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Always Leaving

by Walter Etc.

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Um 02:38
They found me lost, but not panicked Floating belly up in a pool of disenchantment I could only shrug, nothing to tell 'em The truth is corny and too hollow to sink with I'm completely opinionless Darling I'm better now think things have finally settled down and something about the weather has me pleasantly curled up and lonely So I welcome all the rain as sedatives for me to dull down anything left of the grandiose visions I drag around Must be the guilt from the privilege I was born and why my favorite songs don't sound great anymore.
Ah here lies all hope of being normal, all chance of an epic fate bussing tables in Lake Tahoe, eating scraps off stranger's plates Ah won't you cure me? Take me to your bug out location off the grid I'll tell you how I scarred my pinkies and we'll await armageddon Or take a long nap... Then teach me to write well and clean my lungs watch the love of my life sewing dresses on fireflies go and get me some real drugs to paint my blood all while the thighs of women have lost their church and the hands of men are shaking in the search Prepare for the worst your melanoma just called, said how 'bout spritzers tomorrow? Cause all agree we're chomping at the bit you're little demon girl, she's turned into a saint and she's a lady now and it's your job to tell her about all the bliss and decadence straight to hell, might as well clock out now and rail that cinnamon (Cause all agree to some degree in pig latin or laymen's terms, the cops knocked someone soon might let them in. They'll find our strawberry cough, they'll find the secret voice that shepherds towards the droughts in our thoughts until it snows, listen i know you know this, i'm losing it) Remember to clean your lungs, always Ah here lies a crumbled Famous Amos, a sorry birthday cake forgotten what your name is pardon me, my mistake I took a long nap and woke up a buss boy.
Boomer Etc. 02:32
Boomer, look at me back living with my parents making an appearance as a guest in my highschool bed bored with myself and predictable depression my same old chord progressions but my lyrics were better back then Oh well my fault it will only get worse with age But I will make art til it kills me Gotta sneak away for a smoke old friends seem formal, not stoked either you lost your sense of humor or they dont get your jokes they all quit smoking these days in fact, your the last one chiefed a lonely little spliff on the front porch It's a lousy mess of adulthood looking for a job on craigslist like I should Got my resume just today as spruced up with lies cause i dont want to work in retail for the rest of my life, no.... Oh well my fault i can always sell lemonade but i will make art til it kills me Boomer your my last good friend Your too soon old, too short on time Rest your achy bones in your bed enjoy your final curtsy of life Your death will be a real heartbreaker I assume its only natural I guess No less a bummer Keep in good health and keep up with your peers Gotta reinvent yourself, don't be the redundant adjective Nobody cares about your travels so you sound like your bragging about the countries you've been in but I can recall a day when you knew my middle name and we mostly felt the same now that kind of magic can only exist in the mothballs of memory and your eyes roll at me like "go tell it to your family dog" Cause Boomer your my last good friend I can tell you can tell I'm leaving again Just hang in there a few more months I swear I'll make it worth it for you A belly rub to end all the pain now close your eyes, if this is goodbye just know i love you.
I didn't try my hardest to build a life I'm trapped into I didn't pour my heart out for a couple of good reviews I'm ok but, I don't think I can handle this I know, I'm sorry to leave but your family was nice I had a talk with your dad, gave me some decent advice he said you can't go around being so sincere if you wanna take a stab at this music career and so me and Esperanza are going to find a way to make sense of this somewhere less perilous where our backcountry therapist is Because your positive vibes are poison arrows sometimes Your words are lakes that my mind can't swim across Your love's a generous storm, my tent is flattered but tired What can I do but zip up, block it out? To hear the beautiful songs in my head I could pay for press or go find the little Walden of the 395 Quit playing shows and start showing up randomly in the driveways of friends of mine I'm ok but, I don't think you can plan for this I head you try to explain me in the kitchen last night I know I'm hard to defend, but it's cute that you tried I never felt like I had anything to prove but I don't want to be a source of embarrassment for you and so me and big Baloo are taking measures to make sure that we make sense of this some healthy heretics on our backcountry therapist quest Because it's plausible I'm naturally flawed by design and thus my escape from all I used to love It's not happiness that I crave, it's being content with my days spent completely anonymous and alone I'd trade the bulk of my life to stay here.
Thought about it all day been meaning to tell you it's too late to explain too soon to make sense of it all I can offer is this belated goodbye. Just imagine if you're always coming and going purposely misplaced and not sure where home is but always get homesick in the cradle of night. See, if your heart had a backdoor I'd sure slip away Cowardly, but it's my go-to Seems like every so-long needs some profound thing to say but honest, there's nothing to tell you... Except... I hope you enjoy this mess and what you love leads you to success and when you think of me now and then forgive your friend who's always leaving. Sometimes I think distance is perfect cause it prolongs our romanticized state in all this and sometimes I really wanna call you but for some reason shy away because I know you'd be glad, and that makes me sad. So I'll show up on some cloudy day and we'll make a million pancakes and we'll talk like its been no time at all, still young, dumb, impressionable and you've finished Innocents Abroad and you set me up with your extra cot and I keep my stories to a minimum, cause you're sick of them but I bet you would have loved the highlands of Guatemala, Eurail Belgium to Spain, backpacking Yosemite Utila on a full moon dive... our falling out was no one's but mine. See, there's this ache in my chest and it won't go away doctor says I pulled a muscle But I think it's some residue from what I coundn't so I carved in the wall of a hostel I wrote... I hope you enjoy this mess and what you love leads you to success and when you think of me now and then forgive your friend who's always leaving And maybe I'm not cut out for all this maybe I want more than life can give But i hope you know it pains me to no end to be your friend who's always leaving.


Recorded in May 2016 in Kris's cozy living room in Eugene, OR. Then a little bit more in the Fishbowl basement and from Toast's room in NorCal.

Performed by Walter, Kris, Russell, and Toast
Produced and mixed by Toast and Walter
Mastered by Justin Weis


released January 4, 2017


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Walter Etc. Ventura, California

The story of Walter being written through a bunch of albums....

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