1. |
Facepalm Emoji
03:49
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How many times?
Don't know why I'm asking really.
The answer will not pull me from this rut
That I've been stuck in nearly
All of my life.
How many times?
Sun doesn't even rise
For my false dawns any longer.
Doesn't want to get knocked down.
Doesn't want to come back stronger.
How many nights?
How many mornings after?
I know that it's no good
To still behave in ways arising from
My adolescent sadness,
Which is now a quarter century long.
So why can't I change?
Can a person even change?
How many times?
All of my life?
How many times?
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2. |
Elliott
03:22
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Me and Elliott after the parade:
The two worst things that god ever made.
But I'm still here in depressive phase.
There's no money to clean the streets these days.
Is it real
How I feel?
I must be able to think myself right.
Just a little more will and a little more fight.
But thoughts have never been my friends,
So it's hard to see how they'll serve my ends
This time.
I'm fine.
Because you've got to be fine.
I've fucked my teeth and I've fucked my gut
And those two things are real enough.
There is no choice but to keep on keeping on
Even though I'd rather be sleeping.
So I'd better keep on with taking the pills
And smoking the weed to manage my ills.
When the band's packed up and the singer's gone,
It's only you who's keeping the lights on.
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3. |
Bird
03:26
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Little bird flew up to the sky.
Turned out it was not the day to die.
So convinced I felt you leave.
Right then I began to grieve.
Now the little bird pecks at the floor.
I'm glad, but I'm braced for what's in store.
Knowing every feeling that I'll feel
When the little bird flies off for real.
You made me a good son.
And I thank you,
Because sometimes that is all I have to cling to.
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4. |
Clearly
04:06
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If you boiled me down what would be left
In that concentrated human mess?
What is the single, central thing?
Maybe smoking weed or riding bikes,
Or some weird music that I like.
These are all ideas that I could bring.
But really, while these are obsessions,
There is no question
That it is you.
So clearly, when my life is condensed,
I only make sense
As one of two.
You're way too big for one small song,
But so many little things go on
That make me smile when they come to mind:
Texi kebab; satsuma swap;
Clamistan when we are hot.
It's in this silliness I find
Some meaning; a reason to be here.
To persevere
When I've had enough.
So maybe you could make a zine
About what's between the two of us.
Because clearly, when my life is condensed,
I only make sense
On the bath bus.
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5. |
Art
03:25
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Art is the things that we made for ourselves.
New in the world 'cos of us,
Our ideas, our effort.
Knock down the white walls and re-write the plaques
Using language that's simple,
Not language that lacks any effort
To include, to explain, to welcome.
Sound waves and forms mediated by minds.
If there is merit, that's for you to decide.
If it moves you, then it's good.
Thank you for being the only one listening.
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6. |
Confidence
03:59
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I wonder if my memory serves me right
When I look back.
Confident, competent;
Can that really be how I began?
Taught in school that we were the chosen ones;
Cream of the crop.
World at our feet,
Captains of industry,
Ready to rise to the top.
With hindsight we were conned.
The world we were supposed to lead
Is the world that is destroying me.
At least I get the irony.
Hard to say if all those expectations
Mean that I now fear the worst in every situation,
Whatever the evidence.
Some times bad things come to pass
But in my head the sense of dread
Engulfs my waning common sense
And I catastrophise.
Must be perfect before I can criticise.
Can't look you in the eyes and ask you to do better,
'Cos I'm always doing worse.
Rad Bobbo knows that this is folly,
But Bad Robbo's on a jolly with my self-esteem
And I don't know when they'll be home.
Elegy for former me.
I have to hope that I can be
A better version of this person.
Imagining how life could be.
I have to hope that I can me
A better version of this person.
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7. |
Scrabble
02:39
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When we were young
We were as close as could be
With twelve years between us.
You still noticed me.
Even when we grew
And went our separate ways,
We'd still meet for football
In our single days.
It'd be good to talk.
Ask you how you feel about the life you've led.
Or ask you want you think about my life instead.
Or talk about our parents 'cos we never did
Except that time I asked about dad
And you shouted at me.
I said something bad,
But I don't know what,
Because in recent times
We don't speak so much.
We lead our separate lives.
It's funny though,
How we communicate
On a Scrabble board
With words that don't relate (in any conscious way)
To what we think or how we feel; our hopes and fears.
But in their whispered subtext, meaning's loud and clear.
Friends will come and go but there's a bond we share.
Don't let's lose touch
When mum is gone.
I'll forfeit my turn
If we carry on.
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8. |
Picture
02:58
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When I feel the greyness coming on
I question even that.
Do I just tell myself I'm wrong?
Self-sabotaging act.
At times when I'm at my worst
I think of a picture of a little boy
Before things took their toll.
I do my best to remember
That I may not be him, but he is me.
My thoughts and actions circle on themselves.
Every day ends like the last.
So I've no choice but to work hard on myself,
But it's tiring doing your best.
At times when I'm at my worst
I think of a picture of a little boy
Before things took their toll.
I do my best to remember
That I may not be him, but he is me.
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9. |
Facepalm Emoji (Reprise)
05:01
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If you're fighting a battle with yourself,
Surely logic dictates that you must also be a winner.
But I am definitely just a fucking loser.
Thinking about what I'm having next
Before I've even finished dinner.
I'm broken.
Fuck.
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Beigelord Bristol, UK
Home-recorded learner guitar from the only food group that matters.
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