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That Goddamn Pop Punk Song Everyone Loves So Much: We wrote ourselves out of this song/ Choosing lives that no one lives/ For long/ It’s a night spent pleading for seven minutes in heaven/ Lost drinking/ It won’t end until eleven a.m./ Pour a shot to all our “friends”/ We’ve burned our bridges/ But it was nice to do business with you/ Crucify every fake emotion/ It’s three days are up/ The broker’s saying/ Sell! Sell! Sell!/ We’re on collision courses with our own personal hells/ We never fall in love/ Swear to god it’s all we ever want/ But I am so see-through/ The blind could tell you I am so unfit/ I’ll be the first to admit what you want in a man/ Is nothing I am/ …But a shot to all our friends/ Let me tell you how this ends:/ You can take that fake-ass handshake and smile on your face/ To hell/ These are the things I thought I’d never tell/ Whether you love us or hate us/ It suits me just as well/ We broke ties with the anchor/ And let the tide take us out/ These are the songs no one cares about/ Like the voice in the back of your head/ That says you walk with the living/ But you’re already dead.
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Cheap Vodka And Cigarettes: I’ll bring the cheap vodka/ You bring the cigarettes/ We’ll take it all straight/ We’ll take it all now/ While it is ours to take/ Before we’re all tamed/ This song’s got a target audience/ She sits across the room/ Staring straight back at me/ “Oh, baby, baby, please…”/ And isn’t this so typical of me?/ Ain’t this so fucking typical?/ But it’s a lie we’ll both believe/ A novel with a played out theme/ A shitty MTV wet dream still looks the same behind the scenes/ We’ll find the beauty/ At the bottom of one of these drinks.
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3. |
Hopeful, Honest
04:42
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Hopeful, Honest: Filing brittle bits of parchment/ Late nights at your apartment/ Maggots feed on apple seeds/ I hope they bury you and me somewhere close/ And we’ll entangle/ And strangle/ But at least we grow together/ Suffocating potential/ But in some macabre way, beautiful/ When I hear you sigh/ In your sleep/ Barely able to breath/ The dust of ancient memory/ Collects with the cigarette ash/ In a bowl/ Have I known this all before?/ This is a sad attempt at a love song/ I promise I’m doing my best/ But this heart will be the death of me/ I’m all geared up for tragedy/ I’m hopeful/ But I’m honest/ And I won’t make empty promise/ I just know I can’t stand to go or watch you leave/ Or carry on without me/ Violins swell when I’m with you/ I wonder if you hear them, too/ Or if you balk at the suggestion/ Or don’t understand the question/ At all/ Have you heard this all before?
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Menus, Maps, And Almanacs: We bled the donors dry/ And left their bodies to rot pale and naked/ “Is nothing sacred?” you’ll ask me around nine tomorrow/ I’m conditioned to swallow sorrow/ To the point I enjoy it/ (Give me some noise kids)/ Let’s cheer on this contract catastrophe/ I am all you ever want to be/ J’aime/ J’regrette/ C’est la vie/ We’re better off tried and convicted/ For all the sins and crimes committed/ But there’s no judge or jury/ Just you and me/ Chalk it up to natural causes/ Close the case/ Cut your losses/ You know (you’ve always known)/ We were meant for this/ The company of an inconsequential kiss/ Is never quite as harmless as/ The jaded will predict/ But I guess I’ll see what fate’s got in store for me/ Is this all you’ll ever want from me?/ J’aime/ J’regrette/ C’est la vie/ Let it be.
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West Clark Records St Louis, Missouri
We're a little label started in a basement in St. Louis. Ran by musicians for musicians.
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