Shout the battle cry for freedom
๐ต 3373 characters
โฑ๏ธ 6:11 duration
๐ ID: 25353166
๐ Lyrics
Fuck your deadlines, fuck your editors, fuck friends
Fuck responsibility, fuck living long
Fuck getting up in the morning
Fuck writing the big things
The wine bottle is rising from between
Your legs like a dark glass lighthouse
And you laugh, your teeth slop red-black of wine and crooked smile
With late winter comes spiders in your synapses
Skittering down brain tubes to eat at happiness
Ideas, sex drive, energy, ambition, passion
Youth gone shriveled and frozen like rock gravel
Crunching beneath your sneakers
And you're walking to that mine that killed your great grandfather
Black-lunged Pennsylvania coal mine
Its mouth is empty and fanged
And its throat runs tubed straight down
Where shadowed reapers crouch on wheelbarrowed mine tracks
Or lie lurking in mine cars with phantom grandfathers black eyed
Slavic square-faced and grey haired
Beckoning with crook of finger saying
"Have a drink with me, kid, what's taking you so long?"
She goes distant in January
"You haven't been happy in months," she says
"I don't know what's wrong with me," you say
"I feel like a bird in a cage," she says
"Nothing I once loved makes me happy anymore," you say
"You need to go to the doctor," she says
"I feel like I'm losing it," you say
"We need to get out of the city," she says
"I feel like I got a demon in my head," you say
"What do you need me for anymore?" she says
"I feel like I'm already dead," you say
"You're so selfish," she says
"Don't leave me," you say
"I feel like getting in a car and driving away," she says
Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me
Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me
At night, at clubs and bars you drink with friends
They buy you drinks because your name is in the magazines they read
But she's off with the older kids
Across the club in the back of the bar
The ones who have figured it out
While you seek the dark spots and rotting doomed faces
Destined to grow old and sit in hospital beds
Connected to tubes and wires
Yellow piss bags and sludge shit coughing a paint can rattle
Wondering if it was worth it
And whether they could have done better
And you go home and drink more
Drink till everything goes muffled and warm and good
And you sing to yourself and rock happy alone on the couch
Then comes chill of dawn with light over purple hills of the east
And you pull the covers back up
Your face is a swollen mess
With spring comes the thaw of her
Heart and she's driving you to go wild
To be good and be crazy
You're fighting it though, eating pills that Dr. Wren gave you
But faking happy every night
She knows it's not working
And you read religious texts, the Bible
Koran, or fictionalized tales of end times
Thich Nhat Hanh, Gedi Buddhist combs
Krishna, Book of Mormon, and Torah
You look for something to lead you from the dark
You wear the pants and sweaters and shirts of an old man
You shake your pill bottle and toss it in your jacket pocket
Your muscles fade and flesh falls off the bone
Drops like fruit gone to rot
She tries one last time singing the old songs
Singing, "Come away with me, I've already quit that job
We'll finish off the bottle and the agaves too
Take a look around, everybody is sad as you
All you need are dos gusanos, saftera"
And you're fading fast, you hold her
Hand as you walk past 7-11 and say
"Okay, okay, sorry, you're so selfish
Let's go, let's go, let's just go
Okay, okay"
Fuck responsibility, fuck living long
Fuck getting up in the morning
Fuck writing the big things
The wine bottle is rising from between
Your legs like a dark glass lighthouse
And you laugh, your teeth slop red-black of wine and crooked smile
With late winter comes spiders in your synapses
Skittering down brain tubes to eat at happiness
Ideas, sex drive, energy, ambition, passion
Youth gone shriveled and frozen like rock gravel
Crunching beneath your sneakers
And you're walking to that mine that killed your great grandfather
Black-lunged Pennsylvania coal mine
Its mouth is empty and fanged
And its throat runs tubed straight down
Where shadowed reapers crouch on wheelbarrowed mine tracks
Or lie lurking in mine cars with phantom grandfathers black eyed
Slavic square-faced and grey haired
Beckoning with crook of finger saying
"Have a drink with me, kid, what's taking you so long?"
She goes distant in January
"You haven't been happy in months," she says
"I don't know what's wrong with me," you say
"I feel like a bird in a cage," she says
"Nothing I once loved makes me happy anymore," you say
"You need to go to the doctor," she says
"I feel like I'm losing it," you say
"We need to get out of the city," she says
"I feel like I got a demon in my head," you say
"What do you need me for anymore?" she says
"I feel like I'm already dead," you say
"You're so selfish," she says
"Don't leave me," you say
"I feel like getting in a car and driving away," she says
Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me
Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me
At night, at clubs and bars you drink with friends
They buy you drinks because your name is in the magazines they read
But she's off with the older kids
Across the club in the back of the bar
The ones who have figured it out
While you seek the dark spots and rotting doomed faces
Destined to grow old and sit in hospital beds
Connected to tubes and wires
Yellow piss bags and sludge shit coughing a paint can rattle
Wondering if it was worth it
And whether they could have done better
And you go home and drink more
Drink till everything goes muffled and warm and good
And you sing to yourself and rock happy alone on the couch
Then comes chill of dawn with light over purple hills of the east
And you pull the covers back up
Your face is a swollen mess
With spring comes the thaw of her
Heart and she's driving you to go wild
To be good and be crazy
You're fighting it though, eating pills that Dr. Wren gave you
But faking happy every night
She knows it's not working
And you read religious texts, the Bible
Koran, or fictionalized tales of end times
Thich Nhat Hanh, Gedi Buddhist combs
Krishna, Book of Mormon, and Torah
You look for something to lead you from the dark
You wear the pants and sweaters and shirts of an old man
You shake your pill bottle and toss it in your jacket pocket
Your muscles fade and flesh falls off the bone
Drops like fruit gone to rot
She tries one last time singing the old songs
Singing, "Come away with me, I've already quit that job
We'll finish off the bottle and the agaves too
Take a look around, everybody is sad as you
All you need are dos gusanos, saftera"
And you're fading fast, you hold her
Hand as you walk past 7-11 and say
"Okay, okay, sorry, you're so selfish
Let's go, let's go, let's just go
Okay, okay"