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Don't look back on times when things were simpler, 'cause hindsight is a liar, and times are as hard as they ever were. Those problems were insurmountable ever though they're far away. But I have a habit of denying myself that I overcame.
A lot of my friends have drifted away and I just let them. And who's to say that they're not happier that way. Most of my friends are like "doubleswhiskeycokenoice" so I'll just drink until I forget them, 'cause maybe I never deserved their kindness and maybe they never felt like they belongs. They call me on the phone and say "I miss how things used to be" and I say "You're wrong!"
But we will overcome. We will overcome. We will overcome and feel like shit in the morning.
Once in a while I catch myself falling in love, but not often. And when that happens, oh god, I get so afraid. I'm amazing at denying the affection of strangers and I'm better when it's people I know. It's so much easier and safer being alone.
So I solemnly swear on the three things I care about: alcohol, cigarettes, and attention. That I'm trying, trying, trying to get better; I'm trying to understand. So scream it out loud, admit the worst parts of yourself, hold them close to your heart and then strangle them to death. We're only getting better if we kill ourselves a little each day.
But we will overcome. We will overcome. We will overcome and feel like shit in the morning.
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2. |
Connecticut Fireballs
03:19
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If I'm not hungover, then I'm still drinking, which isn't that exciting but what else is there to do? When you're boring and too depressed to sort it out. Well I guess I'm boring and too depressed to sort it out. And there's a bar around the corner, with crowds I can silently be a part of.
Get me out of this body. I'm not used to this I'm losing it. Never thought it was possible to feel this lonely. I'm not used to this I'm losing it.
I feel less alone when I'm unhappy. Because my friends and I are broken pieces of the same machine. There's a man behind the bar who feeds me drinks. We don't speak, but I like to think that he gets me.
Get me out of this body. I'm not used to this I'm losing it. Never thought it was possible to feel this lonely. I'm not used to this I'm losing it.
I've got a brand new room with a nice big window and a real nice view of everyone out without me.
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3. |
Where's My Premo Selfie?
03:04
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I'm finally old enough to start looking the way that I feel, and it's no surprise that I look like shit. I used to have big plans and the plans turned to hobbies; the hobbies turned to chores. I used to be passionate, now I'm just bored.
My expectations versus my realizations.
We keep on willing ourselves to die. Take another drink, maybe I'll see you on the other side. We got fucked up and did the dumb shit we weren't supposed to. But you're all intact and I'm in pieces.
How am I supposed to help anybody else when I can't even finish a fucking book? Too busy playing hide-and-seek with my anxiety and coming up with new excuses for everything.
So don't even bother trying to help, I don't think I wanna dig myself out.
We keep on willing ourselves to die. Take another drink, maybe I'll see you on the other side. We got fucked up and did the dumb shit we weren't supposed to. But you're all intact and I'm in pieces.
I'm not growing up fast enough; I'm not growing into somebody that I like.
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4. |
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It's Christmas in Boston, which is the second best season in Boston other than Fall. We're eating Chinese food, getting fucked up on Mai-Tais as the snow comes down. It's one of those nights, where snow quiets streets and you feel like laughing as loud as you can to fill up the city with some kind of sound to remind it that you're still there.
We are shouting at sidewalks.
The frozen stones of the darkened side streets take us behind landmarks of bad dates we had in high school walking around, wondering who'd hold whose hand first. I used to think my life would end up just like an episode of How I Met Your Mother and I would be Ted. Yeah, it's dumb but sometimes you just want To feel like you're in future looking back.
We are shouting at sidewalks.
We pass the closed clubs we used to see shows in. We pass the places who would serve underage. We pass the train stops we used to meet at. We pass the place I kissed you the first time. We're in the car and your taking me back home. I go back to school tomorrow. You do too. Our timing's as fucked up as I am off cheap rum. The city is empty and so are the two of us.
We're still here. Shouting at sidewalks.
