together.
I didn’t realize the post-its you gave me were each a tiny gift conditional to sticking together.
I only realize this now, because you say I can keep them if we’re staying together.
I may be yellow, but I ain't a square:
it’s more than your tone that’s making me scared.
It makes me shutter it makes me shiver;
I don't want to be with a Native American giver.
I don't know what you're hung up on; try to retake your composure.
I developed every picture; how’s that for full exposure?
Once you learn how to play the piano, just ask your ex-boyfriend for a a new one,
and I drew and wrote on every single post-it note; I guess you can have them back if you want.
I may be yellow, but I ain't a square:
it’s more than your tone that’s making me scared.
It makes me shutter it makes me shiver;
I don't want to be with a Native American giver.
Why would you bother even having them wrapped and delivered?
I don't want to be with a Native American giver.
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3. |
Lost Cause
02:02
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You're out with your friends making new memories, while I'm trying to stave off activities that would only pull us more apart - and what good would that be?
I'm trying so hard not to say that everything is gonna be okay. I try to hold my tongue, but it's a lost cause 'cause I still remember how good it was. You think we're better off this way; I'm sure that we can be okay.
We both stopped calling and it's both for your own sake, but how many promises do you intend to break? It seems that all I do is forgive, give or take.
But... I don't mind. It's hard to stay mad when you've had the times we've had. If I hold your hand is that a lost cause or will you remember how good we were? I hope we meet again one day...
I'm so lost. I'm so lost 'cause nothing affects me like your memory does. We might be better off this way, but who are we to even say?
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4. |
Love Song '09
02:20
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I tried to write you a love song (but every memory filled me with regret) - a song you'd sing over and over (but now we're over (or aren't we over yet?).)!
A broken record is all we'll ever be. Though I wanted us to last, the past had a grasp on me. You're the sum of:
Side A — Sound future needs
B-sides — All your deeds
Your smile inspired a chorus, but when I sang, you sank your fangs and draink me. I thought as long as we kept playing, there'd always be hope for us, but you saw fit to pause it.
A broken record is all we'll ever be. Though I wanted us to last, the past had a grasp on me. You're the sum of sight a sound future needs, besides all your deeds.
Our EP's played too long - our needle's worn. There's too much pop in this song to mourn 8-track; record too scratched to even mend. Our track keeps skipping, so let's skip to the end.
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5. |
Time, Pt. 6
05:11
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If time is money (and money's overrated), what's that mean for me and my kind?
When you walked in with your hair newly-parted, you didn't know what you started but you outsmarted my mind.
I'm stuck between your world and mine and I angle back and forth. I never wanted to be that guy, but I don't know what that's worth. I wish that time was on my side.
If time is relative and mine are old-fashioned, does that mean that my future is doomed to rely on the past?
I'm picking up new phrases and accents; they're here now for good. How long will they last?
I'm stuck between your world and mine and I toggle back and forth. I never wanted to be that guy, but I don't know what that's worth. I wish that time was on my side. With that, I am on my side.
If time is borrowed, can I have it back?
If time is up, then I have killed it 'cause I had filled it with wounds to repair. But if it's ripe, well, we could take it, and maybe we would make it... is that something you could spare?
If time is linear I don't see where or what the point is (if the segments are disjointed and always moving on).
But if time is cyclical, does that mean we have another chance? Does it mean that nothing's ever truly gone?
When I pushed you away, my timeline re-centered, but you'd already entered into my innards and made me rewind.
That time is funny can't be overstated - what's that mean for me? Does that mean I'm mean? Or am I kind?
Why can't I be kind?
I'm stuck between your world and mine and I tumble back and forth. I never wanted to be that guy, but I don't know what that's worth. I miss my adult mind.
I'm stuck between your world and mine and I struggle to exist. I never wanted to be that guy, so why'd it end up like this? I miss my adult mind, but I guess that I don't mind.
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6. |
Break Her Heart
03:34
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I heard what you said: it wasn't working out and you were done with her. I saw what she wrote, and there wasn't any doubt what you had done to her. Now she's staying up all night, listening to songs that remind her of you. I thought that you were better than me... what are you trying to prove?
Only I'm allowed to break her heart.
She doesn't deserve this, your making her feel worthless - if you only knew what I put her through. She was mine to torment - you'd better leave that dormant! There's no room in her heartbreak for two. Boy, you're mistaken - you can't just reawaken those recesses of her fragile mind at your whim! What the hell is wrong with you?! You can't put her through this again. Not again... not again.
Only I can break her heart; don't you dare break her heart.
Now go back to her. Take her in your arms and tell her she's the only one for you. Ask for her forgiveness. Be thankful that you're given this opportunity to start anew. Stay with her forever. Never let her cry. Keep her safe, just as I couldn't do. Go before it's too late; go before you're both hurt; go before it haunts you, too.
Because only I'm allowed can break her heart; only I can break her.
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7. |
Just a Metaphor
03:37
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Despite what you have heard, the desert's just a metaphor.
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8. |
Much Better
06:03
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I'm tired of never being inspired. The flowers in my head have all died and I don't know why.
I like to think I surround myself with creative types of all kinds who like to think but whose eyes can't fulfill the hype in my mind's.
I like to drink (sometimes).
And I don't know what I want anymore, but I want to be better - much, much better.
Somewhere along the way I lost the drive, and all that's been keeping me alive is the hope that someday I will find someone to stimulate my mind, but I've been wrong before; looks like I am wrong once more.
