1. |
Endless Spiral Notebooks
02:42
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Quiet nights when I find out just what I’m afraid of—
The last we spoke it was ages ago in July.
All I have for some cold company are cicadas.
To quiet thoughts I’ll just turn to my old standby—yellow and lined.
To help me cope, I’ll just turn to my old standby—yellow and lined.
All I have are endless spiral notebooks.
My house is lonely; it’s the only one on Grimes
The pages there are the poorest simulacrum.
Do you remember the way we talked sometimes?
Quiet nights when I find out just what I’m afraid of—
The last we spoke it was ages ago in July.
And all I have for some cold company are cicadas.
To help me cope, I’ll just turn to my old standby—yellow and lined.
All I have are endless spiral notebooks.
My house is empty; there’s no one to hear me whine.
A silence ringing so that I can hear each pen stroke.
Do you remember the way we talked sometimes?
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2. |
Everything But...
02:23
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Another day, mind in the gutter.
I can’t wait until it ends.
My voice, it stutters while my heart flutters.
So much for having any friends.
There are no new emotions,
Just failures of great devotions.
I’ve known everything but...
My mother, I don’t think I love her.
I couldn’t say if she loves me.
I’m always feeling like the other.
Was I just born with no empathy?
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3. |
Lose You
01:40
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You’re devoted, but I’m so sure that I’ll lose you. I’ll lose you dear.
The dice feel loaded. The signs? They’ve boded I’ll lose you dead.
I’ll lose you. I’ll lose you. Please tell me I’ve misconstrued.
I’ll lose you. I’ll lose you. Please tell me the view’s askew that’s in my mind,
And you’re still mine.
You’re devoted, but I’m so sure that I’ll lose you. I’ll lose you dear.
The dice feel loaded. The signs? They’ve boded I’ll lose you dear.
I’ll lose you. I’ll lose you. Please tell me I’ve misconstrued.
I’ll lose you. I’ll lose you. Please tell me the view’s askew that’s in my mind.
I feel it all the time.
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4. |
Sandwich
00:12
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As soon as I finish this sandwich,
I’m going to regret getting high.
‘Cause even though it tasted really good,
I’m getting paranoid and want to die.
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5. |
A Clue
01:49
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She used to feel so well adored
But now he’s in and out her door.
And after all that they’ve been through,
She doesn’t know just what to do.
She don’t know what to do
After what they’ve been through.
She don’t know what to do.
She hasn’t got a clue.
She used to feel so well adored.
She doesn’t love him anymore.
But she feels trapped by what they’ve shared,
Even though it’s no longer there.
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6. |
Moonlight Flip
00:53
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N/a
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7. |
Pray for Death
02:36
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It’s empty like a peel,
This consciousness I feel.
Are my choices mine,
Or subject to sublime?
So though I kick and thresh in this prison of my flesh,
Would it be a waste of breath to pray for death?
Though I helpless glide,
Lapless as my guide
Shambling towards a fate
When I’ll dissipate.
There’s nothing in me that can change this trajectory.
I’m built just for pain; I’m destined for misery.
My electrons will spin. My atoms? They will collide.
There’s solace I take in knowing I’m not alive.
Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Ha'Olam
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8. |
Frantic Romantic
01:30
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9. |
The Radio
00:35
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They’re always talking about some song I don’t know.
I never listen to the radio.
That kind of content, no I don’t want it—break my antenna just for show.
You think I’m swooning over that crooning? You’ve got another think to go.
But aged singers who still make my eardrums glow
They’re always singing ‘bout the radio.
But how’s it differ, I should consider, from all those many years ago.
Where on the dial is something wild? Where did those frantic programs go?
They’re always talking about some song I don’t know.
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10. |
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N/a
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11. |
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She climbs up the stairs to where she sleeps in the attic.
She turns on the fan ‘cause she can’t sleep without static.
She lights the black candles in her gold candelabra—
They don’t give much light, yeah, but she loves the macabre.
A ringing, it wakes her at an untimely hour.
Hits snooze one more time and forgoes a day’s shower.
She works all day long, but she dreams of that mattress
Where she can come home and succumb to the blackness.
She love thunderstorms and comic books, pinball tables, inglenooks, but she doesn’t love me.
She loves diet cola, Halloween, cigarettes and nicotine, but she doesn’t love me.
No, she doesn’t love me. No, she doesn’t love me. No, she doesn’t love me. No, she doesn’t love me no more.
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12. |
Gin
00:32
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Don’t tell me about Gin ‘cause I don’t want to hear it.
Don’t pour me a tequila—I never go near it.
I don’t want your bourbon or your whiskey or your rye.
So pour me up a vodka, or get frigged buddy, eh?
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