Categories
Albums

Lyrics for “Ain’t It Terrible?”

Grow Your Hair Out

Is anyone listening? I was sure by now I’d hear something, ’cause I’ve been yelling since my younger days and I’m not sure it suits me.

Everything’s meaningless, yeah I’m sure I could get over it. But I’ve been feeling like it’s all for naught, but I’m not sure it suits me.

Watch me burn it to the ground, one step at a time. I complain, like I have a reason why I’m like this. I feel like such a wimp, just waiting for my ship to set sail.

Am I circling the drain? Can I still compete against the kids who all made the scene. And I’m not sure it suits me.

Is anyone listening? I was sure by now I’d hear something, ’cause I’ve been yelling since my younger days and I’m not sure it suits me.

Oh Susanna

I wish you understood, but that’s still ok. I wish you’d kiss my face, oh yr sick, anyway, I’m listening to everything you say.

I wish you’d sing to me, I love your voice. I wish you’d come with me, if I was given the choice, I’d be with you all the way.

Oh Susanna! The city is too far away, I hope you brought your hiking boots. The trees are always listening, they don’t have very much to do.

I’ll leave my business card, so you’ll have my phone. I’m flying standby, if you wanna come let me know, I’m willing to change my flight.

You’ve been so nice to me, but I’m not sure why if I’m such a well-groomed, sensible guy. Maybe I’m not your type.

Oh Susanna! The city is too far away, I hope you brought your hiking boots. Oh Susanna! The trees are always listening, I’ll talk to them when I can’t talk to you. Oh Susanna! I get it, we just met, but I think we have a good thing going. Oh Susanna! I can see you changing your mind, oh baby you’re just glowing.

Beating, Beating, Beating

I can’t relax. My 5th grade report card says I’m tapping on my desk, had a pocket watch. I had a week before if ended up in the wash, I can break anything, baby anything I want.

I thought we’d die on New Years Eve, 1999. I watched TV, terrified the world would cease to be be be. Nostalgia’s a weapon; it’s aimed right at me.

But my heart keeps beating, beating, beating like a kick drum in my chest, I’ll never be as calm as I want.

No photos exist of me as a goth applying eyeliner in the gym. And I can’t go back to the Target in Stafford, I can hear the cuffs go clack, clack, clack. I cried in the backseat, the cops cut me some slack.

Mom, I’m sorry I stayed out late, let me off the hook, what can I say? I’ll never be as calm as I want.

I eat terribly, like the way I live won’t be the thing that kills me. And I can’t resist, temptation it swirls around all in my head, head, head, but I need to start being honest before it goes unsaid.

We Have Choices

Sad and lost and found and bewildered, just another day in the life. The machines have won and we can’t compete for all the spoils have been won.

Baby, it’s not your fault, but lately I’ve been counting my flaws for you.

I have a crush on the boy who wakes up in the morning; running circles through the streets of our home town. No time for leisure, no, there are procedures, and they want me to flip the switch.

Baby, it’s not your fault, but lately I’ve been counting my flaws for you. All the words are cheapening, the bells have tolled, I hear them ring. And I know that you cannot wait for me. I know that you cannot wait for me.

Leave the lights on, the generator buzzing makes me feel so calm. Leave the lights on, as I run anxious circles through the streets of my hometown and I think… Leave me alone, does anyone remember how it felt to be young?

There’s a war coming, and I’ll just keep strumming ’til my words have any meaning. The machines have won and we can’t compete for everything has been lost.

Empty Sleepover

I’ve been given everything I wanted since I was sworn in, bouncing in her belly, running in Biloxi, in the heat, all for me.

I am the private kind, looking for the sign. I thought I was lost, but turns out I was just 18. Hiding in the bushes, hoping no one watches.

Think of the all ways I’ve gotten where I am. Lotteries I never played, but I live like the winnings anyway.

It sounds like laughter from the empty sleepover, when I crawled in bed with all my little things. It’s not death-wish, it’s a nightmare that’s careless, unwelcome and oppressive, but me to deal with.

I was with you, what a futile gesture with a stoned departure, I was just looking for the muse I needed. Saying/believing.

I am the lonely kind, cheerful with sigh. I was a skeptic, but now I’m looking for blessings. Watch this reduced down, see the nonsense pumped out.

All Purpose Machine

I sing because I stutter. I stutter when I’m anxious. I’m anxious because I ask too many questions.

The questions are boring and the answers aren’t sticking and I’m worried that others are all tired of me and the way that I act. But it’s not an act, it’s the actual way I live.

