1. |
||||
I still remember having dreams
Wrought with palpable anxieties
Of not making due of not passing class
Of missing assignments and of grades sucking ass
That was in June, and I was out in May
Had no more homework & no more essays
And in august
I slid down along the coast
Traded the Hudson for
A South Sun so blinding
But the summer never ended
It stays 80 here forever
I don’t get fall or winter
And I don’t get back to school
I don’t get mountain ranges
And no kisses in snowfall
And I get surrounded
By anxieties on all sides
Thought it was so compartmental
But vibes fade everything, afterthoughts are all I see
|
||||
2. |
||||
Just let me sink
Into these 4 walls
Deductively speaking;
The polar of movement
I can strap myself to bike wheels
But can only really go so far
Before my legs just fail me
And I careen into oncoming traffic
I wanna be dragged by the Sunlight
To expose my faults and fraying
I wanna crash into the Moon
And make hurricanes on my way out
It must be better than just having
My flesh fall slow off bone like this
Yeah it's slow to leaf through palm trees
But it's better than sleeping through snow
And it's getting boring leafing through pages
I write until I am broke
And be broken until I'm fixed
But it's just not gonna make this place any less shit
So let me melt
Into my bedposts
I'll go to Miami one day
But not being so damn tired
I can burn all of my bridges
But not overcome this fear of heights
And I can swim right through the ocean
But get pissed off at the waves
It's fucking boring
Being misunderstood
Like strip mall nirvana and no Internet
My skin is drying out
While I'm keeping;
90% humidity and through 80's through the Winter
So let me rot in Pompano
Keep the cold to myself
I'll fill the gaps of ice life by slipping on my shit nights
And Blizzard games past midnight
|
||||
3. |
||||
Thought I could coast off
And just sleep through the winter
Stand on an island
Till it starts moving
I was mistaken – and I learn that like daily
Just learn your lessons, while it still can make a difference
Board a ship sailing
And swim under a big bridge
Struggle through the storm front
And fistfight with wind gusts
I was mistaken – to ever confront the weather
Just learn my lessons, and I’ll learn them the hard way
Lemonade over crushed ice
Sharing pizza on sun baked rocks
Movies on a rainy day
Riding swings when it’s Sunshiney
Think I’m writing about a past
when it’s playing on present
A song about all the mistakes
When you have to start to decision make
Giving up on indecision
Tussling with indecision
Waiting for the summer
Just to complain about the heat
Thought I could find it
If I took half a year for sleeping
But I’m not as strong as,
And I can’t lift it past dream-scapes
I was mistaken – to take on that weak tack
Make a body of lazing and see where that takes me
|
||||
4. |
||||
Let me explain
Back when I was 19
I was more of a Good Punk
Living out of my heavy backpack
I just didn’t give much of a fuck
Went to enough concerts punk shows in basements
Met enough of Jersey locals
Stepped on enough of these soft toes
Alienated enough that I was rough
But now I’ve got a desktop computer
It’s as thick as my chest and it is comforting
I’ve slept in my bed for a couple of months now
And this skateboard doesn’t signal anything
I’m doing fine, I’m doing well
No never mind that, I’m doing swell
I’m a bore, I’m a whore
Well, I’m really just unsure
I’ve been around, been more intense
But it might have just been circumstance
Cuz I’m as lame as any other human being
So let us see, I’ve got 2 large hard drives
And one solid for my C:
When you get your life onto machine
It’s only natural that you become more of a machine
Don’t get me wrong Kaciznsky wasn’t right
But he wasn’t quite left either
He mighta seen a scrawl drawn on the bathroom wall
Of this technoidiocracy I live
Cuz now I’ve got some really good headphones
But don’t take them around because I want them to keep working
I’ve not left my house for a couple of a days now
And a vacuum can start to write all my songs
I’m doing shit, no hiding it
And losing my faith bit by bit
I’m a bore, just a big fat snore
Of this dope stagnation I’m sure
Maybe I’ve been cool or always a tool
Let me know or I’ll just play the fool
But now I’m lame for sure let me log out
Fuck it all, let’s just say this is the stone around my neck
It weighs like 20 pounds or some shit
And I get pretty scared of losing it
I think I’m giving too much of a fuck
Just so you know, I’m always slacking on my ethos
Praxis coward or a slacker;
Anti-labor & this couch is my picket line
But I’ll be playing more RPG’s here tonight
I’m doing great, it’s no debate, so nevermind that shit always breaks
Give me a drink, and make it soft, but I won’t turn it down if it’s not
Computer’s crash, 5 TB stuffed, it's just another consumptive rut
And Sisyphus is just like work and capital
|
||||
5. |
Just Some Afterthoughts
01:08
|
|||
Yeah I'm a boy
But what has it got me?
