1. |
April
02:37
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I know I’m pulling at your threads. You’re right. I swear, I can’t help it. I’m weak, and I need you to think you mean less to me than you do. But really, you’re everything. I can’t really explain why it’s my gut reaction to act so selfishly. I knew nothing about sacrifice until I spent that night in Cinci getting progressively shit-faced on Jack and Cokes and dreading the morning cause it meant—it meant I was visiting my father’s grave for the first time. At twenty-three, I know that’s pretty shitty of me. I think I called my mom. And when you don’t have any healthy role models to base your adult relationships on, you don’t know what happens to love. What happens when you start to grow apart? I never got to see those distant beaches. I’ve been growing up not in increments but in giant fucking monumental, life-changing, leaps and bounds. We’re only familiar with all of the snow on the ground now. What happened to April? We take a wild stab in dark, pull apart whatever it is we think the other person’s problems could be. What happened to us? What happened in between the months of August and December? You think I make this shit up? It’s been so dark in our bedroom, I wake up thinking that I’m still asleep; my eyes are open, but I can’t see a thing. Not once has one of us bent a tiny bit, an inch. Instead, we’re hard-headed and convinced that we’re right. It’s like we’re sitting in a fire, our house gone up in flames. When we talk, it’s only just to say: “How can we be such drastically different people? I mean, we used to be best friends and now we’re not.” What happens to love? What happens when you start to grow apart? I can’t remember what happened to us.
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2. |
Black Friday
03:42
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Suit up, they’re turning black, we’re burning so many problems away. We’re building better bombs, we’re building better bombs. We’ll catch the fever that will turn us into machines. There’s no tomorrow for, for you and me. This is so detrimental to my understanding. I’ve got flowers growing in my face, but black sex and bullet metal on my tv screen. Can you tell me what that is that you’re wearing? It’s so intoxicating, smells like mustard gas and roses. Can’t you hear them when they’re calling? Sounds like, “We’re all silent like a thousand corpses. Just you try to keep us off of your mind.” Here’s a brave new little soldier we’ve found. Congratulations! We’ll turn him in to a cynic just like how we did the same to you. We’ll build up our crosses bigger until we’re blessing everything we touch. Turn it all into dust. Can you pass another glass on this way? It’s so hard to feel lonely when we’re toasting to another day of everything being, and “We’re all silent like a thousand corpses. Just you try to keep us off of your mind” Go ahead, until everyone is dead. We’re all silent like a thousand corpses. We’re all violent like a silver screen.
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3. |
Brothers
03:29
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4. |
Arsmae
02:30
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5. |
Bury Me Alone
03:30
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