1. |
Opening Number
01:56
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Better start writing down all the songs that we know by heart before we forget them, before we forget them.
I see you every time you choke 'cause I know you’re the GOAT.
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2. |
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Are role models really what we need? Is humiliation really for the weak? Do we need leaders? Do we need gods? We just want to fit in so just kill us all.
Giving up our true beliefs, reminiscent of adolescent tragedies. We do what it takes to feel alright. And the overwhelming sadness whispers that every interaction is pointless, but we still go out every night. And I don't know why 'cause I'm hanging by a fucking thread.
The uneasiness that’s inside me takes me to places where I don't really want to go. But I feel it’s my responsibility to express myself and ruin your good times.
So you better not leave me alone missing all of the life of the party. Where’s Whoostin to cheer me up when every lost opportunity feels like watching Gwen Stacy falling? 'Cause I know there's no coming back.
I see through you. You're scared too.
But you know nothing of what I've been going through, you condescend and spit on my every move 'cause you’re too scared to face the truth. You’re too scared to face it. And I’m so sick of all the years that we’ve wasted.
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3. |
How Weak I Can Be
01:41
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Now you’re gone. You’re off to see the world. I hope this doesn’t mean I’ll lose you. I guess that would hurt. And I get it, you need that clarity. I just hope you don’t lose your sensibility.
Let’s leave it in the smiles. Let’s leave it in the laughs.
You still listen to The Good Life and that makes me happy. Makes me forget about the time I thought you didn’t get me. But we both were misunderstood, so I thought I owed you one for the times you made me feel good about myself when there was no one. And I should have trusted you more, I should have trusted you more, when you asked me if I was ok. But I didn’t want you to see how weak I can be.
Let’s leave it in the smiles. Let’s leave it in the laughs.
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4. |
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Concepts are too hard to explain. I think I don’t have what it takes. But the images are all in my head. I hope you figure them out instead.
Do you understand the meaning of true loss and never feeling? She wants to start life with a clean slate. He’s hoping for the glass to break.
She knows it will never be ok. And he knows that friendship is a suffering state.
She wants to walk away and sever all the ties for all the lies she said. But it’s kind of hard to breathe when she’s taking it all one wrong step at a time.
Who am I to speak? Ego buried under my feet. The fuel I burn is not even mine. She’s the one that keeps me alive.
Living with these open wounds never made me feel so damn good.
These conversations are fake. Is this really what you want to say? How can you be so shallow while you’re drowning on the inside of your own mind?
Now I turn to you. You broke us apart. After fifteen years, you still feel so smart? “It’s easy to revisit, you should have lived it. You can’t put it all on irrationality.” Indecision or egoism? Sleep sound, irrationality.
So fuck the Saturday nights, the what’s ups/I’m fines, they’re all a lie. Fuck all the hypocrisies, the eyewinks and cyas on everyday basis.
So fuck the Saturday nights, the what’s ups/I’m fines, they’re all a lie. Fuck all the hypocrisies, the walls we hide behind on everyday basis.
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5. |
A Reaction Paper on Salt
04:06
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It takes a friend to die to feel something these days. Strong emotions are gone in this new digital age. Afraid of what is real, afraid of tasting skin, we’re always second guessing the moments that we’re in.
I’ll take the number 9 to the Roman Door. I’ll hang out in the back and lend you my earphones. And we’ll discover songs that’ll change our lives forever. You might not see it now, but we did get better. I’ll take the number 9 back home. Of what we think we won’t tell a soul.
I miss the people that stay to the end of the conversations and fight the urge to drift away, that sit through movies where nothing really happens but take in the beauty of the characters’ traits.
And I guess I’ll never figure it out but I’m fine with that now.
I see you every time you choke 'cause I know you’re the GOAT.
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6. |
Clichés of Love Stories
03:40
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I have never felt so good and so bad at the same time. I’ve never known how to live in my entire life. Do you always know what to do? Are you always so sure of yourself?
Your smile makes me feel like no one’s ever smiled before. Your eyes make me feel like I’m addicted and I’m always wanting more of a blink, of a smile, of a heartbeat worth a while, of your greens, of your sigh that hides the moment passing bye.
Will I ever get out of this quicksand? Will self-resent help me understand? These illusions are so consuming, clichés of love stories.
Depression is a lullaby. The words people say are all a lie. I’m coughing my lungs out while I play. Four weeks have gone, no progress has been made.
All is lost, none is forgotten, she must think I’m so pathetic. Coming to closure is my handicap. Coming to closure was my handicap.
So thanks for the wind that bites my cheeks, thanks for the puddles that wet my feet, thanks for the rain everywhere I stand, thanks for this pen that shakes in my hand and, most of all, thanks for this trip and for those days that made me so sick.
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7. |
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Tired of mistakes, tired of moving all over the place, tired of putting my life on hold, tired of having no control over bad days, sad faces, bad ideas and shitty races. I am the one ruining my life.
I don’t want to be here more than you do. But I want to fuck you over. And I’m not happy for your success and anything you claim to be a mess is my joyride. But the summer will arrive. When the summer comes, I’ll make things right. Yeah right.
Let go of every human feeling, embrace the hurt and continue bleeding, it’s never easy, it’s never easy anyway to get out of bed these days when the last two months have been one long depressing sunset.
Everyday feels like a Sunday. I always feel like something’s missing. And I’m so tired of these comfort zones. I’ll try to find something else to believe in.
But the summer is something that I don’t believe in anymore. The summer is like friends letting you down.
The summer is like friends fucking you over and letting you down.
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8. |
The Chaser
05:48
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This empty room makes the dust accumulate. An open suitcase in the corner, more like an open casket. I see the face of the son I’ll never meet. Remember what it felt like to be reckless. Forgot what it meant to be carefree.
Give me back my lightheartedness. This premature loss of innocence is like taxes on my fines making me recede into the darkest parts of my life.
She cried alone over the kitchen sink. She still remembers the coffee burning, she couldn’t feel her limbs. You try to sleep it off, you try to cry it out. Some things just keep on hitting harder, the harder you try to block them out.
Take me back to lightheartedness. This disappointed cynic is someone I don’t know, a fading shadow of the person I miss the most.
I want superpowers to make the pain go away. But if I go back in time, I know I’ll do the same. I want them but they don’t really need me. I want them but they’re better off without me.
So we reminisce on memories that we barely made. The stories are simple, you wish there was more. Is this all artificial hate? Waiting in the cold for your friends at the subway station thinking about the moments when we spoke about the dreams slipped between the cracks, about the conversations that we never started, the connections we failed to grasp. The wooden bars soaked with spilled drinks always take me back to the peaceful nights, back to the lights.
I miss pure bliss. If you’re blissful, then you’re lucky. It’s hard to feel that again. If you’re blissful, then you’re lucky. Blissful means you’re lucky. Blissful means you’re lucky.
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9. |
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Lights go on when my eyes close. Screaming in my head never fades. I want to sleep but I can’t. I can’t figure out why I do the opposite of what I plan while I become guilt’s favorite mindfuck. I tell myself a different lie to get me through each day.
We act a part not sure we hate but would love to love without rules in the way. And I’m so through with dogmatic absolutes deterring real change.
Better start writing down all the songs that we know by heart before we forget them, before we forget them. You told me that in your hospital bed after reciting the poems that are still engraved in your heart after all these years. And I know that it’s hard to get out of your head, but I still need the weight of your solemn words in my life.
Better start writing down all the songs that we know by heart before we forget them, before we forget them.
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