Just annoying straight girls & half-dead feelings
But I'm not giving up or putting down
All of my being
Or the sad way I'm grinning
Can just try to be happy and share it so freely
But I gotta learn to love myself for now
Cuz I can't be an afterthought to myself
Be the dustiest toy on a rickety shelf
You can't keep me & make me feel less then
So long as I tell myself that I am important
Cuz I know
There are fish & trees & honey & bees
And fires for me to live by
I got taught about love & care
But I can start to throw some back to myself
|
||||
6. |
||||
Share this – drink this moment here
Make eyes, give faces, below & above
We should have nothing much left here to fear
Graffiti at Glenwood reads; “Change starts with love”
This will make clear; I’ll make sense of the summer
Throughout the fall I called to listen
But I can’t be sure I even listened
Selfish, less than shit – lend me an ear
I’ll just whine about this lot of living
There'll be pride one day soon but for now forget it
My guitar, my cadence, each crack tightly wound
But it just makes me less sure than I have ever been
Makes pictures of disaster that I would sooner skirt
Algernon to Glenwood ave from when these feelings didn't hurt
But why should this life be pulled taut over every single part?
Talking & living I'm still the only one who gets me
But maybe I shouldn’t be got & this is my best
My life just hunched over when the songs play
It crosses my mind, time over time, it's constant
I’m constantly falling, of a few different kinds
It's just a little misshapen sort of dead ring
Life torn up by all sorts of love-type things
No helping it, just a whole mess of love-type things
|
||||
7. |
||||
Stretching out my shirt if I’m not simply tearing it
Is it gaining weight or is everything aging with me?
It’s not a question
That I want answered
Picking up a habit hoping hoping that it’ll make me interesting
Never joining dating sites cuz I lack that sort of confidence
Feeling like a mess but don’t ever try to fix me
Not feeling so great lately it’s really better to forget it
I’ve not spent the time at places like in college
Seeing cool people or just being around them
Absorbing any vibes
In paper cups I’m begging
Without injury in my art I was doing fucking fine
I didn’t need to hurt to express the things I wanted to
Sleep alone
Sleep alone forever
|
||||
8. |
||||
I’m wasting your time
Why haven’t you figured that out yet?
I care more about this stupid music
And my contracts with made-up deadlines
Than about anybody I see on the day-to-day
But let’s study together sometime
And I can bring along my stupid problems
And maybe even snacks to eat
Just pity stupid little me
For feeling how I do in the first goddamn place
We’re saving this time
In hand holding mid-squeezes
I care as much about this moment here
As I have about this whole damn life
This is special, and I really think I care
(And care is rare, so savor it
I don't wanna lose my feeling
For once in my life I don't)
But I’m mess, that I know, and don’t wanna
Drag anybody down – but please support me
And I can tank for you and take it all
But savor that discordance and start eating the same tropes
I see everyone here’s in the same kinda mess
And if I think too hard about it
The second thought will start to become the top dog
I wouldn’t recommend that you share a space, so please
I’ll give you 5 more fucking seconds till you’re fully sick of me
This might just be wasting time
I haven’t figured that out yet
And nothing too special
But I’ll see to that in my future
‘Till then I’ll just rest on My Future 86
Might just be making time
Out of time that I don’t have
No time for wasting time, I’ll do it anyway
And work out on a future
Mask off, mask on, mask on
(No time for wasting for wasting time
Got time, got time on my mind)
|
||||
9. |
||||
If my life didn’t matter I wouldn’t care about art
But if life gets too boring I’ll think that it got passé
Like a series ran it seasons and then ran out of ideas
And I’ll just toss it away, resign myself to cold blues
Mourning and bitching, an evening in life
Everyone second of age twenty-two
Just back to my regrets
Drowning and ash cigarettes
Hope I can harvest inspiration
In this dry spell incantation
Make a magic of a casting
A broadcast fuzz in breath of fasting
Hope I can make a thing worth living
And not move back home with nothing doing
Make a triumphant reprise of this mess
And be the most talented and dauntless
If life didn’t matter I wouldn’t care about the plot
Maybe I’m being over-dramatic but I can’t help feel Evan fucked up
Divorced parents, new redux
Resign myself to the same old shit
Exiled, pines die, an evergreen grave
A new style to dragging your feet
Leaving my past
Overeating & sleeping all day
That’s me in the passenger seat and
I watch but don’t guide
And see but don’t receive
It’s a closed circle on the inside or out and
Feels the place don’t exist
Where I can just be myself
To mosh & crash, talk trash & clean my floors
If life was too perfect I wouldn’t be good at art
With something to bitch for I have songs left to write
The day that I don’t want to break up the state
Will be so slow and sleepy and I’ll probably just leave
Cinders and sondering, creating my days
Trying to be more fulfilled in that way
Aligning my spine
Clean hair, and dirt, small-time dreams
Hope I can harvest art & meaning
Shape it to something worth believing
Shape it to a work I put faith in
Make a sketch I’ll mold to living
And I'll see where that’ll put me
Let that motivate me
Motivate me all the way to burning logs
Burning building, molotovs, and
Sleep and...
