I hate all the familiar faces of yours I know you've worn, after an empty promise or story that I haven't heard before. We're kindred spirits so don't mind if I wallow through being torn to bits and through laughing fits or while I'm coughing up a storm.
Your living room never felt so fitting, somewhere I'm sure it's written down on your disheveled coffee table. I've never said these words out loud. Will we ever get out of this groove in routine? You tell me.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Is this where I fall down again and can I get back up? Come sell me some silence, I can't stand the gears turning in my head. What if this doesn't exist and we're already dead?
You're living room never felt so fitting, somewhere I'm sure it's written down on your disheveled coffee table. I've never said these words out loud.
Will we ever get out of this groove in routine? 'Cause I can't recognize the face that's staring back at me.
(I never thought, I never thought I'd be relieved to leave)
Epitaph Records will be matching all pre-orders of “Always Foreign” with a donation to The Immigrant Defense Project. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 28, 2017