1. |
Whiplash, January 2018
01:15
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I’m on my back, but I can’t relax.
Wake up every night with a —
Crying on the phone.
They say, “Make tea.” I don’t.
Up four times a night with a pain I can’t describe.
All the words I learned are lost.
They say do me, they’re wrong.
Well, no work, hurt neck, no friends, hurt heart.
What a start to a year I’m just getting to know.
What a start, when I sit four times a day with Rosenstock’s latest.
All the words I learned are lost, but his’ll do fine for now.
Well, no work, hurt neck, no friends, burnt heart.
What a start.
What a start.
What a —
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2. |
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Start moving slowly.
Across the house,
’cross the house,
’cross the house,
I’ve got this.
I was under the impression
that we’d be fine,
we’d be fine,
we’d be fine —
no matter.
Don’t trip. Fall. Call. Stall.
Don’t trip. Fall. Call. Stall.
Start talking openly.
I chat all the time,
all the time,
all the time,
with strangers.
Why is everyone so happy?
We’re all alone,
all alone,
all alone
in our heads.
Don’t trip. Fall. Call. Stall.
Don’t trip. Fall. Call.
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3. |
Social Media Cleanse
01:03
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Stalled and shaking on the side of the road,
my finger frozen on my phone, a blurry picture
beaming you right through both of my eyes
to my bundle of nerves squeezing my skeleton.
Closed the app, saw the sun slip away
Into a purple sky that gave way to gray.
I don’t recall driving home that night
But made it home alright.
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4. |
Redeeming Quality
01:16
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Think I’m funny, am I funny enough?
If I do standup would anybody come?
Would they throw rotten fruit if I bombed?
(Every night? All the time?)
Fear of failure, fear of getting it right.
How do I protect myself but still stay light?
I’m on a roll, but the
“I Can’t Believe It’s Not Better” kind.
That’s funny, right?
Like “Butter” kind.
A funny guy…
I think I’m funny, am I funny enough?
I think I’m funny, am I funny enough?
I think I’m funny, am I funny enough?
Funny enough?
Funny?
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5. |
Catharsis
01:30
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[instrumental]
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6. |
Introspection
01:28
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Enough with all the incessant thoughts
of getting better at making art.
And what have I done with myself?
The weekend’s over, now I’m someone else.
Watch me watch myself do nothing.
Lazy, unproductive.
I’ve gotta start something new —
always something to say, always something to prove.
But words come like quarters found in sofa cushions.
I dig so hard, my hands cut to ribbons.
Watch me watch myself do nothing.
Lazy, unproductive.
Watch me watch myself do nothing.
Lazy.
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7. |
Breakthrough
01:30
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Productivity is overrated.
A sense of urgency, inflated ego
wishing to be seen.
The numbers help my self-esteem.
I wrote this verse in traffic,
driving home after my night shift.
Open from the laughter
used to cover insecurities
so perfectly undiscovered.
Partially used notebooks
filled with lists of shit
I said I’d do.
My friend had had it,
threw his textbook on the fire…
Well, maybe I can burn all these desires?
The man I wish I’d grown into
is ever shifting, sides are splitting
open from the laughter
used to cover insecurities
so perfectly undiscovered.
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8. |
It Takes A Village
01:08
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Turns out some of my friends are libertarians.
I wish I’d known before, but I forgive them —
we all make mistakes.
I was a heathen before I made the grade.
I don’t want to invest in Bitcoin.
I need a government that gives a shit about its citizens.
We can’t do it alone, my friends.
Me and all of my friends preferred Radiohead
to talking about our feelings.
We were drinking until we were speaking
but not listening to ourselves.
Friends don’t let friends drive drunk or be libertarian.
I need a government that gives a shit about its citizens.
We can’t do it alone, my friends.
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9. |
Self-flagellation
01:12
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I made myself sick again,
I smoked ten cigarettes
and threw up in the garbage all night.
It’s funny how this is when
I feel the most comfortable
that I’ve been in a long, long time.
My lungs on fire.
A slow burn of happiness and desire.
I saw my therapist.
I said, “Why does this keep happening?
Why is it happening?”
She said, “Wait a minute,
Why are you letting it?
Why do you let them in?
Why keep letting them in?”
My lungs on fire.
A slow burn of happiness and desire.
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10. |
Ouroboros
01:54
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I almost drowned at a slumber party at my best friend’s house.
I’d taken swimming lessons all summer, made mama proud.
Didn’t know where I was, so I just dove right in.
I flapped around like a bird that’s caught in netting.
You would’ve thought that I’d learned my lesson:
protect myself from my best intentions.
Never let my guard down, and if I’m
swallowing water, then admit that I’m drowning.
You would’ve thought that I’d learned my lesson,
that fools rush in with the best of intentions.
Never let yourself get caught up
in someone else’s unresolved drama.
I almost drowned at a slumber party at my best friend’s house.
It killed the mood for an hour or two til I called my mom
to come pick me up and tell me that, “It’s alright,
you know that you can swim just fine if you take your time.”
You would’ve thought that I’d learned my lesson:
Protect myself from my best intentions.
Never let my guard down, and if I’m
swallowing water, then admit that I’m drowning.
You would’ve thought that I’d learned my lesson:
Fools rush in with the best of intentions.
Never let yourself get caught up
in someone else’s unresolved drama.
Unresolved drama.
Unresolved drama.
Unresolved drama.
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Justin de la Cruz Atlanta, Georgia
Librarian. Musician. Human.
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