But this is me. An all purpose machine, two thumbs and a heart that beats. This is me. Like the homecoming queen, looking back it feels more like a dream.

I’m lame and indecisive. I get tired and easily frightened. And I lie about myself more than you’d believe.

It’s unfair I’m never thinking of you, no matter what you do, I’m too lost in myself. It’s unfair how many people I’ve had to hurt to get to get by.

How Odd, How Suspect

Last night in my brain, and I can’t explain all the way things go. No rulers, no Gods, no time, I forgot to kiss you goodbye. See you on the other side.

I heard a voice, cried out, I rejoiced, it was a song from my youth. So beautiful, lovely and so pure were her words to me.

I’ve come to expect, how odd and how suspect are the words that we say to ourselves. Take pride in what you own, but learn how to let go, you’ll be gone/dead before long like all of us.

No stars under shallow surf and our small home, for what it’s worth, this everything to me.

Use your ears and don’t compromise, there’s a whole word to see.

Which part is me? The soul or the body? Where’s the seamless transition between? Happy, you might never be, be content for tomorrow we will see how things unfold. Let go.

Holy Ghost

You stutter when you’re lying or when you talk about yourself. People call you quiet, you don’t have anything to say, cause if you speak you might miss something beautiful, quiet on their lips.

Your father is a preacher back in Hudsonville. Your mom was a singer, I swear she sounded just like you.

You won’t dare speak the words, what if someone else heard the sound of your voice and your feeling unearthed, you have questions, no answers, you fall on your knees and pray.

I tried my best, but I guess my best wasn’t good enough. This sin I’m living in has a hold on me. Holy Ghost, set me free.

They call you Rachel, but you’re thinking of changing your name. To something more like you, at least something you can claim, but hold your breath if you think they might call you by the name you want, or they’ll even still love you when you fall from the flock and you fall from grace, you’ll change your name and you’ll fall on your face, you’ll fall from the flock, and you fall from grace, you’ll change your name and you’ll fall on your face, you’ll fall from the flock, and you fall from grace, you’ll change your name and you’ll fall on your face, you’ll fall from the flock, and you fall from grace, you’ll change your name and you’ll fall on your face, you’ll hail SATAN like that song by the mountain goats, the most beautiful hymn you’ve even known, when you don’t know where you’ll go.

Holy Ghost, set me free.

Dance Party

Oh it’s a dance dance party at a dance dance club, everybody get on the floor and move your butt.

Go talk to the guy at the end of the bar, he’ll make you thing that you’ll go far in a relationship that’ll mean something and make you feel real lucky. But really he’s just looking for tail and the best way to make the final sale on your body like a commodity to satisfy his needs.

Oh it’s a dance, dance party at a dance dance club, everybody get on the floor and move your butt.

There’s a guy throwing up in the bathroom because he did some bad cocaine. He can’t afford to feel this crazy, what if his friends think that he’s lame. He can’t believe his life has come to this, he really wants to begin again, but he does another line because detox is a bitch.

Oh it’s a dance, dance party at a dance dance club, everybody get on the floor and move your butt.

This guy’s really nice, he’s bought you drinks all night, I bet he thinks he thinks you’re beautiful in every way and not just another lay. You watch him drop something in your glass, the bouncer fucking kicks his ass and throws him in the street like the garbage he is.

Oh it’s a dance, dance party at a dance dance club, everybody get on the floor and move your butt.

[redacted]

First Person View

Hey baby, aren’t you looking for someone to fulfill your daydreams, listen up I’m everything you’ve been searching for. I’m your golden eagle, wide and surely circling and watching, falling it love with everyone I meet.

I’m an addict what a catch, storm’s-a-brewing, I’m stressed. You won’t know till the sirens wail; I won’t admit I’ll tuck my tail and I’ll just lie. Tell me when the fun stops, baby, I’m your guy I’m yelling and fighting, and I don’t love you when I’m not at ease.

And it’s all gonna hurt come Sunday morning. And it’s all gonna hurt by Sunday morning. Drive with the windows open, I wanna taste the city. Let it ebb and flow in my lungs and in my puffed cheeks.

This town ain’t as big as I remember, but it’s hard to tell; I only remember it together.

Real People Jobs

Past seven days I’ve working a little faster than I thought, found the focus, found the interest, sit down, get to work.

Getting better at repressing all the things that I have learned, oh please hold your concern, I’ve started smoking again.

