1. |
receipts
01:49
|
|||
|
open up your thank you note, your received read rinsed repeat receipt,
so meaningful to me
open up the binding, your split crease just won't cease to be
so meaningful to me
felled all cards, dispensed to make room
to see all the ink from your well slip from your veins
i couldn't read what you said but i'm sure it was nice, right?
|
||||
2. |
heads
02:59
|
|||
|
no one came out today
no one came to vouch for you, here of all places
heads were missing from the hall
can't believe they'll graduate knowing it's their fault
i'm forlorn for fair weather
'cause november's almost here
and i don't think you'll be there
i know the scalps are much too far
there's halves of boxes on campus waiting for your mark
i know that here is not your home
i'll gladly take you in
i'm forlorn for fair weather
'cause november's almost here
and i'm hoping you'll be there
|
||||
3. |
nw mass
03:35
|
|||
|
i see color reflect in my face on the floor
this is a ploy to feel swell but you are on in northwest mass.
and i breathe to stifle the lack of life i feel at noon
i'm pissed yet overjoyed for you, i'm bemused so i split the difference
why'd i take everything so seriously?
why'd i take everything out of context?
i hear the berkshires are sublime
take it all in, take your time until you've taken all of mine
i suck for i fear you silhouette is hunting me down
i spend all day making nice with your inbox
you spend all night making love with your eyes closed
|
||||
4. |
*
02:56
|
|||
|
alone at crown embracing the novelty of reclusive drinking
almost as if you meant for this, like you meant for everything else
so everything you drink's old style and everything you know is fine,
so what do you have to complain about now
i'm sulking to lucero, watching you come and go and come to your senses once again
oh before you were just eating till it hurts, that was just an hour ago but you want to hurt again
i feel like dying for i'm not well
i'm not feeling like myself, i feel like hell
roseanna and i are drunk now, slurring our words over debates of age
everything we drink is old style and everything puts me to sleep
and i want home, i want mom
fuck i'm sulking to lucero, watching you come and go and come out your shell once again
oh before you were just eating till it hurts, that was just an hour ago and i never want to hurt again
|
||||
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