1. |
At the Bottom
03:59
|
|||
|
Different words they won’t come out
I don’t play these songs for fun
I’m afraid that you’ll be gone every day that I wake up
It’s not the same as it was
Way before all of this
But you wanted something different and I taste it on your lips
Well I just want
To be the space that’s right beside you when your bed is cold and bare
And I just want
To build you up and settle for the worst when you’re not there
I feel the cold Chicago winter
As it makes my skin turn tough
I am wishing, I am taking, what I take is not enough
You are laying right beside me
You are peaceful, you are art
I am coming close to hanging by the strings of my guitar
Well I know you’re scared
Of the things we say and what we do to make you care
Pull my back
I am yours
Until I’ve forgotten what it’s like to a space that lives above an underscore
I am climbing, I am climbing to the top and then I fall
At the bottom you’ll be laughing with closed eyes and open palms
(I’ll keep my mouth shut if you want me too)
(I’ll keep my hands tied up behind my back)
(I won’t move around anymore)
(‘cause I’m afraid that the next will be our last)
|
||||
2. |
Kubrick
03:56
|
|||
|
It’s like dry-heaving and nothing’s coming up
It’s like a cancer eating up your bones
One minute, your whole world’s crashing down
And the next you’re wearing the same sad smile
That you make when everything is fine
That you fake when you know it’s not
I’ve been trying not to laugh at myself as much
It’s like living with you still in the world
Okay, yeah I guess I should admit that
I often wonder what it’d be like if you weren’t here
And the next thing that I know you’re smiling
Like you know that nothing is your fault
But I am crying in the bathroom instead of writing
You’re on my mind while you’re picking at your cuts
I often wonder if I’d be happy
I often wonder if I’d be sad
I often wonder if the guild would kill me
If I let you get your way this time
|
||||
3. |
Sidelines
05:02
|
|||
|
I haven’t been like this for a while
I’m fine
Everything is great
I’m alright
Filling my head with useless conversation
People I’ll never meet
At places I’ve never been
Oh the things we do when we’re alone
I am watching you swing from the sidelines and you’re striking out
I am watching you swing from the sidelines and you’re striking out
I’ve used these same four chords
50 some-odd times
To express how it feels
When I’m choking on “goodbye”
Oh the things we do when we’re alone
I am watching you swing from the sidelines and you’re striking out
I am watching you swing from the sidelines and you’re striking out
“If the roles were reversed I’m sure it’d be much worse
Than what you’re going through right now.”
I know this is not how it ends
I know this is not how it ends
She knows this is not how it ends
Somehow, for me
You are watching me swing from the sidelines and I’m striking out
She tells me she loves me and I keep on killing myself
Forget that I even exist
You’ll forget that I even exist
Oh the things we do when we’re alone
|
||||
4. |
9 A.M.
03:46
|
|||
|
I leaned up to kiss the stars inside your eyes
Close enough to catch before they died
Hold me closer like you’ve never held a body in your life
Say goodbye
Pull me in
If this is what you want then let me know
If this is what it is then I’ll go in peace
And I’ll separate
The seams
A sheath that’s worn too thin to let me in
A jagged dagger I’ve been dragging
Across my skin to show you how I bleed
How I can disappear, completely
|
||||
5. |
Upper Hand
04:01
|
|||
|
I won’t stand for you in this
The past six years that I’ve spent
Afraid to leave my bed, running circles in my head
I’m not successful in anything
My endeavors will be futile so long as your force is sharp and quick
But I know, I’ve seen this all before
Don’t mistake complacency for progress
It’s been a while and you haven’t changed a bit
But these words that are more than
The things I cannot fix
And I’m sorry that I left you
I guess I’m still a piece of shit
You have the the upper hand again
In a battle I’ll never win
It’s a power that’s so pure
When I’m so easy to use
But I’m quick to say it happened under the threat of what you’ll do
We all have black eyes
But I can see
The picture that you’ve taken of a person that is not me
I need a vice
Or a pill that could help me get through the nights
Over the eggshells that I’ll walk on my whole life
Planning out my next move
It’s not right
To wear your pride on your sleeve
In the shape of my bad dreams
|
||||
6. |
Hartford Ct.
02:57
|
|||
|
I’m going down to “Pick me Up”
To pick myself back up
And start again
You’re in someone else’s bed
You forgot about all that
Didn’t you
All I did was try to be a better man
Picking us up when we’d fall out
When would I know that nothing’s ever good enough
You took the words right out of my mouth
I want to move away
Out to Olympia
Or somewhere I won’t see
The life I’ve created here
You made it very clear
This is not my home
The that you say words in my head
Loving someone else in my bed
Still rings out like the times you said
“Go home, you have no home here”
I went down to “Pick me Up”
The night that we broke up
Tried to find myself
And all the pieces of my heart
I left in Schiller Park
Where I still feel dead
|
||||
7. |
|
|||
8. |
|
|||
9. |
|
|||
If you like Compathy, you may also like:
Well Soon
by Walter Mitty and his Makeshift Orchestra
Summer sounds from San Luis Obispo just waiting for a backyard BBQ, mason jar cocktails, and fairy lights.
go to album
Introspective, homespun folk tunes from John Donne that feel informed by the sugary bleakness of '80s and '90s indie pop.
go to album
Once Upon A Time In Montréal
by Murray A. Lightburn
The folk artist explores grief through these smooth and soulful tracks.
go to album
Hell on Church Street
by punchbrothers
A re-envisioning of Tony Rice's classic album "Church Street Blues" from Brooklyn progressive bluegrass quartet Punch Brothers.
go to album
The St Buryan Sessions
by Sarah McQuaid
Recorded live at St Buryan Church, the latest from Sarah McQuaid is a showcase for the simple power of voice & guitar.
go to album
Anthemic and hook-laden folk-rock from Grace Petries is full of both good humor and wryly poetic observations on life and love.
go to album
A Mutable Feast or: The Ghost of a Flea
by John Donne
Lovely folk-based music with soft corners and dreamlike melodies, full of fairy-tale-like enchantment.
go to album
