1. |
Hey Dan how r u miss u
02:14
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I thought if this could end
somehow I would mend
But I didn’t
Well Of course I didn’t
Your hand came out my mouth
And I bit down
And now your not around
And I miss you
We chose to have our space
But in some ways I feel displaced
Without you
You are the ground
It feels inevitable and true
I want to quell what I give as fuel
How I view myself when I’m with from you
And it’s hard it’s hard
Its hard it’s so
Hard to be around you
But it’s harder Not to
I thought if this could end
somehow I would mend
Because I blamed you
I shouldn’t blame you
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2. |
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I tried to find a way to fix what feels like nature so it’s stuck
Hard to embrace what can not change when it just makes you feel fucked
Some pains they felt they vanished after so long unaddressed
When I’m alone too long I find these feelings where all repressed
Hold my nose and breath and swallow three
My chest bubbles up with escapees
Gulp twice more if body does so please
Then get release
And so the method helps you cope, return to memoized routine
So I am pacified by reminders of times my mind was clean
It’s sure not cure but distraction is the safest in between
Just to get me through this moment, this hour, this day this week
Tap legs, tug hair, smoke and stare at screen
Meditation seems too hard for me
But repetition helps these hard thoughts breathe
Zone out reprieve
So contemplation enters Self flagellation easily
I beat my self up but I’m now speaking metaphysically
the existential dread debilitated with such frequency
So I need coping mechanisms to still leave peacefully
Hiccup cures, and counting games I need
Record breaking swallow-fest indeed
Reasoning fidget behaviour, they read
As hyperbole
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3. |
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I don’t know when I will see you again
Don’t know what it is now Or if we’re still friends
And I’m sure if we did we’d have so much to say
But we’d both be polite And then just walk away
Because I know we wouldn’t like it
The pair of us reminded By the other of the Worst we can be
All growth and shifting mindsets
Undone by seeing someone somehow immediately
Loving scenes played out in my head
All the things that you taught me and all the things that you said
So to be honest I’ve missed you but I’ve pushed it away
Because the hurt that you’ve caused me sticks with me to this day
Well Memories sure
They’re precious that’s true
But I don’t want to make
Any new ones with you
And I’m sure that it’s mutual
To see you as I am now would just be unusual
It would be nice to underline it
I Know we’re both doing fine without the other in our life
I would rather be lethargic than nostalgic
For a time when I liked myself less. Which sadly you have come to represent
And I don’t think my head deserves it
To relive what I have left behind, but seeing you conjures most of time
Like fits of rage in the shower, getting drunk every hour
Becoming perfectly content with being someone you resent
And all the ways we felt we've never talked about
We just whispered all amongst our friends and now we're also losing touch with them
I don’t know when, I’ll see you again
I know I don’t want to, childhood friend
I give your actions more power, it’s unfair but it’s true
So I’d just walk away, I like the distance from you
Yes time away has taught me that I like this distance from you
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4. |
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It’s empathy from friends but it’s pity from the others who accidentally spit on you whilst you’re in the gutter
A chance to make amends? Or polite exchanges? Maybe sometimes call them friends when really they’re just well meaning strangers
Oh, I cauterized
Silly dreams that hurt my mind
Metamorphosize
in reverse
Find myself a canvas swathe
To revert
Those I’d want to see
Too far to spit on me
There a those who where my friends
I may never see again
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5. |
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I want to be a character
In a some fiction I write
So I feel I have authorship
Of my own life
Build myself into concept
To have some control
But subconscious commands me
And so does my soul
What is truly my nature
I try to resist
Hasty thoughts I can conjour
Make me feel sick
Give my ego a premise
Then try to commit
Still can’t run away
From the fact I exist
Sure sometimes it is nice
To be tangible and true
But self-recognition
Is hard to construe
To be content in yourself
Well that’s hard to do
Some days you’d would rather be me
Some days I’d rather be you
And maybe in some ways
That’s why it’s hard to empathise
Your nothing more than character
In someone else’s life
To them you live as the fiction
That You would like to be
But without the control
Over how you’re perceived
You may feel minimised
Or maybe misunderstood
You may feel idealised
whilst undeserving of love
So then discard the opinion
as they really don’t know you
Only to face facts
You don’t know yourself too
Sure sometimes it is nice
To be tangible and true
But self-recognition
Is hard to construe
To be content in yourself
Well that’s hard to do
Some days you’d would rather be me
Some days I’d rather be you
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6. |
Memories Elephant
01:03
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The good old days
The bad old days
Now feel the same
Some numbness comes from growing old
It comes in waves at least I’m told
But Memories elephant still packs a punch
And won’t say goodbye to what hurt us
And all that once healed
No longer feels real
Once its served its purpose
I can get nostalgic for a time
Where I hated being alive
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7. |
Chainmail
02:36
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For some time I’d been pushing down
Self destructive thoughts of mine that might break out
Try to find the turnabout, redirect and build
I can turn the fog to brick if it’s so willed
I don’t want to be
A cause of anxiety
Pain as foundation
Is what I mean by alchemy
Interlinked like chainmail
Protecting me whilst weighing me down
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8. |
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I want to brush my hair some more
But I’m scared it might fall out
I want to paint my face again
But I’m scared that they might shout
I dream of being pretty more than I do of thriving
And dream of being remembered more than I do surviving
I cross and cross and cross these trails and cross recross old paths
Retread through all the footsteps where once we where so sad
It’s nice to revisit its nice to replant
But do I garden trauma, like the spineless sycophant
In busy rooms all there for me I still feel misunderstood
But it’s Ungrateful brain, and chosen pain, to say I feel unloved
I might be often drama king, I may mope and pout and grumble
Even in improving circumstance I still find myself disgruntled
I Dig and dig, dig out my brain with primordial soup spoon
Phantasmagoric memories are slowly detuned
And Endlessly I rewrite all my histories of you
Unstable Causality, breathes into tapestries untrue
And soon Unsure the guilt I feel just comes from my disposition
If these proppian dichotomies are just my own rendition
Some days I feel the hero, other days I feel the villain
Perhaps we are both mutually instigator and the victim
I want to think so fickle
And live just aesthetic life
Because this self analysis
It cuts through like a knife
It slices so mathematically
Into these perfect halves
And the binaries of thinking
Can tear my head apart
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9. |
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The game goose gaggles geese in 3s
Whilst Wearing the fleece of the lone wolf sheep
Fed mostly on feasts of wild bewilderbeasts
In the shadow of ‘c’ where our moons may meet
I am slaying with desperation
For someone else to force me and of course me into what I say is
necessity... When i would happily wait whilst all decpreciates bar a sweltering ego
Feigning some gallent know-how of the inner workings of thef cash cow. Ego ergo sum....
