Lyrics

Ribcage

exoskeleton

someone’s crawling out of a gutter somewhere, whispering, “come to me, i’m trying to find my peace,” and i’ve grown wings to reach every corner of the earth, but I can’t duplicate, replicate, make more copies of me. someone outside is hurt, someone outside wants in. someone inside is hurt, someone outside wants in. they’re attractive with their clothes on (disquiet within their eyes), don’t dare crack their exoskeletons. and they’re too scared of the sunrise (dislike the way it shines), don’t dare tear their city down. someone’s calling home from a cellphone somewhere, whispering, “get me please, i no longer live curiously,” and i’ve tied strings to all of my friends, but I can’t hold them all, they’re pulling all opposites, slip right through my fingers. would it kill me just to step outside? would it kill me just to walk on by? would it kill me just to disengage, just to rearrange, just for a while? just to kill our brains, just for a while? would it kill them…? i’ve been crawling out of a gutter somewhere, whispering, “talk to me, i’m trying to find my peace,” and i’ve held scars from all of your pretty little cutlery. open me. do you believe in bleeding? someone inside is hurt, someone inside wants out…

you help me fall asleep

stitching my street shoes back together again, it’s cold where the light don’t shine. pack your things and we’ll begin. you were always just a little bit shy, little more fire, little less cry when you made things up. i used it as a measuring stick, “are you telling me real shit?” you can’t seem to get enough. you make it out like you’re the whole key, truth, disease, begging me, “please,” will you just shut up? you live in a forest fire, you’re burning my high wire. it’s a universal crime scene when a kid dreams of a movie script like his life played out. we tell our children everything we think they need to hear, you’ve got such a bad mouth. the cycle can repeat itself, your offspring, frankly, are doomed before they even get out - you live like a flat tire. you can’t breathe, i can’t breathe, you whisper crazy things, your mouth is beckoning, you help me fall asleep. in a situation asking for grief, is it okay to believe i am no longer free? i’m a diplomatic figure for the most part, i don’t have your heart just to watch it bleed. under any other circumstances, i’d be taking my chances, but i don’t wanna plant poor seeds - my canopy is higher. i’ve grown tired of making concrete statements, i live in the basement, concrete is just my luck. you’ve been telling me too many things, and i’m frankly ashamed of the things that you love. i’ve been thinking more in abstracts, little less math, little more crash, theories that don’t add up - i think like a forest fire… don’t forget to ask your mother if it’s okay i am here, courtesy is necessary, even if we do not care. i can hide between the walls if that’s what you desire, dear, i’ll find my imagination, hidden there in desperation… help me fall asleep.

stay awake

stay awake with me just a little bit longer, i’ve been looking for someone to keep me sane. i lost my father, he’s still alive, but jesus christ, he’s changed. i’ve been needing a savior, a sisyphus to watch me, lest i break. i’ve been needing a sailor, to sail me cross a sea of drug-fueled haze. the night is setting in, think I’m about to sin. talk about what fortune has not bought me, a way to ease the pain. talk about the comfort you’ve not brought me, the rotting of my brain. talk about the distant constellations, my wild desire to fly. talk as though it’s no small consolation, talk about my fucking right to life... the night is wearing thin, it’s gonna do me in. rich man pays away his sorrow, poor man drowns it in his beer, i accept and do not borrow. i can’t last another year. stay alive with me just a little bit longer, it’ll be soon enough, you’ll see me break. i need my mother, i need a reason to take what i can’t take. the storm is setting in, it’s gonna do me in -

haha!

