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Compersion 02:18
But anyways, before I leave I wanted to say, 'look where you please but you will not find a better friend than yourself.' Nowadays, it's fairly apparent, I suffer from severe disenchantment. I've made my bed with a nice pillow and no truth. But really it's ok. Call me tomorrow. Put it into perspective and there's no one to blame. It's just one of those sins that comes with the moment. It's out of our hands and over our heads, and that's great... But where is the comfort? And what is the sure thing? Now home is a luxury, I crawl up and sink in my love. See, heaven's a let-down and god is exhausting. Us pseudo-intellectuals say this is why we need our vices. We're doomed to be always in love with the fragile things, chronically low on my gas and batteries while I'm battling the itch to be great. So this is the comfort, and this is the heart ache. Lesson learned as animals, everything else seems arbitrary.
I lied about my major to a stranger on the bus. I'm pretty sure I'm aging poorly and I surely peaked too early. I'm about to greet my bitter end, craving the estrogen and minimum comfort. But I can't afford it. My head's in Oregon, my feet in California. I prefer my chest pains over my daily headaches. I've outgrown most that I've known, and I'm scared to reminisce, so I believe in nothing, and never felt this uncertain of anything in my life. All panic aside, I actually kinda like it. My canvas is the Void. I paint meaning on the meaningless all damn day. But that gets lonesome, and therein lies your right to occupy my bedroom. I promise that I won't make trouble I'll just listen. Tell me about your family, tell me your role models, and tell me how your caught up working towards the wrong goals. And tell me do you notice this blistering bliss apparent in our thoughts? Maybe you don't, but I do. And after it I'm a sucker feeling sorry for everyone. Cheer up Paradise. I won't let it drain the passion from our lives. Quit your pity sighs. Oh I've got this funny feeling we'll be fine.
Fine Thanks 01:55
Far out of our element, And begging faulty wisemen to make sense of it. My elders say, "It's sad we've failed you But now the planets in your hands" I'm not so sure the plan, while I'm sitting, thinking... Barred out in the bonus room, completely unconcerned with global destitute Is this the proper man for your heirlooms? All the answers come in masks, depending who you ask That's exactly why I don't. Last night I, Drunk texted my brother, to tell him that we're both fucked but I love him Still he relates to my empty feeling inside. Wrote my ex lover, forgive her for finding faith in another Still she elates my half that knows all is fine. I swear I'm not afraid of the world, I'm just afraid of the bank And all this progress I don't understand Oh if I know all that's precious to me, then the rest is just cake I'm not opposed to living in my van.
Holy Cannoli 02:19
My perfect pin-up come off the wall I ditched my buds for her bedroom but I swear it's not my fault I think these feelings must be holy This could be love, sorry love. I'd find her drunk in the street, kiss the puke off of her cheek, put her to bed. And in the morning my doll remembers nothing at all I never said. But now our summer's bending two different ways. We talk like every other day but now the texts are getting shorter. Gotta sneak away to talk on the phone I kinda mumble so nobody else knows. The conversations are sweet, real nice but nothing too deep, not like before. Still say I love you, but now the words are forced from our mouths, kind of a bore. Like we're not fun anymore. But now my pillows smell like you in the morning. I've got your stain stuck in my sheets and I'm like holy pfft cannoli. I've got plenty competition I know. She'll find a new man to carry her home. He's probably cooler than me, sleeps right where I used to sleep, right by her door. And in the morning they kiss, say I've never felt like this before.
Caterpillars 01:47
Caterpillars in the cracks of my head Fucked up but functioning fine I'm still unsure if your dead Still tell your jokes like their mine. Here in the Void, we're scraping meaning from our made up meta-beliefs like band-aids off the post-ironic blues we battle. Well, the funeral proved that I still can't cry. The closest I get is little puddles in my eyes. And the eerie eulogy was the very best part it went, 'oh well whatever'. So now I've started a cult, to validate faith. I write my own prayers now to my own set of saints. It keeps your feet in the curl, and at the very least, grace makes your stay in this world much more comfortable. Here me now, Saint Dana, you've a lot of explaining to do. Without dreams right in front of your face it seems you feel a lot more real than I do.
Longer, My nails are getting longer. Regardless of the roles I'm here to play or the Strange Euphoria that lines the day. Will my petty problems ever realize there's a code of conduct to spoiling my day. It's sort of rude to barge in unexplained. My genes turned out to be quite appalling. I'm 22 and slightly balding. White elephants from the Unknown, pick up your phone your Calling's calling, and he longs to find you a Fate that's riddled by a gut feeling too vague. And I met a foe, better known, as the Tides of Infidelity. I would never show, she'd never know, how much it still fucks with me. I rake in every moment, drain the passion, drip a tear. Figure we're declining like Romans, bet your ass I'm shifting gears and taking... all my pillows, my thoughts, my failures, the four letter word she awoke just to tell me, and my mug, my lighter, my books on a flight to a clean and well lighted place to settle down.
Here I sit, so obviously stoned While my drunk mouth theories twirl off your sympathetic head Good grace if only when my plans they come undone And my miracles are slow Will you still love me then? Good grace if only....
