1. |
I Don't Dance
04:32
|
|
||
|
Did you know I sat right here most days I choose to come to class? I'm rather slow, don't like my presence to be known. I'm like a turtle on his throne, hide in my shell and scream at the microphone. A straight 30 days will pass us by as you and I play silly games, try and decide where the other lies. And I'll lose the war, defeat myself, you'll be back for more. Wish I could prove me wrong. Why get out of bed? I'm barely dedicated to keep fumbling around for your attention. It's crumbling in front of me, this nest I built in my head. “You won't do this today, so sit back down.” As the lecture came to a close I casually rose from my hunched pose. I think she got the message, she cut me off after “do you suppose...” She said “Before I answer, you gotta tell me your name.” I said “That shouldn't be a problem, that's the only thing I'm not trying to change.”
|
||||
2. |
What You Don't Know
03:32
|
|
||
|
This is over, before I even get the chance to step my foot in and ask for a dance. I won’t get the chance, I’ll be passed up and overlooked like so many times before I get to hold open your door. Though you still want more. And I told myself, “I’m too grown up for this, too mature for this.” But see, I don’t know. Yeah it’s happening, I’m sucked into this. So fed up with this. It’s what you don’t know. And as I sit here, I ponder up the possibilities I see, you mean too much for me to impede. It’s so frustrating, ‘cause of how little in life you just see and know, and it shows by the way my confidence glows. But I’m the nice guy who loses all the time. I’m the nice guy who’s losing this time. And it’s better to keep it that way. Only better to just speculate.
|
||||
3. |
Turn to Dirt
04:09
|
|
||
|
Tell me about the time when you were younger, did you satisfy your hunger for words? Are you on a search for what you’re missing? Is the ghost you’re chasing pissing you off? Hey there, are you angry? Are you hurt? Is this the last song you’re gonna hear before you’re gonna turn to dirt? It’s not fair, it’s reality. So adjust or it’ll be the last song you’re gonna hear before you’re gonna turn to dust. Maybe it’s better off just to wait another year, then I’ll change. Leaving everything to future me, to bother me with these things. Oh, buddy, it’s too late, the same damn story. You caught me, my hands are bleeding. Third strike, now you’re offing all these people. Why are you offing all these people around? Head first, face down, shutting out everyone shouting the truth. Is this the last thing you want to see hidden from your point of view? Don’t be hanging by a thread, you’ll crash and leave me here instead. All the pain redundant now, isn’t it? Where the hell is my lifeline? You swore you’d meet me there in time. All the lies to keep them all innocent.
|
||||
4. |
Athazagoraphobia
04:52
|
|
||
|
I’ve been quiet for a year now, slowly biding my time. You’ve been laughing in the meantime says the picture I saw. “Don’t break! Don’t be hanging by your lifelines, because there’s no second chance.” Are you here to save me? Here to tame me of my distaste for your enabling words of love? Face down in the water, I’m all out of air. You offered to bother me; to tell me I’m scared. Did you ever know that I could talk to you this way? As you see me now am I just as loud? Am I afraid of being alone?
|
||||
5. |
Somebody Else
03:42
|
|
||
|
There are no boundaries where I'm going except the ones I find. When I lie around my room I talk to strangers, and they read my mind. Thought that I could be impartial to the flaws that lead to my demise. Hope that I could be impartial enough to just live my life. There is no cure for people like me, people suffering so subtly. I'm so lost. No one understands what it’s like to try and be somebody else. Don't know when I decided that it wasn't really worth it anymore. Guess that I just woke up one day motivated to be who I've always been.
|
||||
6. |
Purple Room
05:58
|
|
||
|
My purple room, like so many others is painted. We try and do what others’ll say will taint it. But I don't get how they see what they see, to my eyes it's subjective. Keep complaining, it's just a fucking room. Why should I hold my tongue for you? It's my room. It’s my room. So what's it to you? I'll tell you why. Maybe it’s from spite, maybe I'm a spiteful guy. Why? I hate the way you never strive to fix how blind. Hide your eyes in my purple room. One verse to spill my guts to how I've handled moving out and starting over. So what the hell do you want from me? Are you actually expecting for me to fall on my knees and scream? I'm sorry, let's keep this interesting. Standing there, I was aware of the choices set before me. You made it clear. Should I endear myself or will you abhor me? I swear I tried to find a common ground between our ideals and breed them. You want to see them. You want to string them up by their hide and bleed them. Is it fair? Are you asking or just testing the waters so you can make sure I'm under control? Don't trust me any longer?