I still remember the X’s on my hands
But I was a lot younger, yeah, a lot younger back then
Take me back home to something like a home at all
|
||||
10. |
(Not So) Good Vibes
00:53
|
|||
All my bullshit has been used up
And I'm so sick of bitter old photos
And dust caking lifetimes
My years is paved & concrete-covered
I stamp my feet & I feel them down there
Making beds with worm shit high tides
It's a cliché but I need some good vibes
|
||||
11. |
||||
These are songs I didn’t make
But they shaped my personality
Like a ‘94 album
That I listened on repeat
Throughout high school & throughout depression
And it shares my anniversary
It will grow old just like I will
Unlike me songs will stay the same forever
But I don’t hear the Holy Bible
In the same way that I used to
Back when I was self-hating and uncool
But it’s alright
I still have Chocolate & Cheese
And it’s OK I still have
My religion & Bible of blasphemy
And Crooked Rain to wet my shoes
Be a Loser like No One Else I know
Be ready for when the Kite String begins to Pop
And it’s more important than ever to know
How to Clean Everything around me
And it’ll make a big damn difference To make a meaningful difference
Between Tongue Biting emo tape trading
I grew up in a small town just north of the city of New York
I was never rich enough to feel like I belonged there
And I was never street enough to be respected or liked
Or conventional enough to be a theater kid either
So I listened to a bunch of old music to displace into a time when I could be more a part and not so apart
Then I dressed and talked and acted like it was real, until on some level, it was
But I couldn’t overcome Imposter Syndrome and I couldn’t just rip off
80’s indie rock bands forever so I had to make myself into something And I didn’t know what that something is but I knew that I wanted it, because then I could be more than just a bunch of cells amalgamated into flesh
And take the leap into being, and art, and all sorts of shit like that
And that’s why...
(1-2 fuck you, 3-4 sing more)
It’s so important to make something of your music
Cuz it’s snapshot and culture
And the language people are speaking
It’s meaning on macro and micro
So if say something is trash I don’t just mean just that the song is bad
I mean; “It’s got no story or emotion
And it speaks only to money”
And money’s just to fill the cracks the last I checked
So give me a song I can
Hum to myself while walking home
In the winter after a sweaty show
That tells me of the moment and the buildings and heartbeats
It’s just a need I’ve not filled out quite yet
|
||||
12. |
||||
Cool & smooth & on the block
I’m in love with my indie haircut
You should love my indie haircut
My stickers guitar and lazy singing
And my cool kid politics
I’m the queen of absolutely nothing
While I deftly hold onto what is killing me
But you don’t, you don’t gotta know that
I wanna be yr’ Carrie Brownstein
Think I’m cute like Theo Hilton
I wanna be yr’ Carrie Brownstein
Sing my heart out just like John Galm did
I think that you’ve got me all wrong
I even have myself all wrong
A left hand drawing out the right
I am no exception
Don’t you even think it
More social problems caked with playing guitar
I’m not convincing anyone.
