1. |
fake ideas.
02:12
|
|||
|
who owns the night?
with your fake ideas
and your plastic flask, inhaled the half
and filled the rest with sprite
but you don't taste any sweeter
to me
just bitter
from the powder blue
dripping from my nose
down to your teeth
3 bar photo op
a gaggle of girls
will fit into the scene
I like the way you stare
I'm interested
but I could do without
your team
who owns the night?
with your fake ideas
and your plastic flask, inhaled the half
and filled the rest with sprite
but you don't taste any sweeter
to me
just bitter
from the powder blue
dripping from my nose
down to your teeth
if you don't cross the line
I can meet you half way
though I am just as able
and easily laid
no need to persuade me
back to your place
bathed in sweat
we'll glisten the morning away
who owns the night?
with your fake ideas
and your plastic flask, inhaled the half
and filled the rest with sprite
but you don't taste any sweeter
to me
just bitter
from the powder blue
dripping from my nose
down to your teeth
|
||||
2. |
lack of notice.
01:51
|
|||
|
I don't mean to come off as a tease
playing with your vein-like strings
twist your tuning pegs
until something happens
and I'll forget my debt
we should have known
never to force the candle lit
I should have warned
these feelings are usually splitting
to even tiny slices
the knife is
gliding through the core
define lack of notice, to focus
on the one thing I adore
however, I'm sorry
but trust me, I'm nothing but another boy.
you are so beautiful
what the fuck is wrong with me?
while you were pining, I was finding
better reasons for me to leave
my friend,
you are my friend
I do hope you'll understand
some things may never be
|
||||
3. |
novella.
02:52
|
|||
|
day by day, my life rolls on
until I roll awake
from a dream, I've been asleep it seems
but none of it seemed fake
I was led through pumpkin patches
cornfields in the maze
I was led to the cemetery gates
and on we walked to the watertower base
oh how I remember this place
there she goes
my situation nowhere
I can feel my heightened hair
and I don't know if she likes my stare
but before you go
we could end this novella
and sell all the rights
for creative supplies
either/or is playing softly
behind the words you speak
as if sadness hides in your upholstery
or tucked beneath your sheets
I could feel the static
in your breath as you spoke
I could fee my ears ringing out
and at once
like a pinch
from this dream I awoke
how everything has led up to now.
there she goes
my situation nowhere
I can feel my heightened hair
and I don't know if she likes my stare
but before you go
we could end this novella
and sell all the rights
for creative supplies
to no surprise
|
||||
sam carp New Hampshire
Sam Carpenter. 25-30. Trying to write songs I like.
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