1. |
Writer's Block
02:43
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Started as a petty escape
Now it's a classic excuse to keep my heart beating
I don't know what for
God I had so much to prove
To fill my life up with "truth"
What a shitty reason to come up empty
Are you empty too?
Does what you used to love resonate a dead air inside of you?
Selfish interests took over
I built a monument to myself
But if it disappeared tomorrow
I'd just build it again
Or could it be benign
That maybe posturing as an artist
Will never help another life
Maybe all's not lost
If there's more to this power, well
I'll find out
If it carves out hope in a worthless place
Then I refuse to give up my selfish reason for being
Could this be a weapon?
Or a part of me?
I'll never know if I keep my head clear
Get up
Not what I can get out of it
But what it can do
And maybe a little less defined by it
But it could be good
Or I could be wrong
We'll never know until it's time
So I write, I write, I write
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2. |
It's Not Enough
03:34
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Here's a question to all the drunk kids,
What do you see?
Sixteen hundred and fifty thousand dollar houses
No way into this world that I can imagine
I feel like a slow boil's been put on each and every soul
And I didn't speak when it seared your skin
I was too afraid of saying the wrong words
It's not enough
To shrug it off
To be so sure that it'll be ok
And I have the best of my friends working for nothing
Vilified
So I get the call for comfort
But this is one of the few places that never lied to me
So sacred when I felt alone
I'm just saying it could be a little better.
I'll make a new space in my noise
For those you choose to ignore
It's not enough
To play for myself
To be so sure that it'll be ok
I'm not too sure
I see them wishing for death of those I love.
It's not enough
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3. |
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And I bit to the quick. Only solace in these sticks. Burn the stamp from my wrist. Cotton glued to these lips.
Hope nobody saved my seat. No not broke, I took the long way out. Yes I did. Who cares if I took my leave. I'm to busy holding up this wall. Yeah your lucky, y'all ain't rooted to they spot. They said to branch out.
Seven breaths in and seven breaths out and I ain't never calmed down.
Got through this twenty. Needles rip through me. All bark no bite. Vice on ash.
Mouth closes shut and my feet open up. You can count all these rings in the next twelve years. Doubled jointed stretch to the East not the West. Carcinogen chest never learned how to rest. Crowded wide alley ways, loiters use my shade. Damn right I know my place, got to call a spade a spade. No more weeping seeds. Come lover carve on me. It might not last forever, but I am ever green. Trim, chop, burrow, nest. Built a home.
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4. |
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...long time coming
This stint has reached...
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Struckout Long Beach, California
LP3 OUT JULY 20 VIA POSTMARK RECORDS
"QUEER SHIT" AVAILABLE
NOW
MUSIC VIDEO: www.youtube.com/watch?v=EcIlW2s6MJg
PRE-ORDER THE VINYL: www.struckoutmusic.com/lp3-vinyl
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