1. |
Overture
00:28
|
|||
2. |
Down to Die
02:42
|
|||
It's getting harder to get outta bed these days,
and my friends, they all agree with me, my friends all say the same thing.
We're all nothings trying to accomplish something,
and the impossibility is staggering, the mere implication overwhelming.
What does that say about our mental condition,
or the situation that we're living in:
when none of us even wanna live?
I know everyone's got problems, got problems of their own,
and everybody still think's they've got it harder than most, the other day in the car I said:
"Hey, guys, who's down to die? I'm driving this car off a fucking bridge."
No one in the car protested, no one in the car said shit.
What does their silence say?
What does that say about our mental condition,
or the situation that we're living in:
when none of us even wanna live?
And the one thing we're asking is who's down to die?
None of this is going anywhere, so why even try?
And without a second thought, so fucking tired of this place
I lay down in the ocean, and the water drowns my face.
I can't see the point
and we're all getting tired of this shit.
|
||||
3. |
New Song #2
01:17
|
|||
I don't want anything to do with anyone,
I'm not interested in going out and having fun,
I just wanna sit in my bedroom and waste away.
Stare at my wall for about a year,
til' my brain comes sliding out my ears,
I don't give a shit, I'm giving up on all of it,
fuck everything today.
Because I see through every last one of you motherfuckers.
I know exactly what it takes to make every last one of you grin.
I don't want anything to do with anyone else,
I just wanna fucking hang out by myself.
I just wanna sit in my bedroom and waste away.
Play my guitar for about ten years,
til' some better songs come flying at your ears.
I don't give a shit, I'm giving up on all of it,
fuck everyone today.
Because I see through every last one of you motherfuckers.
I know exactly what it takes to make every last one of you grin.
|
||||
4. |
Eyeballs
03:03
|
|||
My fucking eyeballs burn.
Bloodshot like they hate me.
Bright red, like I hate me,
like I hate everybody.
I've been drowning in my own thoughts,
obsessing over petty shit,
not realizing what I've got;
and that's just the half of it.
Somehow not sleeping for hours
turned into not sleeping for days,
it's so fucked up how things
turn out when the best laid plans go astray.
I've been reading lots of books,
but somehow skipping every word,
and mostly everything I hear's
the dumbest thing I've ever heard.
And maybe I'm just fucked up,
is there something wrong with me?
Lost a little of myself
in my search for honesty.
I don't know who I am,
crisis of identity.
I look to the mirror for answers,
all that's staring back is me.
And I'm choking on my words tonight.
And I'm holding on with all my strength.
Regaining the will to fight.
'Cause for the first time in a long time,
I don't give a fuck tonight.
Defeat goes down bitter,
so mix it up with whiskey.
Sip on that shit for a while
and wait for realization to hit me.
Stumble out of my room,
crack my head open on the floor,
watch my thoughts slide out of my skull,
and overanalyze some more.
Like maybe I'm the one that fucked up,
maybe it's something I did?
Haven't felt right with myself
since I was a little kid.
A day without self-sabotage?
Oh, no, god forbid.
I don't have any answers,
as if I ever did...
And I'm choking on my words tonight.
And I'm holding on with all my strength.
Regaining the will to fight.
'Cause for the first time in a long time,
I don't give a fuck tonight.
|
||||
5. |
Davenport
02:46
|
|||
Nights like these I really hate myself,
and I mean that when I say it.
I've never meant anything more.
All will and repose out the window with the milk of the dragon.
A literal rendition of jumping on the bandwagon,
here we go.
In a room full of my relatives,
I've never related to anyone less.
And as my face connects with the floor,
I find it's who I relate to best.
'Cause it's nice to finally talk to somebody
literally on my level.
My thoughts are whirling, my stomach's curling,
and somehow I've never felt better.
How many times can I fuck up
before I inevitably have to grow up?
But I guess the real question is
how did I get like this?
What happened to you?
What are you going to do?
How many times can I fuck up
before I inevitably have to grow up?
But I guess the real question is
how did I get like this?
|
Streaming and Download help
If you like Common Hate, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp