1. |
Punish Me, Phoebe
04:28
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It's like I'm on an island.
Sure, I could swim and hope for a sail.
Sure, I could Crusoe myself a life.
But what I just lay down
in the sun, in the sand and rot?
Sure, I'd like to find the strength to like myself,
but not yet, not yet.
Sure, you make me feel so bad Pheobe.
Why do you think I keep coming, keep coming…
Pheobe, you make me feel so, so, so, so
bad, yeah do it again and again and again and a—
Pheobe, you make me feel so, so, so, so
bad, come on do it again and again and again and
again and again and a—
Another day where I forgot to change.
I really am getting older.
Another chance, and I did the same.
I keep coming, keep coming…
Pheobe, play that song again,
it makes me feel nothing good will come.
Pheobe, you make me feel so, so, so, so
bad, come on do it again and again and again and a—
Pheobe, you make me feel so, so, so, so
bad, come on do it again and again and again and a—
Punish me, Phoebe.
Punish me, Phoebe.
I could play another song,
but not yet, not today.
I could throw the record out,
but not yet, not today.
I could feel good for once,
but not yet, not today.
I could like myself for once,
but not yet, not today.
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2. |
Discord
04:34
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Tell me what you want to do,
(anything, god, please, anything).
Invent a place if you have to
(you son of a bitch).
Tell me to close my eyes
(and imagine somewhere I don’t already know).
I'd bless you even for that,
(you son of a bitch).
Tell me, there must be somewhere to go.
It can't be, there's really nowhere to go.
We've traced these steps for 30 years.
I can't trace them again.
I don't know, tell me where can we go.
Don't you think we'd know if there was anything there?
We've seen every greasy, goddamn inch
of this town, and there's nothing.
I don't so much have
(memories of these streets)
as that they're haunted
(by the dullest ghosts that ever died).
I don't dare to eat a sandwich
(in this town).
I've eaten it a thousand times
(and nothing ever happened once, not at all).
Tell me, there must be somewhere to go.
It can't be there's really nowhere to go.
I’ve traced these steps for 30 fucking years.
I can't trace them again.
I don't know, tell me where can we go.
Don't you think we'd know if there was anything there?
We've seen every greasy, goddamn inch
of this town, and there's nothing.
Let's embrace tradition.
Let's do the old circuit.
Maybe we'll come out on the other side,
come to hate these streets so much we love them.
Or maybe we'll get so bored that we’ll literally die.
Either way, it's better than nothing,
because it is that or nothing.
If I have to see that fucking place one more time –
Just one more time, I swear to god –
I’ll raze this city to the ground.
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3. |
Burial Song
05:39
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You were like a king.
A king, of the queerest round table ever sat,
but a king;
and when you fell,
and you did fall,
it was like a color went out of the world.
You weren't very good,
but you were a kind of great,
and you brought a kind of law
to your strange little tribe.
You are not a god (no, no, no),
but you might have died for
all our youthful sins. (Don't let it)
get to your head.
You are not a star (no, no, no),
but you might have led us
out of the desert. (Don't let it)
get to your head.
You are not a god, no no,
but you might have made us
in your own image. (Don't let it)
get to your head.
You are not a star (no, no, no),
but you might have led us
out of the desert. (Don't let it)
get to your head.
Could you have gone another way?
Sometimes you feel like clearest view of fate I've had.
What would you have even been like?
I try to imagine you, 34, your madness tamed to a glow.
Where are you? Who do you love? What are you doing?
Is it impossible to imagine
because it's been so long?
Or is it because
it was never going to…
You are not a god (no, no, no),
but you might have died for
all our youthful sins. (Don't let it)
get to your head.
You are not a star (no, no, no),
but you might have led us
out of the desert. (Don't let it)
get to your head.
You are not a god, no no,
but you might have made us
in your own image. (Don't let it)
get to your head.
You are not a star (no, no, no),
but you might have led us
out of the desert. (Don't let it)
get to your head.
You aren't a star.
You aren't a god.
You are barely even here.
You aren't a star.
You aren't a god.
You are barely even alive.
When you were here, when you were ours,
God, you were something.
and after all is said and done,
that's still something.
Goodbye old friend, this is your burial song.
It's not the first, but with some luck, it'll be the last.
We'll sing it once and then inter it with the rest of you.
But if you should want to shake the dirt off
and try for one more testament,
do me a favor, and leave me out of it.
Do me a favor, and leave me out of it.
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Hallo Los Angeles, California
Are you experiencing moods? Are you having feelings again?
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