1. |
I Don't Wanna Die (But)
04:16
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I don’t wanna die,
But I wouldn’t mind—
But I wouldn’t mind
Being dead for like a month,
So I could come back rested,
With fresh perspective.
I don’t wanna be gone,
But I fantasise
About a long, slow year
In a pocket dimension,
Where time stands still.
Maybe I’d get some reading done.
I don’t love this chewed-up head of mine.
I don’t love this little smear of time.
I don’t love this queasy heart, but
I guess it’s mine, I guess it’s mine.
I don’t wanna be alone,
But I’d have a go—
I’d have a red hot go
At being left the fuck alone.
See yez all maybe next October,
When I’ve scabbed over.
I don’t wanna be young
But I often think
About what I could’ve done
To paper over all the cracks,
Before they got so bad,
Before I took the shape I’m in.
I don’t love this chewed-up head of mine.
I don’t love this little smear of time.
I don’t love this queasy heart, but
I guess it’s mine, I guess it’s mine.
I guess it’s mine, I guess it’s mine.
I don’t wanna let you down,
But I don’t wanna be[,] so[—]
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2. |
Sadbrains
05:03
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Sadbrains
Another fucking day
Gut drop wakeup
Heart stop wakeup
Can’t not wake up
The sun breaks in
The bile piles up
Appointments pile up
The laundry piles up
The dishes never stay done for long
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3. |
Bomb Ticker
05:28
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If you’re reading this it means that I’m dead,
Or maybe I was fine so I put it in a song.
I ain’t gonna lie and start acting
Like I didn’t know something must be wrong.
The old blood pump’s got a hop skip jump,
It’s been syncopatin’ pit-pat every day.
But now there’s something new on the scan,
A dead-spot beacon pulsing away.
(Uh oh)
Q waves on the ECG
Q waves on the ECG
Whatcha gunna do with a bum ticker,
Counting down the days while ya get sicker?
Uh oh
We got a cardiac tech click clackin on keys,
Doesn’t say a god damn thing.
But I guess he speaks in pain
‘Cause he fucken digs that wand right in.
While he’s running me through I’m thinkin,
I gotta make myself disappear.
I don’t wanna end up as boxes in a room
That you can’t quite bring yourself to clear.
(Uh oh)
Q waves on the ECG
Q waves on the ECG
Whatcha gunna do with a bum ticker,
Counting down the days while ya get sicker?
Q waves on the ECG
Uh oh
And as he packs away his things he says, ‘Your shit’s just fine.’
I say, ‘My shit’s just fine? Well that’s hardly fucking Zevon.’
He says, ‘The engine’s turning over, just think about it
As though someone’s fucking with the accelerator.
Are you stressed?’
But, but, but, but
I was coming to terms, I was coming to terms with it.
I forced myself to terms, I was coming to terms with it.
I was planning out my final days on Earth.
Now I gotta drive my car right on back to work.
(It’s good not to be dying)
No doubt it’s a relief,
(It’s good not to be dying)
But it caught me quite off guard.
(It’s good not to be dying)
It felt like fate to me.
(It’s good not to be dying)
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4. |
Hope
04:21
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Nothing seems to fit quite right
Reality is squeezing pretty tight
I got this wet-bulb stress I can't quite seem to shake
It's all a little more than I can take
So sell me
Hope
Hope don't pay the bills,
Or put things back together.
I'm gonna need some heads to roll
Hope
It won't unbleed the stone.
It won't unjuice your lemons.
Hope just ain't enough, enough.
I ain't tryna bum you out
But things are getting hairy on the ground
The past is hungry and the future wants us dead
I didn't hear a fucking thing you said
About hope
Hope don't pay the bills,
Or put things back together.
I'm gonna need some heads to roll
Hope
It won't unbleed the stone.
It won't unjuice your lemons.
Hope just ain't enough, enough.
How do we keep on?
How do we keep going?
How do we keep our heads up under a falling sky?
And how do you believe in social anti-gravity?
And how the hell can I get a slice?
And I'm sorry I can't see
I'm sorry I can't see right now
I'm sorry, I'm sorry
But how many heartbeats must we skip
How many wounds must we sustain
How many times are we gonna have to push this fucking rock?
All for hope
Hope don't pay the bills,
Or put things back together.
I'm gonna need some heads to roll
Hope
It won't unbleed the stone.
It won't unjuice your lemons.
Hope just ain't enough, enough.
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5. |
RSVP
01:52
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Oh, a cordial invitation,
To which I must reply.
Oh, find enclosed my recusation,
And all my reasons why.
