BL027: self​-​titled

by Big Machine

/
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1.
02:26
2.
00:55
3.
02:13
4.
01:15
5.
01:17
6.
01:09
7.
01:28

credits

released April 9, 2015

tags

license

all rights reserved
Track Name: 1
As if any of this was ever gonna work out.
What the fuck was I even thinking.
I know what I was thinking.
Better than them. Better than you.
Or anyone.
And I still do. I still do.
Track Name: 2
In this crematorium waiting room we all awkwardly share,
pushing and shoving for a little space.
I still feel I don't fit in.
Cause I'd rather rot slowly than burn bright.
Cause what is bright anyway?
You don't look so bright to me at all.
Track Name: 3
No contrast. Just greys. Grey faces, grey areas,
morals settling down, radical apathy.
And though I'm trying not to, I still judge everyone.
(It gets harder to forgive and I'm running out of friends to let me down. )
But I let myself down first.
And I'll let myself down last.
Ground away teeth and sad eyes.
Shoulders down and walking in uncertain straight lines.
No drive. No life. No thirst. No joy.
Stop it all please and rewind.
As if any of this could be changed with a second go.
Track Name: 4
As if any of you could ever understand what I meant.
With no time left for other than your own shit.
But I want attention, maybe even help.
And I'm prepared to listen to your boring issues, if I get my fix of worth in return.
The meaning of life, the meaning of lies, my lies.
Track Name: 5
My trusted concave shield.
Please shout at it, hit it, hate it.
Then I'll know it worked.
Not a defence, just a sneaky attack.
And I already changed my mind.
I don't need your help or anyone's.
As if any of you could ever understand what I want.
Track Name: 6
As it starts so it ends. So it carries on.
As it was so it is. Like it's never been.
As if any of this crap would make any sense.
To any of you. But I trust it will. It might.
Maybe I'm right.
Track Name: 7
Some of the grey seems to have gone now.
Like I may have been trying to get rid of it somehow.
There is room for more disappointment now, I freed some space in the drawer.
And I guess this is as hopeful as I can get these days.
I'm talking to you as a friend, and you can do the same too.
Just please don't do it now, not in person.
Write it in a song. As if I'll ever listen to it.