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about
this song is about the fall of 2016, and about me ghosting a friend & feeling bad about it. tbh I should've shared it back when I wrote it three years ago. but my perfectionism (and also my shifting thoughts about the whole situation) got in the way and I kept editing and editing & eventually wound up pretty close to where I started. I'm still not fully satisfied with it but it's become such a big intimidating mountain looming in the landscape of my songwriting hobby and I'd rather just climb the damn thing already. so here it is, as close to finished as it ever was or will be.
thanks to Ellee for helping push me to just finish this already, as well as some mixing & mastering. thanks to Ben & Ashley for having nice things to say when I awkwardly showed each of them these lyrics like 2 years ago. and thanks to a few particular records that helped me through that time in 2016: tigers jaw - "sprit desire EP", formerly bodies - "throwback", slow bullet - "still close enough to go back", & june gloom - "fake problems".
lyrics
lyrics:
I don't remember what I said when I last spoke to you in person, and the only clue I had I buried with neon hatchets in silver snow.
but all that means is I deleted all my texts, 'cause I've been burning candles at both ends over sacred scrolls like owl spirits outside of time. but it's a ritualistic spell, like an amber turtle shell, and my Viking lightship pyre was caught in the gravity well of Alexandria Prime.
I'm dreading I'll pass you by on a mystic sidewalk while I am half asleep and spinning Crystal Vision, shoulders straining toward the snow. but my head bends with the boughs, nocturnal anyhow, and I'm powerless, incensed, and burnt-out, but you deserve to know: I'm sorry and I don't hate you, I just needed a better reason to hate myself.
And in the dead of night, half-dead, I half-hope to catch you half-moon gazing out on your widow's walk, but you're probably sleeping sound. while I'm mercurial beneath Orion, captive bound and double-ironed tears in rain, I'm wreathed in chains, a barrow-wight of burial mounds. (but it's not that profound)
So I'll give up haunting the library, lumber home moody, hear rumbling snow plows, hum Death Cab for Cutie, scrape spark-shower padlocks to tumbledown Washburn, at 4 in the morning alone.
and I know I can't ghostwrite your timbre, but I'd hate to see you corrade your September self. It's no one's fault I'm bitter, just rocket science crucified my mental health.
credits
released June 18, 2020
guitar, lyrics & vocals - me
synth, mixing & mastering - Ellee Grim (www.instagram.com/elleegrim/)
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