1. |
Decompose
03:27
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The sun is looming large.
It's burning hot and bright and fierce as an attack.
The light, it hurts my eyes,
'Cause I have not set foot outside in many nights.
I take solace in the darkness I created.
I am turning into something I once hated.
But don't we all?
We decompose.
We all get old.
We all will die.
We decompose.
We all get old.
We all will die.
The air has gotten stale.
The blinds are closed; the windows have been painted shut.
The dust catches in my throat.
It makes me choke and cough and spit and so much more.
I take solace in the darkness I created.
I am turning into something I once hated.
But don't we all?
We decompose.
We all get old.
We all will die.
We decompose.
We all get old.
We all will die.
We decompose.
We all get old.
We all will die.
We decompose.
We all get old.
We all will die.
[Bass slide into a wicked synth line]
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2. |
The Way Back Up
01:26
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Time is marching on,
And what I've learned is that I've done everything wrong.
Time is not your friend.
It breaks you down and pushes you hard toward the end.
I'm still here and I've not forgotten,
All the right things you've done despite all the wrong ones.
I want you to know I'm the way back up now.
I want you to know I'm the way back up now.
I lost a couple years, but what does it matter,
When I'm still surviving here and I think I could get better?
I want you to know I'm the way back up now.
I want you to know I'm the way back up now.
Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh
I want you to know I'm the way back up now.
I want you to know I'm the way back up now.
[And then plays the one-string guitar line...]
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3. |
Words Fail When...
02:34
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Find the autumn in your eyes,
The picture-perfect sky,
The rise and the decline,
The rise and the decline.
The shuffling of papers and such anxious sounds,
The scowl on your face as you're writing it down,
The fingertips scraping against brick and stone,
The shadows that follow will find their way home.
Words fail with all of the talk around town.
They're just making noise.
The meters expire as we're making our rounds.
There's always a green one for me.
A sigh to documenting time,
The thought of asking why,
The rise and the decline,
The rise and the decline.
The shuffling of papers and such anxious sounds,
The scowl on your face as you're writing it down,
The fingertips scraping against brick and stone,
The shadows that follow will find their way home.
Words fail with all of the talk around town.
They're just making noise.
The meters expire as we're making our rounds.
There's always a green one for me.
The shadows of the trees are drawing lines upon the street,
That we can use to draw a map to document the setting sun.
The spaces in between are filled with warmth for you and me,
So we can sit here on the curb. We can witness this whole thing.
And we'll smile.
And we'll smile.
And we'll smile.
And we'll smi-
le.
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4. |
Summer Nights
00:59
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Again!
AGAIN!
Let's all...
Let's all sing another song.
Let's stretch these summer nights out extra long.
Let's set fire to a building we don't like,
And watch the glow, enjoy the orange light,
'Cause we all are gonna die someday alone.
'Cause we all are gonna die someday alone.
[COUGH! COUGH!]
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5. |
||||
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I've never felt so cold and empty.
Is there anyone inside?
Now I sit like this for hours,
Counting every breath I take.
Am I okay? Am I okay?
Now the clock is counting slowly,
In the corner of my room,
And I haven't cleaned in so long,
There's dust on everything I own.
Am I okay? Am I okay?
Am I okay? Am I okay?
Sitting alone with my heart filled with blood,
And two lungs filled with air,
And a gut filled with bad mistakes.
Now I'm getting paranoid.
My body is killing me.
I want to get out of the corpse that's surrounding me.
I walk to the drugstore,
And I take my meds,
And I go to the hospital when that's not enough.
Remember just last year,
They chopped up my kidney,
And stitched me together, a partial nephrectomy.
I want to go back where I was a few years ago.
We got in my car and drove out to Ohio.
I want to go back to when I could be happy.
Was I ever happy?
Was I ever happy?
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A Sunken Ship Irony Minneapolis, Minnesota
Like an old ghost ship rising from cursed waters, A Sunken Ship Irony emerges once again. We are soaked, old, and bruised, but we're still alive (if you could call this living).
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