And nobody is convincing me
I’m the queen of absolutely nothing
While I pretend to hold this shit together
But that’s nothing, that’s nothing that you gotta hear
I wanna be ‘yr Carrie Brownstein
Make you cry like Molly Fischer
I wanna be ‘yr Carrie Brownstein
Make some waves like Laura Stevenson
I’m the queen of my own domain only
Write the songs so oblique, subjective, poetically
But that’s not gonna get the Dollar Signs
I wanna be yr Carrie Brownstein
Shred my throat like Stefan Babcock
I wanna be yr Carrie Brownstein
Destroy myself just like Jeff Smith did
Break my heart like Billy Werner
Paint a world like Mogli Squalor
Shred this shit like Will Killingsworth
Just call out like Jeffrey Lewis
*Incomprehensible screaming*
|
||||
13. |
||||
An open road means promises
Or at least a change of pace
We got exit signs in the rearview
Until you scrape at the edge of states
It’s got me fucked up, Orlando’s
Like an entire world away
But it don’t change, you don’t see change
Unless you tinker with your brain
World’s all sharp colors or greyscale
Or back and forth and in between
Alpha on her scooter
Johnny on the rails
Sissy with her thumb out
Big fish spinning tall tales
Let this inspire me, make desire in me
Get to enough defiance
Till the foundations bend & break
I guess my mind has shifted
Or maybe just turned 25
There’s a fraying in the blind spot
Where I am and want to be
But there’s no excuse, got no damn excuses
For putting out my immolation
Greeting my future with refusals
When you get tired of lethargy spiked with apathy
You gotta greet the Sun beating down the roads of Providence
Finding out the death of me is something I’ve been postponing constantly
A month of rent means no more questions
And with no questions I can just stop thinking
There’s too much that’s failed in doing
That I leave it all in stacks or rain & ruin
Feels like I’m giving up on me
So why can’t everyone just join me
But they see it, what I used to see
Now a world ghostly fears laid down so heavy
Instead of not being so scared to see myself all broken up
Wesley with his keyboard
The recordings of the Pod
A ramshackle make of beauty
That a teenager could dream
Not feeling too young but let’s not forget
I got a heart that’s beating
And it keeps going forward with me
Sometimes I think that’s all I need
If I could tap & drink so deeply
|
||||
14. |
||||
I worry about myself
But I don’t worry about this country
Cuz there’s never really justice on stolen land
And I only stole myself into new identities
As I got older
I thought less & less about identity
And what I think it really means to me
Cuz I believe in so many other things
But botherers be botherers and I’ll take that just as is
Cuz I can’t be bothering with botherers and fall into their sin
It’s time to nap, it’s time to sleep, topped off with ice cream
It’s time to leave, it’s time to dream
Cuz I’m getting real bored of being bored
Wanna girl who dresses like it’s always fall
And a boy who has poetry at the very tip of his tongue
Where it won’t matter
Where I’m going or where I’m from
Too many times I find that it doesn’t suit me
I put on a new shirt and it’s choking and starchy
Well, I found out but it’s too goddamn late
Wanna walk down the street be composing in a home place
Find out the timeline splint and work a thread and needle through the night
And wake up to a sunrise
And not past 10 in the morning
Sort life out when the day is still young
Cuz things only get worse when I think and live off of simple instinct
But really…
Botherers be botherers and I’ll take that just as is
Cuz I can’t be bothering with botherers and fall into their sin
It’s not to work it’s not to stress it’s to be clean & serene
It’s time to leave the house, maybe
Cuz I’m getting real bored of being bored
I’m getting real bored of being dead
I'm getting real bored of being bored
|
||||
15. |
Broken Bike Riding
00:45
|
|||
My bike's brakes brakes no longer work
The pads got worn right off
My old car has become scrap
Hit 95 then driveway grass
This car has become crap
Mind & melody
Inspiration point unknown
Come on back to me
Before I lose your shape
|
||||
16. |
||||
I grew a beard in July
Cuz I wouldn't buy a razor
It just grew till it stopped
Making my face so itchy
Among other bad decisions I have been making lately
I grew a beard in July
Till I started to kinda like it
All patchy and scratchy and frankly a
Failed Attempt At Facial Hair
But I digress, it's not so different
Find a day to shave it
And go back to the same me
I had left behind & had kept
Stored inside my pocket but still...
I grew a beard in July
Till I started to kinda like it
I grew a beard in July
Like an allegory I started living
I grew a beard in July
Till I just quit
|
||||
17. |
||||
I’ve left before & it stung for a little bit
Now I wanna leave 1 million times
So that I will just stop feeling it
Can’t head south so north for colder climes
Throw my hands up out the window
Cops are closing in on every inch
I live for the moments
That I wanna where I disappear into memories
A sehnsucht time more easy
And I party alone in art & artifice
A pile of sticks to frame a sunset
“Fuck it, 3 more tears in the bucket”
I’ve slept alone & I miss it a little bit
Willing to try again give me a couch & not a bed
Throw it away, clean up the dirty floor
Fall off a bike, bruise & scrape, I ain’t 24
Throw my hands out blocking the fall
Everything bit of blood reprised in every inch of skin
I’m kinda sick
Waiting for this coffee to kick in
To get something productive
To escape all this mundane shit
Throw my hands up, givin’ up the ghost
Give your praise and retire this old broken host
Baby you’re my death pact
Unrealized dreams & opiates
Failing out ain’t buying in like
Wohohohohohoh
Baby you’re my lost road
Falling asleep & crashing this shit
Living a lie & staying silent to die like
Wohohohohohoh
Abandonment feels so psychotic
Like the money & friends just never end
Give it a little time and it won’t be so
Wohohohohohoh
Am I alive when I don’t change my scene for months?