Don’t expect that you will see me when you come from home from work, I’ll be up early slamming shots at the Starbucks, another tick on my ever-growing list of these todos, all that matters is I’m being productive

I cannot confirm my own suspicions. I will not wait up for you.

I’m afraid of death and I’m afraid that it’ll take me in my sleep, but life is not for the weak, I’m feeling brave again.

I’m taking calls throughout the weekend cause I’m part of this team, baby it’s not what it seems, it’s just the boss again. If you don’t know what you want, try and find something to do. It’ll drown out the fear that you’ve failed again. Who needs a life, who needs a family, who needs anything. I need return on investment, not a wedding ring.

I cannot confirm my own suspicions. Hold my hand, and let me disappoint you. Hold my hand, and watch me get distracted.

You know it’s cheaper when we don’t go out and don’t do anything that’s why I think it’s better that we just stay at home. We need our real people jobs to remind us who we are; we are workers, we are parents and we are building the world.

While I go out and make God, you can watch it tear us apart, don’t do so needy, my people they trust me. I’ll never stop, I’ll never stop giving my all and I’ll die like the rest, nameless and disappointed.

Lucy Rose

Lucy Rose, you don’t know how beautiful this world will be to you, if only you knew how lucky we are.

We’re ready to bring you home, just a few days longer. Since I was young, always wanted to be a father.

Lucy Rose, how much you’ve grown when I wasn’t watching. I’m grateful for this; this tiny gift sleeping in my arms. There are things I won’t forget, like the first time we met. You looked in my eyes and I kept staring.

Lucy Rose, I don’t know the person you’ll become, but I’m here for you; not that I have to, but it’s all I know.

Sometimes you’ll swing and you’ll miss, and you won’t know the answer. You’ll steer the ship and we’ll be your anchor. I promise you this, there’s beauty in the silence, cause you’re as big as you’re gonna get, but you’re still growing.

Bunny Ears

I may have sold my soul more times than I can repay the salesman as he’s rendering my bill and praying I’ll quit. Mind over matter or some bullshit.

I can’t decide if I’m a Christian or an Atheist, a Buddhist or some spiritual weirdo in an office. Turn on the salt lamp, air is toxic.

Everyone wants a way out. Everyone wants a way out of the shit they’re dealing with. What’s the point in changing symptoms?

I hope there isn’t any afterlife cause God seems to have a really fucked up sense of humor, I can’t take it. Leave me bloodless, bloated, and naked.

Approaching enlightenment in generation-lately, addicted to social indications of meaning. Rendering bunny ears on paintings.

A Healthy Appetite

Walk in, shake hands with the stranger. Sign the paper, don’t read until the end. All my life, I’ve felt this way, I can’t be sure if this is me or if I’m choosing it, have I lost my goddamned mind?

He asked if I’m feeling a little hungry, I stammer “no” because the blood-loss makes me woozy. It was all innocent until I showed up, I’ll be used for furniture, and eaten for days, cops to case the place, it’s a little too late to get off his plate

He says, “Honey, I know you’re scared. You’re safe, you’re in my hands.”

You’ve been waiting, you’ve been staying up for so long, for a chance to talk to me. I’ve been waiting, I’ve been waiting I’ve been staying up so long, freaking out uncomfortably, is it worth it do I wanna stick it out, try to call the cops or call his bluff, I’ve been waiting up so long.

A handful of pills and all his cheap liquor. A breathless chest and an ax in my back. It’s all a joke, a violent comedy, and, a little confusing in this blood soaked sink. Countdown baby, count 123, oh say goodbye to me.

Honey, I know you’re still there. Wasn’t it worth it? This is pure pleasure, my dear.

One of the Lucky Ones

I’m here all alone, waiting for the phone to ring off the hook and bring me where I belong, I’m rightly accused, but maybe you have it wrong, maybe you have it wrong, maybe you have it wrong.

I’m not a monster, but one lives within me. I am not a sinner and I pray god’ll set me free. I am not a beggar, but I’ll get down on my knees, I’m begging you pretty please, baby pretty please

Oh when the saints come in, oh you know I’ll be marching. When the judgement comes, I’ll be one of the lucky ones.

I did a bad thing, but haven’t we all. It was secret part of me; one I can’t control. I’m an upstanding gentleman except for this one thing, just this one thing, don’t blame me.

Oh when the saints come in, well you know I’ll be marching. When the judgement comes, I’ll be one of the lucky ones.

The Oregon Trail

We set off for new lands, me and the family. A couple wagon wheels and a little food. Our boots strapped to our feet.

