1. |
Care
03:41
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losing feeling in my hands
all my limbs stuck in the sand
you think staying still feels nice
not when you're paralyzed
from the eyes down
fixed on the ground
trying to move but nothing seems profound
please take care of yourself
cause no one else will
please don't be so hard on yourself
you're the only thing you'll always have
try this ten more times you'll be alright
but i can't see there's an end in sight
i think it's worth a try
to mend up all my aching joints
when my wellbeing's got me at gunpoint
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2. |
Ceiling
03:40
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so you're off to new york city
it seems just to take some photos
one of you against graffiti
one of streets covered in snow
one of angry little people
running late so far down below
and even though they're late you can just tell
they know exactly where to go
and it burns your soul cause it's all you want
to know where you're going
it digs a hole time won't refill
stops streams of though from flowing
it cuts the skin and rubs citrus in
to see everyone doing their thing so naturally
while stuck staring at the ceiling
on the top floor
out the window wet with dew
all these folks around me are
looking for a better view
there's nothing here
what's wrong with you?
just a nagging reminder that nothing is finished and
there's still much left to do
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3. |
Rosetta Stone
03:08
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gotta find a way to keep you around
i'm stuck to the ground and nothing else moves me
it's like i'm fully colorblind
it's all black and white until you shed some light
this point of view's so inconvenient
i like that you can help me see it
turn the dimmer down
i think that i can get around
it's all laid out in front of my face
can you help me translate?
you're my rosetta stone
(you wrote the language i'm having trouble speaking)
and i know these skills are something i should hone
(i'm locked up and can't seem to find the key)
but everything i see
(crawls back unfamiliarly)
becomes foreign to me
(i just can't recognize anything)
this point of view's so parasitic
i keep trying to snuff the critic
but their voice keeps growing loud and surrounding me
i need to find something to clear me head
to stop thinking it'd be best if i was dead
keep the dimmer down i'll find a way to get around
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4. |
Baggage Claim
03:09
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arrive or depart?
as i pull up i try to tell them apart
who else is leaving to find another
place to run away?
goodbyes and warm remarks
cut short by the rush to embark
it seems you're always called to leave
after you choose to stay
eight hours til a dreaded or hopeful start
eight days til a broken or mended heart
but time and date only matter until you're at the gate
new surroundings won't change your insides
always finding trouble when you're looking for joyrides
miles in the air but still staring at your shoes
cause taking off takes your baggage with you
you owe it to yourself to decompress
realize that pain is part of the process
enjoy the dream before you're woken
up by the alarm
sure you've got a place to rest
sure you've got a place to get undressed
but i don't think this escape did as much
good as it did you harm
eight days didn't clear your head
eight hours until you're back in bed
the escape is a temporary great that
sure has lost its charm
all the words we left unsaid
still keep collecting lint
inside our jacket pockets
trying to think of things to say i won't regret
but i'll still see them again
all my problems all my friends
can't seem to think of all the ways to write the end
i'll just repeat myself again
i think i need to drop the pen
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5. |
Matador
03:05
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i know i'm just a speck in your life
but you've left a deep, bold stain in mine
bleeding through the high thread count
more saturated than red wine
we've driven this track a thousand times before
i'm only programmed in one direction
can't tell what's around me anymore
following the red in front of me
i'm the bull and you're the matador
i always saw you as my pacecar but
i need to see this sans the metaphor
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6. |
We're Doing it Wrong
03:35
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feet failing flailing on the ground
falling over your own shoes
fast towards some comforting sound
or a logical excuse
you found yourself running around in circles
tripping over your own roots
hey now, what makes you think
you know what's best for you?
face planted firmly in the floor
flattened by the weight of your stress
hard-pressed for a brighter future
but having trouble seeing through this mess
you found yourself pulled apart at every end
by committments you can't choose
hey now, why are you playing
all the games you do?
we've gotta play it one way or the other
but you've gotta say when we're doing it wrong
if our voice is always drowned out
what's the point of even singing along?
you can't fix holes you dig without them
being dug up by your actions again
the asphalt filling the cracks in the sidewalk
is still uprooted in the end
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heartworms Pomona, California
heartworm - n. a relationship or friendship you can't get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is
still somehow alive and unfinished.
a band based in California and Barcelona comprised of Nina Anyayahan, Matt Sturgis, Nate Torres, Travis Wheeler, and friends.
... more
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