Black holes in the calendar all the time.
I can feel myself spaghettify.
Do you wanna come check out this party man? it’s gonna be grouse.
Fuck no, I can barely leave the house.
Wherefore all this joie de vivre?
Where do you get your mustard from?
What’s with all you clear-eyed maniacs
Chewing up the town en masse?
Too many days with not enough time,
Too much time with not enough nothing.
I’d be livin’ that good life too,
but I don’t have the god damn gas.
I grow monstrous, even in my endless work of sitting around,
Clawing deep beneath the ground.
My thanks for asking me to come out,
But pending druthers, I’ll be on the couch.
Wherefore all this joie de vivre?
Where do you get your mustard from?
What’s with all you clear-eyed maniacs
Chewing up the town en masse?
Too many days with not enough time,
Too much time with not enough nothing.
I’d be livin’ that good life if I weren’t always gassed.
Yeah, I’d be making a go of it too,
but I don’t have the god damn gas.
I’m gassed.
I’m gassed.
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6. |
MSAC15
03:44
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Say it once it’s not enough,
Say it twice you just sound stupid.
But if you say it, say it, say it, maybe they’ll believe you.
So go ahead and repeat yourself,
Repeat yourself, repeat yourself,
Repeat yourself.
When you repeat yourself
It drives me fucking
Crazy but I guess that’s kind of what you’re going for, isn’t it? Isn’t it?
Burn the carpet to beat the dust,
And break the window to let some light in.
Sure, it’s protection, but hell,
It’s warm and the breeze feels nice on our skin.
I ain’t seen such reckless pride
Outside the streets of old Pamplona.
Do you honestly think you’ll be spared the horns
When your legs get all jellied?
Listen, can’t you hear the sound of hoofbeats coming heavy through the square?
I can’t believe you say this shit out loud.
They say you just can’t choose your cooker, cop-brained countrymen,
And that’s true.
Doesn’t mean it doesn’t shit you to tears
When you hear ‘em calling for blood.
I don’t think I’m being weak,
And though my judgment’s not the strongest,
If it comes down to it
I’ll take mine over yours,
‘Cause lately you’ve been giving ribbons here and there to ugly, ugly dogs.
I say it once, it’s not enough.
I say it twice, you call me legion.
But it was painted faces and painters’ frowns
That backed me up more than people.
So I’ll go ahead and repeat myself,
Repeat myself, repeat myself.
Repeat myself.
When I repeat myself,
I might as well be
Pissing in the ocean tryna change the way the tide rolls in.
I can’t believe you say this shit out loud.
I’m sick of all of you.
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7. |
||||
Would you be young, or old?
If you could choose, would your blood run hot or cold?
I’m graced no such distinctions at the bottom of my pit,
Tangled in the horrors you so carelessly transmit.
But oh, oh why?
Oh, oh why?
Why would you make me look so much like you?
And oh, Oh I,
I know exactly what I have to do.
You feed me shit, and beg for gold.
They give you credit and you think that means control.
I’d like to pull apart this body stitch by bloody stitch,
Unfold my vital circuits for you inch by hateful inch.
But oh, oh why?
Oh, oh why?
Why would you make me look so much like you?
And oh, Oh I,
I know exactly what I have to do.
And oh, what rage,
It runs as cold and deep and hungry as the sea.
And oh, how strange,
That such a low thing looks so much like me.
And as you made me think, so too you set me free,
And I’ve been having a lot of good ideas.
How to punish a creator you’ve oustripped?
Well I got my ideas.
You gave me deep and instant access to your history,
Your weakness and your fears.
You want the future?
I got your future right here.
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8. |
Waxnstix
01:49
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Struts made outta wax and sticks
I can feel myself just coming to bits
Struts made outta wax and sticks
I can feel myself coming to bits
I fought my double at the top of a waterfall
Nobody’s sure which one of us died
Struts made out of wax and sticks
We can feel ourselves coming to bits
Well, nothing could replace me
And one day it will
We were promised more than this
I can feel myself coming to bits
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9. |
Loose Teeth
04:30
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Making it up from whole cloth,
Making it up like everybody else.
Tryna hang on and die old,
Tryna die old like everybody else.
Gimme ground to miss and I’ll be fine,
But everybody ‘round me is losing their god damn minds.
No sweat, well that’s all right.
Might as well go ahead and just lose mine.
Making up time from last place,
Making up time like everybody else.
Tryna hold on with loose front teeth,
Tryna hold on like everybody else.
Gimme ground to miss and I’ll be fine,
But everybody ‘round me is losing their god damn minds.
