1. |
Gripped
02:20
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I’ve been waiting for the chance to tell you why I was right about you and I. I’m choking back the words that I desperately needed to say. It’s pointless of me to state the obvious fact that I’m losing my way. So I’ll stay in bed all day, where I’ll sleep off the emotional weight that I’ve gained from unhealthy outlets. It’s an awful force of habit that I cannot control. I’m quitting life, so I think I’ll stay alone. Feels like I’m right at home. Forgiving you will never be worth it, I’d rather forget this, the good and the bad parts, the beds that we slept on, your texts and your phone calls, I’ve never felt so gone. I’m so gone. And I can’t feel anything with you, but it feels like I’m home. I guess it’s set in stone. Feels like I’m right at home.
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2. |
Clouds
02:53
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A consistent look at how my life has gone; I’m always behind, and doing things wrong. The joke stays the same, another laugh and biased claim. An accounting degree is the secret these days to a life I’ve never wanted. A cubicle hides my thoughts. This city has surely confirmed the worst of cliches I’ve heard. And there’s a few things that I’d like to say concerning my malignant ways. Rewire, rewind. Retry and realize. Let’s mess this up, just you and I. I’ll self-destruct just one more time. I like this pain, I’ll be alright. Rewire, rewind, so that I can finally start anew with my cookie-cutter life for two. And here I wonder if I’ll live past 30, with a basic job and an average family. Or will I always be this depressed, like I’ve been the last six months? Call it chemical or clinical, either way I’ll still be cynical.
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3. |
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Constant confusion; my adolescence; depressive feelings; it’s reminiscent of how I used to cope and used to run away from my friends. They all think I’m burned out but truthfully I’m just your basic letdown. Self-confidence is something that I struggle with. As the climate shifts to dark and rainy fits, and I think of how I wish I could get over it, my disposition stays. This must be more than a phase, my average day. To me, it’s my dismay. Bearing a countenance much better fit for sad songs, cigarettes and old cassettes, it’s my surroundings I’ve grown accustomed to. I’m screaming inside my head I can’t figure out why everything I wear is colored black and despondent, dismal, destroyed and downcast. It’s a dreary look, but damn, I wear it good. And I think of how I wish I didn’t feel so sick every time I looked your way, my bones they feel decay, it’s getting worse. But I think I’ve found the source. I think I’m getting better, I think I’m getting there. And my story goes I’m just way too slow to keep up with the times. I’m always wasting mine. I’ll hide myself away, social media and better pay are distant days. Why have I become something I hate?
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4. |
Double Knife Damage
03:08
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I finally gave up; now it’s video games and plastic cups that fill my room. I think I spoke too soon. As my expectations rise, I fill my mind with countless lies, a mess of contradictions and too much downtime. I’ve spent too much alone, and now I’m reaping what I sow. And there’s a lot of things that I wish I could have done, to keep myself from giving up, or getting pissed off at everyone. It’s just a common illusion that I trick myself into, thinking everything is different as I fall over right on cue. So tell me what it takes to be like you. Ignoring every bit of tact like you’ve got something to prove. I just hate to blame you for this, but you know that it’s true. You’ve screwed this up beyond repair and now we’re paying dues. We spent too much time alone and now we’re reaping what we’ve sown. And there's a lot of things that I wish we hadn’t done, so that I wouldn’t feel attached every time I thought of us. It’s just a stupid assumption that you were doing fine, but you were stuck inside your head and couldn’t make up your mind. And there’s a sad excuse of a conscience in my mind that constantly suggests to me that I am wasting all my time. On the pointless feelings I’ve construed, I’m finally convinced we’re old news.
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5. |
Four Ninety
03:44
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Where do you find the strength to live like this? Hiding yourself, you pretend to exist. From clinic to calling, you slip from my grasp. Ghostly at living, you discount our past. I’ve tried to move on, but I’m facing the facts. And are you facing the fact that we’re never going back? Now I’m sick to my stomach and everything hurts. You’ve moved on now, thats the last that I’ve heard. It’s funny how things change when you don’t know yourself. We fought and we’ve battled, you’ve given me hell. I’m prideful and bitter, but I think that it helps. And do you think this helps? Tell me, ‘cause I can’t tell. There’s an emptiness within that fills the open space inside my aching chest, punctured by your flaming sword, collapsing both my lungs - I can’t be the only one who thought we were safe. When will I see we’ve seen our last days?
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Second Anchor Line Provo, Utah
Nic on Guitar, Tai on Bass, Rick on drums
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