1. |
how to scare dogs
02:25
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i'm the walking stain on the photograph you got from yr ex-lover
how we spoke about the future and we got caught by yr mother
'i'm a nice guy' i thought awkwardly like i thought it'd get me somewhere.
if i'm so nice, why do i expect a prize?
i've got a buncha tiny cuts on my hands.
i've got a buncha tiny cuts on my fingers.
yr fingers are disastrous. i'm always skipping classes
to write songs about the space between yr eyes,
and how its only several centimeters from the space
that i keep safe in case i ever need to rest mine.
i've got a buncha tiny cuts on my hands.
i've got a buncha tiny cuts on my fingers.
i've got a whole buncha blood on my hands.
i've got a buncha tiny knives in my fingers.
i wanna kiss you like a comet will destroy our fucking city.
i wanna be the star that swallows everything left.
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2. |
sgdremix
04:52
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she's got dead cells and dead eyes, i wonder which are easier to revive.
the conversation floats on i fall behind like every friday night.
the rest telegraph their moves, sloppy setups for a second kiss.
she leaves the room like her lunch leaves her stomach.
stranger love from stranger's lips.
parties don't end
half way in,
no matter how bad she wants them to.
her self=concious wrists
crack to a bad play list,
in the beirut room.
and she's got 'live free or die' on her thigh,
but i've got a tv screen, with the all-seeing-eye on mine.
parties don't end
half way in,
but no one'll notice if you go outside,
lay down and die alone
broken bones meet broken hearts, she's got so many reasons to leave
but cosmic hope puts its hand on her shoulder as her nose begins to bleed
half-hearted hugs on the porch, decay neon by dawn.
her favorite song in the background, she left her voicemail notifications on
but no body tells them to call.
your heart is firework with a short fuse, i've [only] got so many fingers to lose
i've got marks on my hands but if he's coming back, well then that's cool whatever, man.
a firework with a short fuse, i've been counting the days until you
and your hospital hangovers tear us apart with the house party fires that you start.
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3. |
new harm
04:15
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there's atmosphere in stereos i will wait for you as far as you know i--
i will be there when you get home.
so many carburetors on display. a hand is held it feels real far away--
to match the still increasing distance between each others face.
and emily and robert visit you, but lately you stay locked up in yr room--
only come out once a day after waking up at noon.
and i
still
keep carving labels
into places where you chill.
while you
were like bandages
to me.
and i,
won't find you breathing in the corner.
won't call up hospitals or coroners.
when the worms come to eat yr eyes.
and i,
won't find you bloated in indifference.
can you be cool and still religious?
or can i?
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eat yr parents New York
eat yr parents
eat yr parents
eat yr parents
eat yr parents
eat yr parents
eat yr
parents
eat yr parents
eat yr parents
(pls don't)
book me: dylannakiely@gmail.com
... more
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