1. |
part 1
03:55
|
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2. |
apathy
06:10
|
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|
since those clouds
filled me with doubt
I'm a person with a fear
that I'll bleed out
I don't feel a thing anymore
homegrown apathy
I was something
and something was inside of me
sweet kiss
tastes like cigarettes
dirty trick I played
and I fell for it
homegrown apathy
lost my marbles
dropped them on the ground
scattered pieces
lost and never found
something quiet
I couldn't hear it
homegrown apathy
now I'm cut off
lying to myself
I could go on
feeling nothing else
couldn't hear it
I can hear it now
it's ringing in my ears
I don't do it for me
I don't give it fully
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3. |
sandcastles
01:50
|
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|
I sometimes wonder
why every song
ends with me screaming
a change will come along
but not
today
I'm building sandcastles
I'm waiting for my time to come
before the wave comes
and washes them all along
little puddles
where cities used to be
like my own life
to be swallowed by the sea
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4. |
b-side
00:32
|
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5. |
harry's song 2
03:34
|
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6. |
bad art
02:12
|
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|
how old were you
when you lost control
see right through
to a melting soul
making bad art
to prove anything
keep it personal
has a selfish ring
don't see the edges
see the visions
in the deep blue pool
they look down at you
blurry image in the mirror
making something new
don't see the edges
see the visions
hear the voice
like an engine
let it take us somewhere
|
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7. |
crumbling
04:32
|
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|
crawling out
so utterly
independent
run around
so loudly
self assertive
taller than the trees
so vaguely
unimpressed
your kind auspices
I'd follow you
anywhere
crumbling down
I saw you yesterday
I thought I'd missed you
did a double take
my eye had caught you
covered in ashy haze
soft and and undetermined
then you peeled away
fell back to the crowd
crumbling down
when a storm breaks
out and pulls the trees
no ones around to
hear anything
like your broken heart
so it seems
crumbled down
fell to your knees
|
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8. |
the curtains caught fire
03:53
|
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|
a dirty standoff in the outskirts of town; one seen many many times before. A boy with a lump in his throat stares death into his father's eyes. The scene is quiet, almost serene. Only the sounds of cars on the distant motorway phase in and out of perception, but the air is hot. Words are exchanged. Words about God, family, and trust. But, when all is said and done, he leaves his father, and all those things he held dear, in his wake.
I've got a vision
I'm not inclined to show
I'd attest but I'm not so
sure it's worth it now
had the feeling but
I didn't really know
in my place I was never
going to work it out
yellow curtain
I'm so certain
indecision breaks my back
and my vision
heads for collision
self induced heart attackl
shaggy carpet
off-white walls
maybe I'll look back one day
fall down get back up
plan to make my great escape
I'm alive but I am not living here
wasted days and pale blank walls
made it clear
made my mind
try to stop me now
I'll reiterate
work it out somehow
decision after decision
one more ultimatum
but now nothing stands in my way
I'm free to set the world ablaze
And so, he went on to be the most prolific arsonist man had ever seen. And when you heard his name, you heard fire.
|
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Nuns Don't Believe In God Boston, Massachusetts
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