shift your weight against the aching night, wears you down, a river stone. tear the skin away, see bone. you’ve been giving in to insubstantial fright, you never know what happens next. it jails itself inside your chest. crack the light into the dark, wash away the ashen spark. whisper to your open palm, you’re wrong. it don’t matter if you miss my song. it don’t matter if the words are gone. all you do is laugh and it’s your fault. write a spiral, deep and tightly wound, write your way into a hole. claw your way to earth, un-whole. you’ve been showing your infamous prose around, break apart a word in two. mangling our hearts, that’s you. knock me over with a goddamn feather and - recollect the time that we went wrong, i can only know the end, dissipating like a melody, you had me, darling…

waiting for the sun

slept just enough so that the sugar on my lips tasted like sweat when I woke up and wet my mouth to keep my throat from cracking open. when my eyes shut the world was full of life, and now that I am older by a slight amount, i’ve woken and the room is void of voices. quiet as she sleeps, and you are waiting for the sun. if it’s dark when they depart, your fire does not burn. i’m staring into night sky buildings now, and hoping i can make out your reflection in the mass of missing mirrors marring my walls. i rise from restless slumber, you said going under felt like listening to mermaids as they walked along the lonely ocean floor… slip through my room, try not to make a sound - try not to live so loud - when the world changes and you hide between the lines, you miss the little things that slowly turn to bigger things, and life has passed you by…

bones of me

look ahead, i’m all you see, there’s not much but the bones of me, i’m struggling just to breathe in sometimes. there’s puppet strings inside of things, my chest is no exception, see me hold myself together, fall apart. to tell the truth, i must come clean, i don’t much like the bones of me, they’re growing frail and fragile so soon. it’s hard to speak when spoken to, my head is full and out of room, the elephant is blocking my view. some days, i cannot get these fragile bones out of my bed. all hail the great unbalanced boy, transfixed and still, a windup toy, don’t touch him, he may shatter and fall. he holds his arms right by his sides, his eyes are not for him to cry, he’s oh so very lonely, that’s all. you know i hate to destroy you, you know i hate to complain. you know i hate to upset you, you say you love me, and it perfumes the pain.

Cry About It

Morning/Monsters

Another day older; Another day young. 

I heard another voice on the other side of my constant breathing. I heard that it was your ghost come back just in time to haunt me. It’s just a rumor I heard, feel free to spread it like fire. I heard a whisper from across the way, impossibly loud. It lived inside my head for a couple of days, then it headed out. // It’s just a rumor I heard, feel free to spread it like waking in the morning, looking for a reason to be here. Crawling out of bed, pretending that the dead don’t belong here. Waking in the morning, looking for a reason to be here. Crawling out of bed like the monsters in my head don’t belong here. // I heard a distant drumming, I heard it coming, I heard you cry out. I heard that some guy across the world came up with another way out. I see so many people on the streets with smiling faces, pretending that the world is stopped and all we do is give it up.

Melt

My birth certificate has an expiration date. Policeman said to me I’m dead in three days. There ain’t two ways about it, no there ain’t no way around it, I’ll get the will written up when I’m dead. I’m chasing allegories round Edward Gorey’s grave. I wait for sleep to come, and dreaming now, there’s circles 'round my vision, just like shackles for the living, or more appropriately for those nearly dead. // Sweaty palms been starting to get me down. You take my hand and tell me no one can hurt me now. It’s kind of strange, your presence is heard, not felt. I’m made of ice, your grip, your touch, I melt. // I’m stuck in purgatory, my mind has lost control. He’s coming quickly now, I’m decomposing faster than Mozart. My death’s a goddamn work of art. I’ll see you when you’re chilling in hell. This was no accident. I don’t play with accidentals when I’m cheating God. The root, the fifth is all I need, he’s never been the sharpest in the toolbox. I fight dirty when I’m on top of the food chain, pass me a knife. (yeah, a steak knife. yeah, don’t worry, I’m just gonna take a couple bites)

