1. |
doorways
04:03
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i'm waiting out by the barn
call me in for dinner soon
it's getting kind of cold outside
i'm headed out in the morning
i'm leaving when it's dark
i'll leave the coffee on the table this time
and i'm always playing at the shadow on the walls
i'm always hanging around in doorways
and i said that i would not forget to call
but i am a liar, just like always
i've been thinking about driving
down to albany
showing up at your door
my face is a visage of confidence
pretending like i've been here before
i am standing on the threshhold
waiting to be let in
'cause i am coward when all is told
terrified of making assumptions
it's getting cold outside
and i am tired of waiting around for you
maybe you're tired of waiting around for me
and i'm sorry but that's just how it has to be
maybe i'll head back north...
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2. |
too much to ask for
05:56
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i've been sitting on this roof for a while
memorizing andromeda and orion
and i've wished on every meteor shower
but nothing seems to settle like i'm waiting for
i don't recognize my face anymore
maybe i've just looked at it too much
and when i close my eyes
i'll imagine the sky
and pretend to be everyone i'm not
i wanna be the one that comes home on the weekends
smelling like smoke and dust and firewood
i want to drink whiskey and coke at the bar down the road
and i want to be known, like a ghost, in the house you used to live in
i'm a shadow on the wall most of the time
knocking shit around, a quiet poltergeist
and i don't want to feel this
but don't know how to change my mind
i don't know how to tell you anything except that
nothing feels quite right
but i want to be like the horses as they run
forgetting that they're horses they just race to the sun
and the ground is under their feet, they're kicking up the stones
it's all that they know, it's all that they know, but they don't need to know
no they don't need to know
i wanna lean back by the fire
brush off the dust
let the light burn my eyes
until the afterimage is all that's left of us
i want to stop feeling
like i'm haunting my own home
unless that's too much to ask for
is it that too much to ask for?
is it too much to ask for? ...
'cause i wanna be the one that comes home on the weekends
smelling like smoke and dust and firewood
i want to drink whiskey and coke at the bar down the road
and i want to be known, like a ghost, in the house you used to live in
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3. |
rabbit
04:43
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shooting .22s in the yard
you said you got a rabbit, and you killed it
why you always gotta do shit like that?
you're playing at being hard
but kid i see right through it. some things once you do it
you can't take them back
because now, there's a rabbit
and it's bleeding out on the snow
from a small, strategic bullethole
and i can't tell if it's real
or just a guilty conscience kill
but what difference would it make
well there you are
pulling barbs out of your skin
i told you not to get backed into corners
but what difference does it make,
once the javelin is in?
i guess it just gets sorer
well there's a rabbit
it's still bleeding out on the snow
from that small strategic bullethole
and i can't tell if it's real
or another guilty conscience kill
but what difference could it make
so i'll wait around
i wait for me to come around
i'm losing ground
but i still wait for me to come around
why am i still here, just staring at the ceiling
it's been hell for a year. god i hate this feeling
'cause there's a rabbit
and it's rotting in the garden
and i know i killed it, at least a part of me did
and i don't know if it's real
or if it's my guilty conscience killing things
but what difference would that make?
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4. |
ghosts
03:19
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there are ghosts in this house
i should know because i am one
we're just walking around
moving papers spilling coffee cups
there are cold spots in the doorways
where i stand for to long
so i wait here in the hallways
for it all to go wrong
just like it always does
oh i'm waiting on the shoes to fall
there are skeletons in my closet
far too close for comfort
and i know it's been a while and i really should
but i can't bring myself to burn them
is it beautiful or morbid
or something inbetween
like i can't bring myself to tell you
i feel nothing like i seem
'cause im still waiting for the shoes to fall
so i stand there, at the river
and i throw away my plans
and they sink down to the bottom
wrapped up in the chains and sand
is it cruel to hope you'd hold a seance just to talk to me?
well, i'm living in the worst of it
it's a bruise and i'm pressing on it
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vanghostkid Rhode Island
its just me and my 9 year old laptop, garageband, and my mom's guitar against the world
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