1. |
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Yeah it’s
Love in the time of algorithms
Love in the time atomizing us
Love in the time of reaching out
Finding community somehow
Love in the time of algorithms
Love in the time of global capitalism
Still it’s love, no matter the fight
No matter the carnage or digitized plight
It’s about love
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2. |
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I’m feeling empty
After the month that we’ve been through
Yeah I’m feeling empty
Without you
Seen that turn
It’s coming ‘round
But I fall to failure
As it’s going down
And it’s easier to stress about going too
The last best thing I’ve got feeling
Hold it tight, don’t wait for me
In our time of monsters
Struggling for the new
I start sinking
Into this knotting, nauseous banyan tree
As snowflakes never set
Out my window down on 2nd Avenue
Take time to carry me through these years
With seeds of chaos sprouting betwixt my ears
We’ll finally end up wrong
But I’ll beat you there before too long
Out in a conscious haze of nowhere
Press it onto paper
Carve it into rock
Imprint it on the clouds
To wring out something at all
Plodding along, I’ve fallen apart
And it’s never coming back
The third thing to come out and gather back
But it gets hard to remember it
When you’re living your life for a good CV
It gets hard to remember it
With half-worn sweaters piling around me
It gets hard to remember it
So look close in the mirror as I say
In four hours I’ll be four hours away
I’ve fallen in I’ve fallen in I've fallen in I've fallen in I've fallen in I've fallen in I've fallen in I've fallen in
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3. |
Misanthropic Days
02:20
|
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For a while look right at you
Then scan around this old room
Do I care about any of this?
Does any of this even matter?
I fell down twice, but got worse
Still on this couch with no words
Do I care about any of this?
Does any of this even matter?
I’m fucking over this shit
I’m fucking over this shit
I’m fucking over this shit
Throw it out and start it all over
I’m not an afraid person
Never been an afraid person
Fuck that be your own person
What else could even matter?
I’m fucking over this shit
I’m fucking over this shit
I’m fucking over this shit
Throw it out and start it all over
Caught in a misanthropic daze
Building to misanthropic days
And months and years and lifetimes
What’s done is done, it’s our time
These months and years and lifetimes
What’s done is done, it’s our time
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4. |
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Sit back now silently
Just listening to the near misses
Ball one, ball two, foul ball, and you
Find my eyes from across the room
Sending out our signals
Crucibles and dogwhistles
Shibboleths from enchantresses
On walkie channel IV fixes
Woah, yeah we're never going back again
Now we're speaking different languages
Genie out the bottle
Now he's glued down to your couch
Inhaling bong rips, eating pop tarts
Throwing up right in your open mouth
And you try to scheme him back inside
Like a massive flying cockroach
Rolled up magazines and broom bristles
Cup and paper Rube Goldbergs
Woah, yeah we're never going back again
Now we're speaking different languages
Will you ever hold down a job again?
Will you ever make any more friends?
Will you ever let your mind relax and
Find a sense of satisfaction?
Woah, yeah we're never going back again
Now we're speaking different languages
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5. |
E-girl Robespierre
02:54
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No recollection of March through May
But I know we were here via our streaming history
So let's start printing it out and carve memes into brick
So there'll be evidence of us beyond our cosmic imprints
While right now we're circling and spiraling and running out of steam
Fractals caught in our mazes and running out of steam
So we'll live in our pods and eat our bugs
But they'll be gluten free and taste like Chick-fil-A sauce
And we'll lament no one's murdered Clarence Thomas yet
And how it means our society's got no juice left
As we crave some e-girl Robespierre
Kickstarting our Space Gulag
With her OnlyFans and her bright blue hair
As we talk about love
Yeah we'll talk about anything at all
And everything beyond our walls
And we'll talk on by
And pretend like it's not everything
And pretend like it's authentic me
And pretend that I ain't scared
And pretend that it ain't worth a thing
Oh it ain't worth a thing
But we're here, and I know
That I've finally found the cost of alienating my soul
Far beyond where I'd go
We'll sing "get those eyes away from me"
Oh, get those words away from me tonight
Away from me tonight
Away from me tonight
Wait for me tonight
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Feel Loudly New York, New York
madman campfire folkpunk
feelloudly.com
very old songs: nattyward.bandcamp.com
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