1. |
Brother Bed
04:08
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I left my bags in my car so that I could tell you that I can’t leave today. Sitting outside, to come up with line to convince to be patient while I wait. You need to realize that I deserve this time alone, you know. I’m not just fine with how I always try and fail most every time to be more than just alright. Just because something isn’t everything doesn’t make it nothing; trying is an indication that I care. I wish I could do for you everything that you need but its impossible and I’m sorry. So please, let me make you happy; if only for awhile, it’s all I can offer for now. I wish I didn’t care, it makes things easier. Self control, possession of my thoughts…I’m a deviant inside my mind. I love my bed more than I should, but it doesn’t respond in kind.
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2. |
Firebugs
04:48
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Consider this an abstract; a short synopsis of how I overreact when something doesn’t go how it should. There might be worse things, but that doesn’t make it good. It’s gotta be like watching a toddlers tantrum (if toddlers were passive-aggressive and tantrums were netflix). I always find someone else to blame - whether its you or her, to me its all the same. Friday night, coming up with these pathetic lines and all I have to show for it is rarely worth the time. Saturday someone helps me steam up my windows, but that's all she does and that's all that I want. The amount of time I spend in bed simply can’t be healthy. My aching back doesn’t prompt enough motivation to help me stand up and try to move or at least pick up the phone. Is it apathy or a mental disease? I’m kind of glad that I don’t know. I have no love interest, I have no interest in love. It’s self-inflicted boredom, there’s places I could be; I find that when I’m on my own is a lot like when you’re with me. It's you, not me, let's make that clear, except for when it's me.
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3. |
Thank You Based Emo Greg
03:42
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It’s winter and some days I don’t leave my house till 4. That means its dark already when I open my front door. Frozen clouds of mist coat my windshield as I try to handle this. There has to be someone out there who’s not trying to run away. I can’t imagine myself finding where to stay to feel contented. I’ve been selfish recently, as proved by my writing. Complaining about everything to justify my whining, and pinning my problems on her, but it seems like it only makes things worse. I try to derive meaning and purpose from things that are inherently meaningless. I take the words of a top 40 song and make them about me, but I still end up empty.
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4. |
Professor Florentine
03:14
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You’re driving too fast, you’re making me nervous. I need you to slow down. it’s been eight weeks since i’ve even had a shot at it, just slow down, you’re racing to a stop sign. It might be a long six hours. I can feel you being needy on the other end of the phone, I can’t do it. I sit straight up, I’m coming down, I’m alone at Tyler’s place. Everybody’s gone and my good intentions stare me in the face. It’s a strange sort of prison. We both know this won’t work out. It’s another version of this weeks noise, and I feel strange for saying I miss you. I’ll hide away in my room, I’ll play these scenes out in my head. I see the old you, the one that I looked up to and I realize I’m not who I used to be. Make it stop, make all of it stop, it’s just too much, you’re racing to a stop sign. You’ve got to make it a habit to go lay down when you get this high.
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5. |
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Can’t help but wonder what I’ll come up with next as an explanation why. Since my best excuse was my adolescence and that well ran dry. It doesn’t seem right, no it doesn’t seem right. High hopes have a long way to fall, and the landing is rarely soft. You’ve got color on your breath, but there’s still winter in my chest and I’m willing to bet that you don’t know that things are getting better in spite of all the weather. I’m kind of glad to say we’re not alone. I painted the birds for you, but my colors aren’t bright enough. I want to shine for you, but my mind just isn’t light enough. And you’re so gracious, and I’m so grateful, with you so pleasant and I so humble. Something doesn’t seem right - with all that said somewhere in my head, something just doesn’t seem right.
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6. |
Interlude
02:33
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7. |
Surrogate
04:04
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You’re right, we want different things. You want someone to distract you from yourself, I want someone who lets me be myself. So maybe next time I’ll think before I answer your call. For you to complain that my hands don’t feel the way you think they should, for you to keep pushing me away so I don’t get the wrong idea even though this is all completely wrong. Think about this. Keep thinking about yourself, you’ll still be thought about. Still pushing me away, we won’t make the wrong life. Even though there is nothing wrong.
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8. |
You Never Told Me Why
03:23
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I can feel the rift grow a bit everyday, between you and me and Friday nights with nothing to say, and this sense of distance will become reality as the miles and the effort both become too much. Between the springtime and the start of June, I won't hold it above your head any longer even though l will be leaving soon. You've had it given to you, you've had it handed right down and it’s hard to see straight for all the red gold and brown. Is this the only thing that we're built on? I know better, though it feels like its all we've got. I've lost my sense of self, though I guess its okay, and my fives and my sixes, they both look the same. You've made it clear to me that you're indifferent about the only four things that mean anything to me. My fives and my sixes look exactly the same, and the last thing that I need is more ambiguity. It’s a gentle annoyance, it’s a tickle in my throat. These silences used to be comfortable, now they're heavy and cold. As if trying to gauge some sort of emotional weather-vane, I ask myself how do you feel? How do you feel? I've put on Diamond Youth, and I'm alone in this house again. Three weeks of moving slow and just going through the motions. I don't want to ask you why. You're already on your way. The best I can do at this point is to throw it all away.
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9. |
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So bite your tongue and I’ll bite mine with silence coming on, when black and white see eye to eye in earnest sunshine. Go to your books, find comfort in self-righteousness. End with learning how to cope. Make sure that you’re you. Feel the blood in your neck. Dark wintry roads with lights turn blue. You’ve been alone before. You’ll have to make do with that answer for tonight. You’ve given me worst in the past - because what if at the end of the day I don’t understand?
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10. |
The Liar Will Perspire
03:39
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I’m not starving, I’m not eating Village Inn. Overreacting, worrying about something else again. A man of extremes, if you know what I mean, its hard to get used to. I’m still on my own side despite the trust I lost in you. I’m 24 years old, but no one sings about that, so I thought I would write this song so everyone could have a song to help them whine about nearing the quarter life, and the way the time runs by. I’m sorry for how I write. It’s no surprise most people don’t prefer the light, the light is far more honest than the dark. Our lives of lies rarely are improved by the light, the light just seems to tear us apart. I’m a coward, I’m not as brave as I could be. Sorry to repeat myself, but it helps me start to see. Lightning always strikes twice. They lied and they know they lied. Something doesn’t seem right.
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11. |
July
04:06
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Where do we go from here? We’re a thousand miles apart. We pretend that we’re still close, so where do we go from here? Tell me there is space for me to stand. Where do I stand with you? This drive is too long, it’s taking all my time. Stuck behind a fit of rage, to get lost in these thoughts of mine. Do we pretend things weren’t said? Do we forget things we’ve done? Do we keep going? Tell me, is there space for me to stand? Where do I stand with you? Do we keep going?
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Doris Day. Provo, Utah
We already decided when we were gonna break up, so don't bother getting rly invested, but here you go
anyway:
Rick--Heart throb
Kyle--Acrobat
Ted--Ska guy
Sandro--Backrubs
Reed--The Purest
Our name is only legally valid pending a court decision from the law suit brought by """Doris Day"""We've been around since, like, 2015, ok, Doris?
... more
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Another perfect release from contemporary emo powerhouse Run for Cover records.
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Bluest Year
by Girl and Her Bad Mood
Girl and Her Bad Mood are a dreampop band from Indonesia who excel at nestling heartbreakingly beautiful melodies amidst silvery guitars.
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v/a The Things That Shaped Us Together
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This outstanding compilation of bands from Indonesia puts a focus on atmospheric pop and rock music, with hooks 20-stories high.
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