Saturday

What did I say? I would never quite slip away. You were never one to listen anyway. Helped you pack your bags on Saturday. Wasting all our precious time away. Waiting for the sun to fall so you can skip the day, okay. And we are the same, but you're a little dark in these shining days. I am not a patriot but I'm unfazed, the sun is far too beautiful to rearrange. Cobblestones are trickling down my throat these days, watching all the streets where you could be today, okay. // And now the night's out, and now you're listening, and when the sky is falling you look so pretty. Lights out, and I am dreaming, and you're so beautiful, and you're not listening. // Well you are not the same, but I would never take your love another way. I'm a beacon of another tired day, and you're the reason that I even stay. I wake up, it's another Saturday. I forgot to listen anyway. I guess that I'll sit still at home and be okay. But if you stay, happiness is not a price to pay. Pieces of hearts in our memories but not today. Wake up, it's another Saturday. I meet your eyes and I am gonna be okay. No clouds in the sky for our parade. // And yeah the night's out, and yeah we're leaving, and when the sky is falling it looks so pretty. Lights out, and we are dreaming, and you're so beautiful, and you're not listening. //

Glue

Set me down, let my skin turn to paper and my bones to words. Set me free, let me re-become the song that I never wrote. // You were just a special ink I used. I was just the pen you happened to choose. We were just the means to an end, bookbinder’s glue. I promise I’ll write you. // Set me down, let my skin turn to paper and my bones to words. Let me breathe, let me tear apart the meaning of stitch you up. Set me down, test my will against the page, papyrus strong. I may break, see my mouth, all I say are fragile words. Lay me down next to my brothers side by side. Set us free, let us speak in tongues, we’ll run and hide. // You were just a special ink I used. I was just the pen you happened to choose. We were just the means to an end, cracked spines and glue. I promise I’ll write you. //

Dancing Children

We take rest like exercise, our favorite pastime, push the mind. It’s like an art form. We play cards like reading minds, I move the pieces like a god designing a new world. We lay down our weary sighs, this ain’t about peace of mind. // He says he wants to play like dancing children, trip the fall. Dancing children, beautiful game. Dancing children, after all, open the flower, easy the play. Dancing children, trip the fall. Dancing children, beautiful game. Dancing children, after all, this ain’t about who’s right, it’s about the amaze. // We take stress, say “one more time,” I want to break out the lines, eliminate the boring. I see wings in the checkered streets, and when the fragmented ideas meet, we go exploring. I take time to make my mind, you say I’m not thinking right. We take rest like exercise, our favorite pastime, push the mind. It’s like an art form. A little escape, a little degree of ecstasy, you’re telling me your fantasy is just to stay here forever. I don’t mind, if you’ve got the time. We’ll stay until we’re old and blind. We’ll still know how to play like -

Last Rites

This one’s a wasted love song, written on the backs of my eyelids. This one’s a wasted effort, writing love for those who can’t find it. This one’s a wasted love song, you never liked my singing anyway. Your veins are tributaries, rivers to an ocean I didn’t make. It’s in the past. We’re finishing at last. This one’s a wasted love song, I never know just what you think of me. My words are open-closers, the door is there, but the lock is all I see. It’s in the past. I’m tired of finishing last. We’re finishing at last.

5 Minutes of Battery Power Left

I don't listen to your words of comfort. I don't believe in having things to say. I'm not saying that you're wrong, just that I don't have time to write this song, so excuse me if I push or bend or break. We're throwing lifelines through the air, you're singing bout redemption, I don't care. I don't have time to even mention you forgot to fix your hair. // In the real world, we'll wait forever. In the real world, we'll stay forever. We're singing hey nah nah now, well if you don't start screaming, you'll break down. In the real world, we'll break forever. // I'm not looking for a final lockdown. I just don’t think you know how to explain. I'm not saying this feels wrong, just that I'm waking up by falling down, and if that's the way we die I think I understand why. You wait for nothing. // We’ll wait forever. In the real world, we’ll stay forever. We’re singing hey nah nah now, well if you don’t stop screaming, you’ll break down. // You say forever.

