1. |
I'd Say I'm...
00:56
|
|||
|
These bones will finally break when I get too tired.
Found at the bottom of the lake,
raised in a cabin fire.
If I could say anything,
I’d say “I’m not fine.”
These bones will finally break,
Man, I’m just so tired.
|
||||
2. |
Floating Again
02:43
|
|||
|
For the first time in the new year
I can breathe again.
I hope that it sticks til I
find my way back to your house.
If it’s a bad thing I can take that
but I won’t inhale.
I’m killing myself just to
Wake up and do it all again.
I’m finding new ways to say
“Hey, dear, I’m floating again”
A constant reminder
that I am what my dad made me.
What my mom made me.
Right now I’m finding out
what it takes to feel let down.
How to take that and swallow it down.
It’s a process, but I digress.
I’m shaping a town of stone.
It’s a new age, a singing bowl.
It’s a belly ache, a cosmic drone.
Wait, there’s that sound again.
Staying still now, there’s a bad man,
he’s stealing my wage.
I hope that he dies soon.
How else will I pay back my rent?
I’m taking a long walk, try to cool off,
does that make much sense?
My god, it’s so hot out
and I can’t seem to find some space.
Go play with that new bone. You don’t like that?
Well that’s fine today.
You wake up tomorrow
It’s the same bone just bathed in red.
Right now I’m finding out
what it takes to feel let down.
How to take that and swallow it down.
It’s a process, but I digress.
I’m shaping a town of stone.
It’s a new age, a singing bowl.
It’s a belly ache, a cosmic drone.
Wait, there’s that sound again.
|
||||
3. |
Coasting, Mostly
03:17
|
|||
|
You feel so small,
it almost feels like you’re not there at all.
In a crowded cage,
where bigger men are dying everyday.
And if I could take
the place of every asshole in this state.
Well, the sounds that I would make
would shake and elevate
all the fragments that I hate
would burst and then fade.
It sounds so dumb
but I’m coasting on the hope that you’ll come
and you’ll take the shape
of a house that I can lay in and save.
Oh, and the sounds that you would make
would shake and elevate
all the fragments that you hate
would burst and then fade.
Until then I’m bashing my head against the wall.
You feel so small,
it almost feels like you’re not there at all.
|
||||
4. |
Shifting Blame
04:02
|
|||
|
The sun’s finally coming out.
Hanging phosphorus beneath the clouds.
There are reasons for give and take,
but these days all I do is shake.
When it gets so dark,
the movement starts.
When it gets so dark,
that’s when the movement starts.
Calm down. Everyone’s got doubts.
Sinking through payment stubs.
Defaulting on lifelong dues.
Neglecting the ones you love,
to kill time with something new.
It feels so rough,
and you lose your cool.
Oh, god, it feels so rough,
as it’s crashing through
all that you built for truth.
Calm down. Everyone’s got doubts.
There are nights where I can’t sleep,
digesting on empty,
resenting the ending
for coaxing out feeling.
We take what we can’t keep
and tear out the heartbeat,
while hedge funds are stealing
medicinal healing.
Calm down. Everyone’s got doubts.
It’s a nominal shift in blame
for everything, everyday.
|
||||
5. |
Not Fine
03:40
|
|||
|
I’m learning to speak in tongues again.
I’m burning the candle at both ends.
I swear I can hear it in the whispers in town,
“That building was purged,
now it’s coming down.”
If I could breathe again,
I swear I would breathe again,
I swear I would.
The sound of the drums is deafening.
I can’t take your questions at this time.
Alive in the sense that I’m not dead.
I think I would say that I’m not fine.
My money’s all burned up or tucked away.
I’m pulling out down to make some headspace.
It sounds like a waste but it’s all I’ve found.
The pain in my neck will keep spinning around.
If I could breathe again,
I swear I would breathe again,
I swear I would.
I’m learning to speak in tongues again.
I’m burning the candle at both ends.
I swear I can hear it in the whispers in town,
“That building was purged,
now it’s coming down.”
|
||||
6. |
Better Now
03:43
|
|||
|
This is growth,
erased or overthrown.
Spend ten years yearning for
places to desist.
Shot grip,
and a bad bout of pointing out
words as meaningless.
I’m sorry all I wanna do is speak but I can’t.
(Are you better now?)
These nights all I wanna do is sleep but I can’t
(Are you better now?)
In all this space
exists a creature comfort lift.
Warm air informed by pointing fingertips.
Bent wrist,
and a heartfelt reminder I should be over this.
I’m sorry all I wanna do is speak but I can’t.
(Are you better now?)