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5. |
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You ask me who I am and I can answer honestly that I don't have a goddamn clue. Between making enough money, keeping myself from dying, trying to make my friends feel good and doing what makes me happy I'm so spent, the question loses meaning. I'm so spent, that I can't continue thinking.
We all want a little white room 100,000 miles from everything we need to do. We all want a little white room 100,000 miles away.
Maybe we could all get away for a while to a nice park bench in the sun. Think about the things that scare us the most. Think of how we swear we will right up until we don't. And how weird it is to contain all the people that we somehow used to be. It's a lot to consider. And like I said, we're all a little busy.
We all want a little white room 100,000 miles from everyone who bothers you. We all want a little white room 100,000 miles away.
I don't think I've got time for that. And I don't think you wanna go that route. 'Cause we might just discover we don't have that much in common, we're just terrified specks huddling for warmth.
Are you OK with that? I'm trying to be.
We all want a little white room 100,000 miles from everything we need to do. We all want a little white room 100,000 miles from, a 100,000,000 miles a million billion miles away.
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6. |
Jurassic Bark
01:34
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There was that summer where everyone fell out of love. We all went fucking crazy, smoked too much and Alex dropped out. He had to move back home and I ran out west to Chicago. I stayed in Graham's apartment, watching trains, and writing love songs. I slept on a blow up mattress dreaming I was somewhere else.
You can count my age in dead pets and temporary beds I've slept in. I'm regrets and lost to-do lists, built from things I'll never be.
That same summer we finally had to put my dog down. And we could all tell the dog we loved had disappeared. They said the meds she took made it quick and completely painless. That's when I realized I'd end up the same as her: Laying there alone and helpless not knowing where I was going.
You could fill a playlist with all the songs that I could never sing. My tone deaf voice and heart aren't good enough. The things you love will wear you down.
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7. |
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The jacket I bought at the Salvation Army Can't keep the cold out. The last fifteen bucks to my name Just went to a bus ticket back home. I'm sitting in the station Thinking about all the friends I don't talk to anymore. Ex-girlfriends are settling down with men they like. I think that's nice.
None of my shoes keep the rain out and all of my socks have holes have holes in them.
I guess I'm just a little bit tired these days. I'm looking for a nice place to rest my head. And finally get rid of these bags under my eyes. And finally get rid of these bags I'm living out of.
The circles under my eyes are maps of the late nights that we would spend sprawled on front lawns, drowning in liquor, pretending we were friends. My life is a pair of pants my beer gut won't allow me to buttoned up. Why are the only times you feel alive when you're actively trying to die?
We're cutting our hair and shaving our beards. We're getting jobs, staying in on weekend nights.
I guess I'm just a little bit tired these days. I'm looking for a nice place to rest my head. And finally get rid of these bags under my eyes. And finally get rid of these bags I'm living out of.
My bus comes, I grab my baggage, I get on board, is that a metaphor? I don't care. But I suppose everyone has their own Fung Wah bus full of shit heading to nowhere they're waiting to eventually ride away from me.
I guess I'm just a little bit tired these days. I'm looking for a nice place to rest my head. And finally get rid of these bags under my eyes. And finally get rid of these bags I'm living out of.
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8. |
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I've got not car, no job, and no girl. And worst of all is I can't grow a beard. 'Cause when you feel like a pile of shit, you can't help but feel the need to look like it.
And I wonder if I've done too many drugs, or was the damage always there? And for the rest of my life I'll be concerned with yours.
It will hurt less with time, and that of course will hurt too: the fact it's getting better, the fact that nothing's changed.
And I wonder if I've done too many drugs, or was the damage always there? And for the rest of my life I'll be concerned with yours.
Long Island has beaten us all, Long Island has beaten us all. I hope it sinks into the ocean and takes all of us miserable pricks with it.
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Tallboys New York, New York
We're Ryan and Bryan and Marc and sometimes Ricky and sometimes other people and we play songs to people in places and hope they have a good time
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