1. |
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A single pint one Thursday night resolving somewhat inevitably - a Prius middle seat subjected to this full and frank account of my internal organs' deep repressed feelings expressed as a Rorschach test of stomach fluids.
And it might be that we forgot, the stale stink of old food.
It might be that we forgot, sailing towards you.
It's true the old cliche, humour to push people away, cos you are either too polite or cowardly to tell that face that the meat hanging behind it is at best pineapple time, at worst a plague on anything of any real worth.
When was the last time you surprised yourself?
Pleasant or unpleasantly.
And wept until nothing was left.
Just a pile of wet clothes and sick.
We all had time to reflect,
We are not all that we could be.
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2. |
Best Laid Plans
04:18
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Do you hate seeing yourself in old photographs?
And being reminded that your weird forced grin and loud jumpers
Severely lacked the persuasive power that you'd hoped they'd had on us
Now I stay home
I'm tired of keeping up
The tears, the noise, the crashing of bin lids, to my mind
I stay home
I'm gathering them up
The pieces I leave everywhere I've been
They're all mine
Inevitably, within in a week or so I'm scared of missing out
Won't you let me in?
Terrified I'm old beyond my years
Chronically out of touch with this - the only group of friends I still manage to miss
No destiny of which to speak, you're meat that learned to cry
That you'll never feel, the way fresh veal does inside
You were lost and that was hard to take
If you call these your best laid plans
It kinda goes to show what kind of trouble we're in
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3. |
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The world's most needy, least troubled man is here to tell you why he feels sad.
It's his bootcuts jeans - they're irrelevant.
We stay the same age, as do our friends, it's just that there's more teenagers around the place.
Do the right thing Steve, take yourself outside.
So this is how it happens then, the steady slide from caring left to oh so realistic right
Thought I'd feel more mean, but I'm just too tired.
Admit to them you feel fine, I used to get sunburn from the spotlight, but now your whining is hogging it.
You tell me for the millionth time I've crossed some arbitrary moral line, surely you're making them up for me.
Fail the rest of your life, flush your hours down the toilet, it'll be just fine.
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4. |
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You were the disaffected air, I picked up one time to fit somewhere.
And it fit like that grey four panel hat I'm glad you talked me into throwing out.
But the attitude remained, it kept my troubles at a strict arms length
And now it's tiring going out and seeing people without.
Forgive me! I was scared!
Or other words to that effect.
The trouble is, a great disguise becomes the person that they recognise.
Now every social function feels like moving Morrissey with puppetry
But moping marionettes aside, business is doing just fine.
Aesthetically, drawn to the cold uncaring sea, in spite of sunny forecasts hope, for sadness, trouble, tears and woe. Keeping the good news for ourselves, our worries blown to billboard size, and flown from flagpoles ten miles high, this weird self pity festival...
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5. |
Party Boys
04:50
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You're hiding in the toilet scrolling through your phone for days.
You promised you'd show up but you're not really brought too much to say.
The more you pull away the harder they tug on your sleeve so putting in the hours now buys you a quiet month at least
Shaking at the thought of everything that came before
You've got to show you were there, you were there, you were there.
You hate being a disappointment so it's been pints the last 10 nights
And their faces when you go to leave kill you, so it's like "fine, fine, fine..."
So pleased with yourself when you get home - "I Saved Lives With Those Pints"
No wheel ungreased no silence unbroken, but now it's bye bye week bye bye.
How does it feel now that are you inside all curled up safe from the cold and all those selfish vampires
They've been draining and depleting your little stockpile you've built to shield you when the cold and winter run you low
How does it feel now that you are inside all curled up safe from their loud and often idiot ideas
Is your trail of thought deep, fulfilling and wide or just more of the same dumb garbage it was before?
The pitcher! The lager!
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6. |
Simple Things
03:42
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Simple days, where have you been?
Waiting for the tide to wash my forehead clean
In the right lane, but ruining everything
Waiting for a day that never comes
I fall for all the same lines every summer
Barbeques each night drinking lager like water
But now we're stuck here watching Netflix in grubby pants
And who am I to hang this concert poster on my wall?
We left two songs from the end
Our feet sore and our phones batteries flat
Words bleeding out like poison
Burst from an abscess
Moment you realise you're turned into a tired mess
Toupee receeding
A sandy coastline on my forehead
Tired with a capital T of chasing around worrying how you all feel
I've digested this nonsense so long
I can't marry the thirst with the forced non-chalance
Dull but obsessively clean
Found this striped woollen hat in a shop by the sea
Now even the thought of outside leaves me sweating for days
Why would anyone try?
That face is peering at me
From every corner
It's the same tired look the plughole gives the water
You think you're free here
But we both know how this ends
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7. |
The Old Man And The Sea
04:17
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We don't have much to talk about, we've barely spoken since school.
And now you've opened up your mouth and shit on everything that's good.
Spraying your dumb opinions like a cheap airport perfume.
You'd call a chip pan fire a friend if it'd only listen for a mere moment or two.
I'd sooner not speak my mind than regret everything.
Staying hard to read's an art
Like all the best defences are.
That was me one time
Sucking the poison from the teat
Obsessed but feeling overwhelmed and low
Strung out but taking more on hourly
Like it'd miss me when I'm gone
Oh my god! Rescue me! Because I stay up most nights, rolling newsfeed.
Screaming back, hopefully! Like I'd change a damn thing, just by typing.
A simple mistake, the old man and the sea.
Saving up your bad luck won't change one single thing.
Do I need to spell it out?
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8. |
Gathering Dust
02:28
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Cut me off your Christmas list, I'm tired of feeling dull and uninspired.
We meet up once a year and talk about the past, but that is not my style.
You sincerely offer a welcoming hand (You know how I feel about that)
We're cut from the same cloth, but you're a clean ironed shirt and I'm a mop for cleaning spilt brains.
And it's the same as you leave at the end of the night - as we part ways - "let's not leave it so long next time"
We're gathering dust
Same two seats by the window
Sitting toasting ourselves
It's the same as you leave at the end of the night as the beers kicking in and you're dreamy and tired - confusing relief for warm feelings I find they almost entire pass me by.
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9. |
Sad Songs
02:25
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You said you wanted to be someone but you can barely stay awake
Through some mandatory health and safety fire roleplay.
They're all sad songs till you meet someone to mount the pedestal you made
For the one that stole your DVDs and ran away.
When New Year's done I'm going to be someone
Clean clothes, regular flossing.
100% lager-free all January
They're all sad songs till you meet someone to mount the pedestal you made
For the one that stole your laserdisc of Independence Day
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Olympians London, UK
Hi. We're a band that lives in the South East of London. These are the songs that we have made.
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