1. |
High Ceilings, Low Lives
02:45
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We're talking again about the kind of friend
That has an expiration date, I start thinking, 'Man,
I suffer from many of the same character flaws.
They set me apart. I get lost in my own thoughts."
I try not to be so sensitive, I try not to overreact.
Or read into these things, they happen all the time.
But when you've got a mind like mine, a vessel of self-defeat,
You wither out of the conversation.
I get lost in my own thoughts.
When did self-pity become appealing, and when did you start refusing to be happy?
I've got nothing to offer but the miles to go and the promise of being a better everything.
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2. |
Love Letter Long Island
03:40
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Sometimes I think I would be better off if I was born in the shadow of Manhattan. I identify with a quiet existence.
Raising myself on Leatherface in the 90's in my bedroom alone, making other people's basements into my home.
Growing up in a no-name town on the border of Nassau and Suffolk. You'd love to know what it's like to not be constantly stuck in traffic.
And I longed for those VFW halls, on all my favorite bands' best records. By the time I arrived the legions were gone, replaced by angry neighbors.
Sometimes I think I would be better off if I was born on Long Island.
I identify with a lifelong struggle to prove myself.
Growing up in a no-name town on the border of Nassau and Suffolk. Perpetual disappointment in these clouded mindsets. It's the same kind of romantic bullshit that you read about in colonial novels.
Looking to the East, the philosophical West, looks for an answer to all its' Troubles.
Despite the high cost of living, the concept of home is worth the bills and the headaches.
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3. |
Dangerous Idea
03:52
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Today is the day I realized I'm disgusted with most things. Most of all the way you hide behind free speech. I don't believe in your sincerity, and I don't believe a "victory" exists.
Is there such a thing as a dangerous idea, and will I ever know how to deal with someone who looks like me?
While you were writing novels about primal instincts, there's a girl crying somewhere on a bathroom floor. Afraid of everything, afraid of everyone she meets.
You don't feel like me, you don't love like me, you just look like me. I'm sick of the taste; I'm sick of everything.
If this is what it takes to be a man, then I guess I never was one and that's okay with me.
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Gifthorse Wilmington, Delaware
For the love of Petty.
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