Wanna meet more people before I’m totally undone
Stop living my worst life start carrying my head high
Fill a flush with absinthe and lily whites
And feeling like a piece of trash ready for recycling
But everything makes me feel like shit
Like tryna put stuff out of mind that I might miss
It’s a storm that took my roof made the pieces move around
Till I drop the ball, fail the test, and lost track of pretty sounds
Everything little thing can make me feel like shit
Everything is happening but nothing is around me here
(It’s like a dream, that I forget, it’s just like a dream that I forgot)
I’ve left before & it stung for a little bit
Now I wanna leave 1 million times
So that I will just start not feeling it
I Can’t head out at all so I'll just go back home
And throw my hands up, resigning off
And giving up on my gen
|
||||
18. |
||||
Songs from when I was seventeen
Sad to say, mean the same old things to me
But I was a little bit cooler back in the day
With a walkman, sneer, and flannel on
But it was cool before cool
An old-school wreck I'll never amend
Till it just became nostalgia
For when I could of been something
All I've got is a past
Where the ceiling spoke right back to me
And everything that made some sense
Showed itself real plain & clean
Shown through super clearly
But it's gotten all muddled now
Like a scratched up Wii for retirees
Or a piano with more dust than keys
Hoods up, the way down
Is cut through the permafrost
With a head high I always lie
To make things go down easier
But it's a lie that I reprise time after time
But it don't make sense
Only show things through expression but set fire to my cadence
I'm not saying that it's not alright
All I'm saying is I'm not gonna turn on the light
Might don't make right but that don't mean I'm not gonna fight
Punch the clock till hands fall & point the way to something better
All I got are vibes
Hand-me-down & dusty
Everything just fades to dream
And life gets cut bloody & lean
Fall scenes & school enemies
Like an old boring movie
The lots & woods I used to run in get paved over all bougie
|
||||
19. |
August 21st
01:27
|
|||
The air don't care for me
I can die, fail my life, starve & fade
The air keeps on cycling
Clouds form & break
Planes land & fly away
It's like breath & the release of lungs
The breath of '17
The release of '18
I bleed.
From sky to the wetlands
A trail of crimson on the beach
It's washed away in hours
By the sea.
Goodbye.
|
||||
20. |
||||
When it’s 80 all the time
I can never know when it’s cold out
And I lose the frame of reference
Behind rest & relaxation
It’ll be simple & stupid
Just like I have been feeling lately
Wasting my time
Is now every second of the day
And getting stressed out
Is now perpetual reality
I’m cultivating grey hair
And getting older in every way
I was expecting paradise a place to grow into
And found weak winds flatten on broken sails
Summer never started,
it didn’t really make a difference
Lots of things changing
Cuz heat changes composition
But I am the same person
After college & after moving
But don’t let anybody know that, let them think
That I’m starting to make changes
I’ll talk to a friend I knew from high school,
And say nothing but, well;
“It’s been a long, long, time”
I’m waiting on the next step, I’m leaving
And I’ll remain real elusive
I am a lost wave
Crashing on the riverfront
I am a shadow
Cast by a big palm tree
I am ghost
Chatting by coffee downtown
A little bit of snow
That’ll clog up your commute
A coworker you once had
But you can't recall the name
A song that got removed
Completely from the internet
A long-down drag-out fight
That you wish you could just leave
A guitar
With all the strings cut off
A piano
With all broken keys
I am all of these things
I am none of these things
I am all of these things
I am none of these things
I dunno, if anyone thinks of me, too much
And that feels like a sad, faded photograph
It feels like a photograph in the closet in sepia & faded
Do it again, do it again, do it again, do it again
Vibes fade, vibes fade, vibes fade
Just like a bike with the wheel fell off
In a pool house that you forgot
Vibes fade to afterthoughts
Just like cursed years
That you wanna leave behind
Into a bag, into july, into the Sun I want to leave behind…
|
Little King Trash Mouth Peekskill, New York
Hi, I'm Little King Trash Mouth. I play ridiculous and sometimes even good songs on guitar and other instruments. I've had too many monikers. Cute firebomb, red roses, ACAB, decolonized and ecological political parity. Most of this music is from manic episodes. ... more
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