Confidential Transcendental

You know you're waiting for something to happen. You could make it but you're too afraid to try. So you play the same old shows and you hope someone will notice you. What you're telling to yourself are lies. I'm not known for taking my advice. I'm selfish, I'm unwanted, and I'm cruel. So when you say I should take a shot, you know I'm thinking "better not.” You never speak a single word of truth. There's only confidential transcendental nonsense in my head. You won't understand my master plan anyway. I'm unstoppable, don't flash the bull, you know that you can't win. All your complications just get in the way. And I'm standing in the wind that blows you over. I don't care, I've never worried about the rain. I'm so tired of all the same old things, I wish that I could grow some wings, but there's a lot that can't be wished away. There's only bad constrictions, failed addictions, concrete in my head. You won't understand my mild sarcasm anyway. I'm impossible, don't flash the bull, you know you just won't win. All this confidence will just get in the way. And traveling has never been a viable escape. The world is all around your washed-up head. The longer that you run the more it feels like nothing's real, and soon you'll be surrounded by the dead. The train at 10am will leave tomorrow. I wish that I could go, but here I’ll have to stay. I know you'll love me til my days are gone, but I don't think that's what I want, so tell me that you're leaving on the train. All I've got is this existential, non-material brain-dead intellect. You won't understand my wild abandon anyway. I'm reliable, but not the place where you should put your trust. Wake me up before I realize I'm okay. All I've got is this confidential transcendental nonsense in my head. You won't understand my master plan anyway. I'm a washed up soul, don't flash the bull, I don't think I would win. All these words are only going to get in the way.

The Machine

You know what I like, just waitin' til the time get ripe. You know what you said, best get real low 'fore you drop dead, and I can't shake this sickness while I'm running on the next to last mile, and you, you fight like a lion, just can't crack your miracle life. How did we fall down? // Tell me what does it take to kill the machine, when all that is left is the sound of the dream? It's a question, in fact, that I've wondered for years, the rush of the inquiry drowning out tears. Tell me what does it take, til you know what I mean? // You know just my style, take them down with just a smile. And you aren't sure what you need, just searching for a cure for greed. And all the while we're stranded on your rock, just waiting for this broken clock to strike 12. 10 again. Your laugh is lost amongst the wind. Take me out to sea, spitting knives, set me free. You're drowning me. Defy the trees, break the laws of gravity, put a bullet in the heart of the machine.

Dust

It was only a picture, it was only a picture at first. It was only a picture until you twisted up the words. It was only to remember your livid scripture at first. It was only a picture, until you pushed it to a curse. It was only, no, stranger danger, just another way to change her, hang your coat on the door. Your teeth are anger spitting at the shame of distance put between you and hurt. Now maybe, baby, listen to the slipspeak. All we’ve got to give is insanity hurled at daydreams, ladies, splashing, screaming, “This is not what I expected of dirt.” // All that you’ve got left to give, got to give it to her, give it to her. The giver’s not the gifted, just the gift itself. All that and you may never win, just to shield it from hurt, keep it from first. The giver’s not the gifted, just the gift itself. // You were only a liar, only a liar at first. You were only a lyre until your strings went and burst. Now you’re living a lie, sir, living and dying second-best. Waiting for mercy, crying at the rests. … “I am not a criminal but you could be the first.” If I slip, I’ll fall, don’t bother to pick me up. I like it just where I am, laying here in the dust.

The Evening

Are you looking at the husk of a painting, hoping that the color will somehow appear again? Canvas rearranging and changing, shifting to a pattern you want to see remembered? Are you looking for genies, wishing for some wishes to waste on existential nonsense? Are you hoping for reason, caught in the middle of a war of telling lies? Well, I wish you’d tell me if you’re looking for something. I’m trying to find a way to help you out, yeah, but you’re just too quick to let your heart slip, so I’ll let you figure it out. // And I’m stuck on the evening, wondering if the life you lead is drifting. Give me just a little bit – no, help me, I’ll wait for demons, wait for reasons to stay, but all I’m getting is your spare change. // Did you strike out on chances? Is your head not letting you back in to other times? Looking at our perfect romances, wanting and waiting and striking out again? Well, I’m not the best always. Just a little bit of a cold bite inside me, feel it when I open my eyes. Come on, try me. I’ll suspend all my disbelieving sentences to help you. I’m trying just a little harder than healthy’s defined as. Could you give me something to work with? What’s with the walls around you? Spend my whole life just trying to break through.