( or, a select few of his songs, anyway )
feel free to modify, combine, or chop up as needed; doesnât need to be taken as dialogue
cw for implied self-harm
Tempted just to make an ugly scene.
Listen, Iâm your friend, donât quote me, but not a friend worth noting â yes, please donât ever note me as your friend.
Who says we have cold hearts?
Acting out our old parts.
When Iâm open and afraidâ
Sorry âbout that, sorry 'bout things that Iâve said; always let it get in my way.
Tell me what your point is in defence.
Listen, I donât really know you, and I donât think I want to, but I think I can fake it if you can.
Letâs agree thereâs no need.
Letâs just keep pretending to be friends.
Wake up in the morning, wake up in the evening, wake up when you want to, 'cause no oneâs really watching.
Wish you had something to say about it.
But we all have problems; weâre all having problems, and we all got something to say.
When I came down the dawn poured into me.
I shook âem up, the walls came crumbling.
My fists kept trembling with these salty wounds
I built this cardboard neighborhoodâs disgrace.
But I ascend and serve my feverish need within the confines of such chemistry.
Itâs the way I see everything I need.
Let this be our little secret.
No one needs to know weâre feeling.
But I feel alive and I feel it in me; up and up I keep on climbing.
The rush above me to oblivion.
Oh have you ever felt so goddamn strong?
How come it takes some people so damn long?
Youâve caused all this pain, and you proudly shame your whole familyâs name.
Mother I can tell what youâve been thinking, staring at the stars on your ceiling, thinking once there was a power that you were wielding.
And now Iâve hit the mark!
And I cannot help but ignore the people staring at my scars.
And everything is going to the beat. And everything is going to the beat. And everything is goingâ
And you said, it was like fire around the brim, burning solid, burning thin the burning rim.
Like stars burning holes right through the dark.
Flicking fire like saltwater into my eyes.
You were one inch from the edge of this bed, I dragged you back, a sleepyhead.
They couldnât think of something to say the day you burst, with all their lions, with all their might and all their thirst; they crowd your bedroom like some thoughts wearing thin, against the walls, against your rules, against your skin.
My beard grew down to the floor and out through the doors of your eyes, begonia skies like a sleepyhead.
theartofmadeline
andulkaphoto
2087
jbbartram-illu
discoholicmusic
yousharknotpass
jacobvanloon
stormborns
turnnoffyourmind