This is the western coast of everything I know, the fatal flaw, the coming doom. This is why you breathe funny when you try to fall asleep, why you feel alone at your parents' home, tar in your throat, shining most everyone you know. Forced to play along with our hegemonic host Hiding my opinions in plain colored clothes Just waiting til their bored of their game So you can sit them down, shut them up, call their bluff, and tell them why you came. I've stopped defending all the powers that be, Cutting the leashes of our loans, Defriending corporatocracy, but I don't know what to tell him, but ever since I met him I pretend that I'm not home. I'm selling ads on the windows of my soul And privatizing all the good deeds I bestow I'm selling my old journals praying that they can keep in tact my savings That's exactly why I'm saying that I don't believe I can love anymore. No, I don't believe I can love anymore. Honest I've lost my head or I'm pleased to be used to doubting the hope all this is for the better. At least your hanging with me, at the end of our rope.
I'm not always tired, but I'm usually peopled-out. It won't be long til I move on from this and gracefully bow out. It don't take much to get along, I don't need much to keep me strong, I don't talk much, I'm better off hiding where you can find me, At my window, every morning. Driving for days, still exploring. The remnants of my five year plan are shorter than my attention span. I'm most always bluffing still my conscience weighs nothing more than a ghost. My love for adventure makes me a flakey friend at best. Profoundly sad to admit, I'll never get better than this. Cause in the funny way I see, it's better if I leave before I hit my peak or my good luck dies. Won't go to bed until I relearn to sleep on my side. And that's the point of driving for days, never knowing. Still stuck in a full body yawn, a moment of calm, I'm standing face to face with a parody of myself hoping he don't mind me asking, "Why do you hate so much? How did you chip your tooth? How are you so sure of your purpose and when did you know what's best for you? And why do you care so much? What are you trying to prove? Won't you wake me from my daydream when you leave for something new. I wanna come too."
White lies to hide me at home, while I'm sad in the mornings. Oh I can be a hermit you know I'll reply when the weather gets warmer. Here's to Miss Everything's Fine, eating full bowls of kale and sipping her wine. Even she agrees, apathy comes with the times So rest assured that nothing matters. It's always a struggle, you learn to grin and bear it. I wonder if we could memorize our thoughts, put them into songs, would they ever really change much? My old fears showed up and left, I've basically conformed and lost my edge. I imagine this will always be complicated, My wanderlust may never be satiated. I will try to find some sort of peace in it all, Revise my beliefs on our walks on alberta I won't tell you when I'm full and down to go home Cause our talks on alberta are the reason I'm not spiritually suffocating, not fake smiling. Better things will come if we never stop trying, that's what they told me but I don't really buy it. I'll play dumb and you can play it cool.
Chamomile 02:34
'Long as it's raining, you might as well stay. Sit on the carpet, sippin on chamomile, tell me your day. I know it's hard but, at least try to explain You woke up feeling older, disenchanted with the music you play Catastrophically older, numb to the magic of holidays. Well I'll tell you I woke up euphoric, barely retaining the Unified Theory of Basically Everything Wandered all day, with no one to tell I'm afraid if I sleep that I might not remember it. It'll send me back over the falls But what with the heart break and healing I can't say it's anyone's fault Oh well I know your tired, and losing your faith One last quest to find love, prove to us all its still worth the wait Sit by bodies of water, and confide in the rain I used to be scared, begging for answers or truths I could hold But trust me, it's moments like this that remind me there's no need to know.
Auntie Earth 03:43
Now as our poor young lungs deflate, I'll admit I've gotten older Mellowed out, chatting up those I used to hate. The feeling that we're lost will always fade I present no explanation Can't expect our tired patience to satiate for long And therein lies a truth we can sip when we want Disciples of the flow we can float anywhere If ever there's a drought I've listed the puddles proven to better coax the divine out from within. Remember there's more road, and places to go, and patterns to contemplate, more people to fornicate And remember there's a lot of good omens supplying the proof that our life is the best joke ever told Remember its a joke, and leave it alone. Let go and try to be always abiding Remember if there's one good reason for dying, the sweet silver lining Through you she lives on. And therein lies a coast we can see through the fog An island in our thoughts can be heaven on earth I swear to god if I haven't wandered all over then I haven't done something that's worth telling at all. After the hell that you've been through, what could I even say? Our Auntie Earth will take us in, She awaits our battered shells I'll try to lay as close as I can to you But while we're breathing I should tell you From the depths of the Void I will love you for your growing crows feet And fully adore the contradictions that we live As all i can give.


Recorded from Fall 2013 to Spring 2014 in Kokomo, Kris's bonus room, Walters's parent's garage, a UCSB classroom, and Grandma Bunny's tool shed by Walter, Kris, Jake, and Milk.


released July 21, 2014


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Walter Etc. Ventura, California

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

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