1. |
90s Nostalgia
02:57
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It's those weird dreams where you get no rest and alternate realities play out in your head.
It's an enigmatic, paralyzing paradox - a conundrum then your time is up.
I see me and my bucktoothed grin. The 7 year old child that was squirming within
with my glasses pushed to the bridge of my nose, taking my imagination wherever I go.
Cuz I'm a mashed couch potato today
And every strand of hair is going every which way.
And I am clean but I feel dirty too
Spacing out and drifting off and wondering what I'd do to you
Overthinking til I overheat
Collapsing on my bed til I am sick of the scene
I find solace in dreams - but I oversleep
And wake up more exhausted then I started.
The atmosphere is in your voice. It's calling out to me like I had a choice.
I'll be your puppet, your friend, an enemy, a Romulan
Let me know I exist by word of mouth or a grin.
I'm just bored. I wanna feel
(To drink, to smoke, to touch, to love)
what's real, understand the meaning of everything to me
(you're everything to me)
But I'm a dodecagon - complicated and complex - can't take a compliment - or laugh at myself at others expense
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2. |
Much Ado About Something
02:33
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So sick of the sunshine when all I really want is the rain.
I'm dryin' up slowly. The heat really goes to my brain.
Now my petals are falling down and I
don't care for no one anymore.
Mr. Bee stole my honey and the people,
they sell it for money.
But I'm the first one to pluck when they're unsure about love.
He loves me, he loves me not.
Start out as a pebble but you'll see how much I grow.
Water comes pouring down.
I'm drinking the ground right by your window.
But you don't see me! I'm going through transition.
I rotate my head around, chase the sun, change my position.
The petals are the first to go cuz Mother Nature said so.
My roots clutch all around, 'til you pick me up -
You found me!
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3. |
A Pointless Circle
03:12
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I'm sick and tired of this. I do plenty enough.
So don't ask for my kiss. So fed up with your "love".
And you think what you're doing is right on target. But you're wrong.
Trying to fool me. I'm sorry, it's not working.
But I'll pretend it does so you think you're getting somewhere but in reality
you're just stuck, stuck, stuck, stuck.
I'm sick and tired of this. I do plenty enough.
So don't ask for my kiss. So fed up with your "love".
I'll just leave you alone and rebel in silence.
So silent, it'll turn you violent.
You don't know the answers to your own problems
and you have the nerve to chastise me,
but when I question your authority
I get bombarded with threats, threats, threats (no answers)
I'm sick and tired of this. I do plenty enough.
So don't ask for my kiss. So fed up with your "love".
I'll just leave you alone and rebel in silence.
So silent, it'll turn you violent.
So I guess I'll have to wait it out until later
And this supposed anger has made me into a hater.
Going on standby, taping my mouth shut, binding my wrists with rope, burning my eyes
because I'm so sick and tired
I'm sick and tired of this. I do plenty enough.
So don't ask for my kiss. So fed up with your "love".
I'll just leave you alone and rebel in silence.
So silent, it'll turn you violent.
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4. |
Maggie
04:52
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I think Maggie would be proud of the girl you've become thus far.
Next time you have doubts just look up and count the stars
and let your mind wander because this journey has been so hard.
Every year forms a callous and I try to lend a hand.
You're skin's getting thicker and you're doing the best that you can.
You live on your own but you're never alone.
You've got me to talk to and I always pick up my phone.
I have this poster in my room. It says 'Obama 08'.
Maggie gave that to me 'round the time of the campaign
A bleedin' liberal we loved and we'll never forget.
Imprinted on your mind like a handprint on cement.
How about the time we knocked your bookshelf down? The clamor it made.
I shook at the sound, thought the laugher would ring for days.
Maggie, she cursed and she screamed and she yelled.
But we closed our cryin' eyes and continued our hysterical spell.
We would play softball when we were just kids.
You always played shortstop and I played right field, I did.
Maggie made every game as she sat in the stands.
And with every homerun you made she stood up, clapping her hands.
We'd talk about the Beatles and we'd talk about the President.
I know she'd be so proud of your transformed independence.
Because a year go today the tables turned.
But you're alive and you're well. Life can only get better as far as I can tell.
You still laugh, you're makin' money, you pay your bills, and you're still funny.
And we'll drive around Jersey like nothing's changed
and we'll see Motion City every year if that's okay.
We'll drink whiskey on the PATH and sing so loud, people'll think we're strange.
Maggie's memories in your heart, her words in your brain.
You did the best you could. It was supposed to be this way.
Carry your sorrow like a stereo and let the pain wash away.
It'll all get better in time, the stain'll still remain.
Just remember, just remember - It'll all be okay.
Just remember September, it'll all be okay.
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5. |
Clean Slate
02:00
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Clean slate - erase my face, erase my name.
I am - I present to you - brand new.
Reset everything you are, too.
We can do it, we can make it.
If we build it, we can break it.
If you dream, you can believe.
Cast away apologies.
Here you are, what you are.
What is near, what is far.
Not intrinsic. You decide.
Quick, before our culture dies.
We need to turn off our radios.
And STOP becoming zombies in this world.
We strive to live to our life through our headphones.
To be a duplicate's to be an idiot. Why don't we face the great unknown?
We can do it, we can make it.
If we build it, we can break it.
If you dream, you can believe.
Cast away apologies.
Here you are, what you are.
What is near, what is far.
Not intrinsic. You decide.
Quick, before our culture dies.
(I am the information age.
I am the epitome of everything.
I am something that you can't touch.
I am the devil of your love)
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6. |
Unemployment Blues
04:50
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(I got the unemployment blues. Hey I’ve got the unemployment blues)
Yesterday was so awful.
I get natural hangovers now.
Starts with the bile in my throat,
sheets feel like a coffin,
and I cannot break out.
My nausea’s consumed by self-doubt.
The saline has trickled down to my mouth.
Pain shoots up my head
as the room starts to spin and I try not to vomit.
For all the emails I’ve sent,
I’m just looking for a “no”.
Please don’t leave me here hanging in indefinite limbo…
This just feels like a way
to a broken heart.
Where you’ve worked all your life to be so goddamn perfect,
yet so easy to discard.
Hey, I’ve got the unemployment blues.
Hey, I’ve got the unemployment blues.
And let me tell you it’s hard not to take it personal.
I’m sick of the audition. (I’d be so much easier)
to turn on and tune in and drop out.
The more days that go by
the thicker the callous forms.
I submerge into philosophical headspins like,
“What would happen if I wasn’t born?”
It’s the George Bailey-complex
that I am so deathly afraid.
So I read and I read and I try to just breathe
but the feeling never goes away.
And I’ve done all the right things.
I’ve tried so hard to be someone…
and look where it got me!
The longer that I’m in this for the less I want
anything to do with you at all!
(I’m human too, I’m human too, I’m human too, I’m human)
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