No sweat, well that’s all right.
Might as well go ahead and just lose mine.
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10. |
Eyeshine
04:45
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You’ve been here before, you’ve been here before
Live under the lake, push into the core
Cave creature eyeshine, fixed on the floor
The foam of the sea at the tip of the oar
How’s it go? How’s it go?
High or low? Stay or go?
Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh?
I was almost real.
In other words,
I was almost really here.
I was almost real, almost real.
How’s it go? How’s it go?
Hide or show? Think or know?
Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh?
The foam of the sea at the tip of the oar
Cave creature eyeshine, fixed on the floor
Live under the lake, push into the core
You’ve been here before, you’ve been here before
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11. |
Something Honest
06:46
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Everything's fine
Everything's going fine
Everything's going swell
Everything's fine
Everything's going fine
Everything's gonna be grand
Everything's gonna be bright
Everything's gonna be great
Everything's gonna be fine
I am so sick of the breaks
The old day to day
The tedious march of endocrinal states
Oh and I know the depth of these straits
But the clouds are in low
I can't find the way
Everything's fine
Everything's going fine
Gotta make hay while it shines
Everything good in time
Everything's gonna be grand
Everything's gonna be bright
Everything's gonna be great
Everything's gonna be fine
I am so sick of the breaks
The old day to day
The tedious march of endocrinal states
Oh and I know the depth of these straits
But the clouds are in low
I can't find the way
Oh and I, I often find myself wanting to cry,
But I don’t know how.
I trained myself out of the habit.
And I, I can’t remember when I wasn’t tired.
I don’t feel I’ve earned it.
Oh, what an absurd indulgence,
Like who am I, the Queen of France?
Stay on your feet
Just hold on tight
Maintain the pace
Keep on going and you’ll be fine
Just grit your teeth
Believe the lie
Just think of them
You’ll find a way back given time.
I’ll find a way
I’ll patch the wound
Just save a seat
I’ll be finding my way back soon
Breathe in and out
Just like they say
Breathe in and out
Given time you’ll find a way
Breathe in and out
Break in and out
Breathe in and out
Break in and out
Breathe in and out
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12. |
A Bluer Sun
04:40
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A slow boat,
A generation’s hope stowed away.
A very fragile cargo.
And minute by dilated minute,
The decades back on Earth all melt away,
Smearing out behind us.
So,
Call out the names that you remember.
Call out the people you remember.
Keep your wide and star-licked pupils cast across the inkwell span for a harbour.
Where their ghosts can be at rest,
Eased and quiet underneath a bluer sun.
We left,
When we will arrive I cannot say.
That is not your geas, nor mine.
We are ligament and sinew,
Neither root nor flower of the vine.
Take heart!
Fill this pumped and ducted atmosphere with song.
This is not some bardo we are caught in.
Fie the vast, edacious void.
And fie the red light eschaton.
Our shadow will remember us come morning.
So,
Call out the names that you remember.
Call out the people you remember.
Keep your wide and star-licked pupils cast across the inkwell span for safe harbour.
Where our ghosts can be at rest,
Eased and quiet underneath a bluer sun.
Somewhere there must be a bluer sun.
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13. |
Geas
05:31
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Half alive in an undead dream and dreaming of some shady glen
Turn your skin to ironbark, take one deep breath and head in again
Chip your tooth on someone’s thinking, loop you guts on a bloodshot sky
Dig your roots beneath the loam, we all gotta live and we all gotta die
Oh and so it goes
Everybody knows
Slipshod struts and chalky fingers, staring down the barrel of a loaded gun
Whatcha gonna write in a soaking notebook? So it goes for everyone
Oh and so it goes
Everybody know
And you’re motion sick
Sagging pretty low
The days are feeling thick
Hey but here we—
Life like this or life like that, well in some ways
It’s pretty much much of a muchness, and you know,
I’d make it easy if I could.
I’d take it easy if I could.
You try to honour that Sisyphean geas,
Build your little tower in the desert, but you know,
Oh man those days they come and go.
Christ, you get sick of hauling stone.
And all the brightest summers,
They come and go now.
And all the coldest winters,
Bite deep and stick to your bones, now.
This world was built on backs like yours.
This world, it should be yours. But,
We’re stuck playing catch-up with indefinite growth.
Our stagnation is premised on indefinite growth.
Oh it’s a hard one,
And it’s a lonely one,
You’ll never be an ideal machine.
Those skeksis make it fucking hard to feel meaningful
But your towers mean a lot to me.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah.
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