It won't be long before I die or worse (I give up), or worse, I persevere, and I'm so nervous that I have no purpose here. And I feel worthless, dear.
And I don't know what I want anymore, but I want to be better - much, much better. I want to see better - much better.
I've got these paperback books, bound, but I've got no one else around to share their secrets I have found.
I've got a need for company, but it doesn't seem to come for free. This is a plea to comfort me, honestly.
'Cause I'm no good all by myself - always looking for someone else.
I want to be better; I want to see better and clearer. I want to feel better...
I can hear her say, "You do this to yourself, you're the only one to blame. Your guilt, which manifests your fear, provides an anchor for your shame, and by this time next year, you'll have disowned your own name."
Did you mean what you said? Do you think I am empty without you? It's hard not to believe, but it's harder not to make come true.
I'm tired of hurting everyone I meet and of perpetual cold feet, making excuses for defeat, playing what you've said on repeat.
And I'm tired, I'm tired; I'm so tired. I'm tired of being me.
S'been so long since I've been proud of anything I created. I used to be in control (used to think that was related), and now I'm bitter and selfish and jaded, and I hate it.
And I want to get-- and I want to feel-- and I want to see-- and I want to deal-- and I want to be better, and I want it to be real.
I want to be better - much, much better, but I don't know what I want anymore.
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9. |
No Way Out
06:08
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Somebody paint that boy a picture.
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10. |
Happy, Now?
03:37
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My music was bad.
It made you feel sad.
Its simplistic style was all that it had.
But I soon arrived at a thought, self-described as noncircumventionally transcircumscribed.
Like a drastic designer, in one of my finer arrangements I switched all the majors and minors.
And just in one night, that removed all my plight, as all my song's wrongs were rewritten to right.
Are you happy now? Do I sound happy now? Are you happy how
I sound, now that I sound happy now?
No longer aware of all my despair, these chords and progressions felt lighter than air.
I floated through days in some sort of haze that bested the depressed kid of my young malaise.
But if things sound great, why can’t they abate all your apathy or at least placate your hate?
And who’s still inviting our nasty-ass fighting? These tones don’t look warm in this ghastly gaslighting.
Are you happy now? Do I sound happy now? Are you happy how
I sound, now that I sound happy now?
If I could never be just like you wanted me to be... well, I could leverage a spike in aural chemistry.
Are you happy now?
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11. |
Come On, Austinaut
04:47
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Come on, Austinaut, you really should have seen this coming. It never matters just how many guys are in the running.
Come on, Austinaut, you really should have thought this over. Stop combing through the grass for every four-leaf clover.
Come on, Austinaut, don't try to overcome the distance. How long until you learn to take the path of least resistance?
Come on, Austinaut, I don't care if her tits are perfect; just let them go, you'll find some more, it isn't worth it.
Come on, Austinaut, I don't care how good the sex is. Do you not find it strange that she's been sleeping at her ex's?
Come on, Austinaut, are you as stupid as it seems? You keep falling for that game of misconceived extremes.
Come on, Austinaut, you really ought to be ashamed.
Come on, Austinaut, you've only got yourself to blame.
This one's your fault.
Come on, Austinaut, why would you ever trust? You let yourself once again be overcome by lust.
Come on, Austinaut, I don't care if you are lonely; it'll worsen when you find out she's not your one and only.
Come on, Austinaut, establish boundaries! I know you worship her but get off of your hands and knees.
Come on, Austinaut, why aren't you more mature? The worst part is: you really thought you were.
Come on, Austinaut, how many times has this occurred? You've got to stop taking people at their word.
Come on, Austinaut, self-pity only gets you so far.
Come on, Austinaut, you really ought to be ashamed.
Come on, Austinaut, you've only got yourself to blame for this.
This one's your fault.
Come on, Austinaut, I hope you've learned your lesson, because you've got nowhere else to make your mess in.
Come on, Austinaut, seal off that heart. Don't give anyone else a place to start.
Come on, Austinaut, you'll die alone but die for certain. You'll stay safe as long as you never let the hurt in.
Come on, Austinaut, I mean you barely know her. There's probably nothing in this world left for you to show her.
Come on, Austinaut, there's plenty more musicians. Don't be a slave to arcane brain superstitions.
Come on, Austinaut, it just wasn't fated. You know as well as I do that you never would have dated.
This one's your fault.
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12. |
The City
04:29
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I fell
asleep in the city
almost accidentally.
It only stung a bit because it's where I managed to wake up.
It was far too quiet for me to feel fine - I didn't have an illness but I started coughing, only to break the stillness.
Swallowing crowds backwards, muffling sounds of band's words outside their venues, because I'm tired of putting strangers on pedestals (and the drummer is the only one I end up dancing to).
It's summer; now I feel antsy, too.
When I try to think clearly, all the nouns have rotted, and only action remains.
I thought I took the last bus home, but there were two more, and my transfer was still good.
My car gets twenty miles to the gallon but I don't need to fill it more than once a month.
I have seen a billion buildings built in the wrong spaces.
There are families (I've seen families!) with collaborative faces.
Birds might die without a reason, and we blame the windows, just because we can see them.
Before these placebos, I used to take vitamins, but I never noticed a difference in my health.
I am still here. I don't know if I belong here, but here I am. I'm not supposed to be here, but I don't know where to go.
When I try to think clearly, all the nouns have rotted, and only action remains.
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