until momentous pretention
Spans past the scope of a self aware joke
And into the frying pan
Now the braggadocio of one-person show
Manifest ever increasing aspect ratio
Feeling better than an aspic glory hole
Half hiding all the sentiments in faux-poetic code
Now whose gonna save my sock with the hole
When the gelatine encases immature turns of phrases
And what I wish to call folk art equivalence
Is really just me speaking of laziness
I won’t be pure
I know I’m contrived
I’ll make bad art
The rest of my life
I’ll take what I can
And Claim it as mine
Recycled intent
In a lazy design
Lay around lazy with enough expectation
That I can somehow do more than Superfluous creations
Say some strangers with their polite congratulations
Lately gravys been tasting different
I’ve got Disparate desires that won’t intertwine
So a belligerent nature soon comes to define
It felt significant, but only for a short amount of time
for now I only want the softest liquorice
Snake in my boot when the pull string worked
Now it’s a flickering gibberish that only just hurts
Slowly find the teenage songs I needed all sounding worse
There was never a performance but all the time to rehearse
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10. |
Crumpledbigskin
03:51
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I want to create
To Maybe find those who relate
But my struggles feel inadequate
And all I make just simulates
What I can’t explain,
And It feels like I feign
these difficulties, opportunistically
To capitalise off my pain
To make art from something difficult
I know it can be healing
But how much do I rely
On self-destructive feelings
Will I better myself if the fuel for the fire
Is demoralising patterns
Is it really constructive
to wait for the next bad thing to happen
Is it inspiration
Is it a way of confronting?
Am I stagnating?
Or am I overcoming?
I feel like sharing this
Is so unbecoming
And though I want to vent
And pay the rent
Perhaps it’s better to do nothing
How much do I undermine
My own and others trauma
When I quickly repurpose it
As sellable melodrama?
Sometimes I doubt my self so much
Are my Tragedies authentic
Or just a creative writing tool
For me to make a buck quick?
Well If someone I love dies
Will i find I start to write
An entire concept album
About how they’re no longer alive?
And will it really be needed
to profit from the process?
Does it come from a need to make art to survive
Or just dramatic excess?
If there’s a fire
And I think I’m gonna die
The more I repeat it
The more it feels like a lie
Well it’s not that bad
Well at least at least at least
At least I didn’t die
So this song could be released
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11. |
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Deep down my true desire
is to make myself an icon by preaching to the choir
Activism purely in double speak
Anti capitalism as a marketing technique
Who cares about praxis, when you’ve got the access
To a crowd who all agree, and still buy cds
And want to hear songs where someone shouts all their beliefs?
Soon i’ll be at Glastonbury and play on the bbc
Do you hear that thunder?
It’s the sound of me speaking over another
It’s the sound of pats til my backs red raw
As i conquer enemies of made of straw
We sing about inclusivity
And toxic masculinity
Whilst me and my boys get down to our underpants
And Push each other to dance
We’ll be a socialist band
Who tweet thank yous to Amazon
Call ourselves feminists on stages
with no women on
And when we are pressured to bring them along
You’ll better bet they’ll be a huge wage gap
I’ll shut my mouth
Don’t touch me
I’ll shut my mouth
Don’t touch me
I’ll shut my mouth
Don’t touch me
I’ll shut my mouth
Center myself in movements when they seem usable
Write songs where we all scream
Black is beautiful
Because as a white man I feel it’s my duty
I figure they’re all waiting for me to reaffirm their beauty
Our press releases like to say its a revolution
Whilst we revel being part of the music institution
Sure sometimes they say we’re virtue signalling
I don’t give a fuck, my wallet’s thickening
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Crywank Manchester, UK
Crywank are a UK based anti-folk band. They formed in Manchester. Jay is from Barnsley, Dan is from Darwen. They mostly write sad songs and have been told they are the worst named band in the country.
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