|
||||
7. |
|
|||
|
Who sold you out? Is he standing in this room? Forcing you to bite your tongue watching your every move?. You're on edge now; you've got something to prove to me, to everybody listening to the bullshit you spew. And now I'm worried, are you okay? Forced me to bite my tongue a thousand miles away. They stole her, foot soldiers. They shot her through the lens. They let her see. I’m not pretending that I haven’t noticed you figured it out; I just don’t want to ask how. Have you forgotten the town that you grew up in? Convinced you to bite your tongue so now you're in the open. Do you hear me? Cause I see you. You're on TV, oh, look at you.
|
||||
8. |
Vladislav Tretiak
03:04
|
|
||
|
You have my permission to pretend like you haven’t noticed. I have things to say, but nobody is listening. You’re not a frightful sight, kid. I guarantee, I promise. See how empty, everything? I have things to say, but no one asked. You’re not your fucking khakis, man. Baby boy made promises to motion like he’ll call you; to eat ‘til he throws up, just a little. Baby boy can’t pry himself off the couch. I hate you most days. These days baby boy’s upset again. Break down the pattern. Reflect. Regurgitate and then your head’s gonna turn to dirt, friend, and absolutely nothing will happen past that. The rain man of Irish goodbyes. I don’t want to, but I think I should be alone. I know that you don’t feel guilty, and you shouldn’t. I’m just biding my time until you need me around again. The turn signal metronome and the absolute certainty that you can’t guilt your friends into shit these days. The turn signal metronome: I lost my place again, can I start over?
|
||||
9. |
|
|||
|
I wouldn’t care if you stooped lower. I couldn’t care for it any longer. Little train that could make conversation. Hey, can I borrow your sweater, please? I swear to God I’ll make it worth it, unless I don’t or can’t. I’d rather hear your thoughts on God than to regurgitate the weatherman’s prediction of the cold front moving west. Goddamn, I’m a monster. I don’t care about your fidelity to what you said before we met. Should this go poorly, I hope I die alone in a bathroom, in private, asphyxiating on a dinner roll. Hey, can I lend you my sweater, Darling? Thanks for your time, entertaining me, I’ll see you this time next week. I could fall in love with a rock if it waved and smiled pretty at me. Goddamn, I mean, how about that? I guess this is sense memory. Left on my own wondering, “was it something I did?” How fucking long does it take happiness to kick in? All that I’m saying is that it sucks to be forgotten again.
|
||||
10. |
Ten Months
03:16
|
|
||
|
If you were here right now would you apologize? Or if I were there somehow would you demonize all the persons I’ve been this past ten months? Or all the fiction I’ve spun these past ten months? You put me on a pedestal. Did you even realize? You didn’t see me at eye level. Could you sympathize with all the persons I’ve been these past ten months? Or all the fiction I’ve spun these past ten months? I’ve found it’s easiest to shove down my feelings, because every time I try to tell you, you don’t have the time to give a shit.
|
||||
Chairea Bozeman, Montana
cherry-uh
Michael, Eric, Austin and Connor. We're from Montana.
If you like Chairea, you may also like:
The Bees Knees: A Compilation For Dan
by Various
The proceeds of this extensive compilation of punk and rock go towards the healthcare costs of beloved musician Dan Wild-Beesley.
go to album
Sweet and surf-like pop with lackadaisical vocals from Bay Area favorite Justin Cheromiah.
go to album
Zasługuję na istnienie
by Melisa
Polish trio Melisa combine elements of noise rock, grindcore, mathcore, and sludge with lyrics that balance between poetic and political.
go to album
Delicate, detailed, and reflective chamber pop, with 25% of proceeds going to the Sylvia Rivera Law Project.
go to album
Bracing post-hardcore meets festival-ready rock on the Tokyo band's sharp new EP, mixed and mastered by Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight).
go to album
This post-punk Philadelphia duo tackle gender dysphoria, transitioning, and anxiety on their debut album.
go to album
Slowcore, shoegaze, twee, and noise find their way into this ambitious full length from the St. Louis band Frankie Valet.
go to album