We’ve got so many miles of desert and a while together, I’ll see you in the Wasatch mountains. An abundance of caution, hope no one steals our oxen, I’ll see you in the Wasatch mountains. Every night though we ache from the toil of the day; the walamit valley doesn’t seem so far away. Hit the road and if God allows, we’ll be safe in the Wasatch mountains.

Beyond the fir and pine, somewhere there’s a goldmine. And palm trees for us, watch for snakes down in the brush.

Zombae

Sign away your dreams, stop being so tired of everything, again it’s all in your head, you’re unsatisfied, oh once again you’re alone, so it seems, no one can understand a thing you’re seen it’s all murky green, in a nightgown complaining finally

Maybe you’ve come undone, your beard is full of crumbs, shuffling money away, ready for some other beautiful day, you’re blind to what you’ve drank, you’ll be laughing to the bank, call a shovel a spade, and wait for another beautiful day.

Call a parade for all the beautiful work you’ve made up in flames you forgot to pay the man in the tollbooth anyway, it’s worn all wrong, you got a failing grade and your songs are boring, and contorting into a monster you can’t begin to feed.

Maybe you’ve come undone, your beard is full of crumbs, shuffling money away, ready for some other beautiful day, you’re blind to what you’ve drank, you’ll be laughing to the bank, call a shovel a spade and wait for another beautiful day.

You’re groaning into the weekend; learning to hide all your secrets; Monday, Monday, morning, millionaire at forty, working your youth away.

My Baby

Oh my baby loves me so, she don’t know what I’ve been thinking, oh my baby loves me so. She don’t know me at all; watch the tears, it’s time I said my piece. Please don’t leave me, promise you’ll see that we can still kiss with my sharp teeth.

Oh my baby loves me so, she don’t know that I’ve been changing with every full moon, into a loon with a very fuzzy snout. I’ll watch the eyebrows raise over your eyes. If there’s one thing, I’m hoping and praying is that you’ve secretly had a thing for hairy guys. Ahoooooooooooooooo.

I’ll let you tie me up for just the night, so I don’t go and take a bite out of you, honey baby, sorry I’m such a fright!

Crystal’s Birthday Party

I remember the day we met, you were wearing a purple dress at Crystal’s birthday party. We talked for hours on the internet, through the night into morning when I’d see you after-school, baby I was fool, in love with you; what bliss.

Baby, is this crazy how much I miss you when I am alone. Tell me you’re the one for me, we’ll be together forever, forever evermore.

When I finally broke it off, you were driving home in your car, it was pouring rain outside. I ignored your calls and your texts too in the cowardly way that 17 year olds do and then I went off to school, I was awful, I was cruel, and I’d understand if you hate me. I think our whole high school class would agree.

Baby, I feel crazy when I’m with you but not when I’m alone. Sorry, this is maybe the worst thing I’ve ever said and I said over the phone.

A Happy Afterlife

I’m sitting under neon lights, pondering an afterlife. All my lyrics seem so fake, but I will sing them anyway. I’m hoping for a better day, when all my fears get tossed away. I’m praying for a brighter light to bring me through the darkest nights.

I can’t abide by time, this life is so wild, this time is mine, if I’m so inclined I’ll wake up and do all the things I said I would. Am I losing sight of having a happy afterlife?

All the world’s a fashion show, I always want to up and go. My shoes have mud, my shirts have holes, go ahead plug your noise.

I can’t abide by time, this life is so wild, this time is mine, if I’m so inclined I’ll wake up and do all the things I said I would. Am I losing sight of having a happy afterlife?

Life is Strange

It’s a failure of imagination. Happy birthday to you, Wanda June. All the best, gone too soon. Oh Yankee Rose, you’re the only I know. Searching below, the undertow, hoping to find someone to hold.

You might think that I’m insane, or a little misbehaved.

A#1, always on the run, marking your home with arrows and notes for other travelers on the road. Oh life is strange, we all wish we knew the damage we if we could go back and change.

The End

The end of year one, the battle’s done, but who’s to blame for all this carnage? Daily briefs on terrible things, I’m required by belief to say we’re sinking.

But if I’m not happy, who will make me? It’s all relatively frightening.

The end of everything that’s bad for me, I release myself from belly of the beast. Are you growing stronger with everyone I meet, are you everything I need or am I sinking?

But if I’m not happy what will save me? It’s my problem. It’s me.

I think I’m great, but do you? I feel the pressure is mounting. I better know what to do when this thing goes off, you’ll be the first to know.

But if you’re not listening who will know me? That’s just absolutely frightening.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.