These nights all I wanna do is sleep but I can’t
(Are you better now?)
Signal to noise, a shortwave radio hiss.
Conflicting waveforms where synchrony exists.
Through all the static we settled on this:
These are the paths we take
to dance around new bliss.
Are you better now?
That I’m not around?
|
||||
7. |
Dwindling
04:01
|
|||
|
I only dream of dwindling numbers.
On occasion a good one sends them high.
When daylight pries open my eyelids,
every dream I ever have is a lie.
Working, wondering what to live for.
Staring at capacity for a change.
Leaders based in exploitation,
and we’re drowning above minimum wage.
Staving off our deductibles.
Gambling quality of life.
Teaching yourself electricity.
The danger in just getting by.
Every nightmare they think up is alive.
Every dream I ever have is a lie.
|
||||
8. |
Finding Time
02:43
|
|||
|
Avoid disaster in a hive mind.
Embrace the comfort,
stand for nothing in a time of decline.
It’s conflicting memos and timelines,
where the worst part of your week
becomes exactly what you hoped it would be.
You were too young to remember
the ways they twisted you and shaped you
into everything the world would become
cold and dark with a lampshade
to hold back the signal,
just hold back the signal.
Or fall like some fucked up comet
and dissolve like you always wanted us to fall.
It’s hard to remember, after all,
we’re just finding time,
please find some time.
Correcting fear with a nightlight.
Is this the way you hoped to live
or is it safe to say you settled for it?
Concluding space is a dead right.
I mean if this is what we’ve got,
then what the fuck is there for anyone else?
If only time was a constant,
and we could safely comprehend how much is left
before we choke on our tongues.
I would beg for a lampshade
to block out the signal.
Please block out the signal.
Or fall like some fucked up comet
and dissolve like you always wanted us to fall.
It’s hard to remember, after all,
we’re just finding time,
please find some time.
Pray God fears we
callous our hands upon
your backs for all your days.
|
||||
9. |
Invading Space
03:53
|
|||
|
Invading space for all it’s worth.
And cooling off against the earth.
I’m calmer now than I was then.
In far off space, I’ll rest my head.
We’re killing God and starting wars.
The only things that we’re good for.
Fracking oil to tame the poor.
Dissolving hope and keeping score.
I think we are too far gone.
Embrace your son, he’s gone offshore.
Soon to be our nation’s chore.
Ingesting loans we can’t afford.
In twenty years we’ll get some more.
I think we are too far gone.
|
||||
10. |
Closing Doors
04:51
|
|||
|
Come home to the sound of bending stone,
distilled to a proof uncomfortable.
Caught between the shapes of the family pain.
It’s the cornerstone you need.
It’s half controlled release.
Oh what it did to me
to be pruned from the family tree,
oh what it did to me.
Please pick up.
I think I’m in need of some love.
Selective touch,
a far reach from your warm hugs.
You press your hands into my temples.
Seconds turn minutes to hours to never again.
It was the sound of closing doors,
in search of something more.
It was the sound of closing doors.
It feels like I only look back
to remember the score.
These days are painfully long,
I should know myself more.
You told me,
”These are the strings that connect our bones” but I’m sure
mistakes were made, we were misplaced,
our mothers were warned.
I’ll be found
slowly washing ashore.
Burn down the house,
make a fire to keep me warm.
If I could say anything,
I don’t know anymore.
I’m supposed to go,
but I won’t.
|
||||
If you like Barely Civil, you may also like:
supported by 27 fans who also own “I'd Say I'm Not Fine”
this album is one of my favourites records of 2022.
go to album
i became birds
by Home Is Where
supported by 24 fans who also own “I'd Say I'm Not Fine”
IM GONNA SCREAM I LOVE THIS ALBUM
go to album
supported by 21 fans who also own “I'd Say I'm Not Fine”
I got to listen to some of these songs live during Origami Angel's tour in 2022, which was a really cool experience. I loved them enough to buy a CD!!!
go to album
This may be Nate Kinsella's "dad record," but the array of experimental sounds and soulful songs on offer evidence a new creative peak.
go to album
The Gainesville emo band work through grief and mental illness with honest, empathetic hooks and dynamic guitars.
go to album
The Bees Knees: A Compilation For Dan
by Various
The proceeds of this extensive compilation of punk and rock go towards the healthcare costs of beloved musician Dan Wild-Beesley.
go to album
supported by 21 fans who also own “I'd Say I'm Not Fine”
Coming from a visceral Summer Megalith, this album is the definition of maturity. Containing both cool riffs/licks and atmospheres, the repeating lines through the songs remind us how well the concept was developed into this final (master)piece
go to album
