1. |
bird
03:45
|
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|
baby bird is on the ground
pick him up put him in the pound
desire turns me into knots
heart to stomach to mouth and box
i can't believe joanna wrote a song about you
i think she said something like, baby bird
smashing into shut doors and glass windows
smashing all the walls and blowing up my phone
smashing all the walls and wrecking my home
baby bird is in the pound
pick him up take him on the town
i've got a girl back home
she's just skin and bones
|
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2. |
99 miles
04:13
|
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|
gas station coffee
she really really loves me
ticky tacky feeling
my head's in the ground
slow it down
slow it down
99 miles per hour
slow it down
99 miles per hour
slow it down
she’s back home waiting
she’s chomping at the bit
i’m a dog who sneaks in
thinks a possum's a gift
ain't that a bitch
99 miles per hour
slow it down
99 miles per hour
slow it down
99 hours to go
oh baby take it slow
|
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3. |
||||
|
if you don't like me
why'd you call me on the phone
if you can't say no, that's pitiful
there's a man in the sky
with a stop watch on your breath
you're telling me that sits right with you
at night, with a pillow under your head
i've been dreaming of catching loose dogs
they don't wanna come
it's not my job
|
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4. |
city heat
00:56
|
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|
city heat is made for something slipping away from me
and the music's just for heartbreak, read it and weep
i could love something easier but that's not the point
humidity's descending and it's getting to my joints
it takes so little to fill me with a heavy fog
sun beats down and suddenly everything's my fucking job
i could love something easier but that's not the point
oil, water, sinner, anoint
|
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5. |
feastin
03:55
|
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|
feastin' on scraps gets old pretty fast
except it didn't when i loved you for two whole years
you know it's bad again
cause i have anything to say
sprinting
laughing
beer is splashing
as we run up to the distant but nearing
"hey, wait...
"cough count keep me awake!"
feastin' on scraps
there ain't nothin' better than what you can't have
the n belongs in lower case
like your smell belongs in my bed
my body is a machine
that makes poems from all men
like i'm supposed to get drunk
to hide a sinking feeling
my heart is a machine
that turns people into villains
feastin' on scraps
there ain't nothin' better than what you can't have
i promised that i'd die
if we ever fucked again
and how much of my love
is misplaced loneliness
|
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6. |
cannot, what the fuck
02:14
|
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|
a dog named cannot
i'm afraid of my thoughts
and i hate the way there's nothing
that weighs lightly on my mind
it's just across the street
god is playing tricks on me
i played the stupid game
always win the dumbest prize
what the fuck is going on here
|
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7. |
don't don't don't don't
04:17
|
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