1. |
Aimlessly Waiting
01:29
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I've been waiting for the settling of these ashes I've been swimming in
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2. |
Circling the Drain
02:52
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I still feel fifteen sometimes,
struggling to realise any sense that my life might make,
do we ever really grow up? or just pretend to have our shit together when we don't
feels like I'm losing it again, feels like I'm circling the drain,
feels like I'm losing it again, that's if I had it to begin with,
stuck to my bed this morning, feel wrecked and boring
and like I'm turning invisible,
I always feel defeated when I end up like this,
I just find it so hard to avoid,
feels like I'm losing it again, feels like I'm circling the drain,
feels like I'm losing it again, that's if I had it to begin with,
how can progress be made when you're cut at the knees?
is adulthood something completely illusionary?
or is it just something that I'll never reach?
either way don't force it just let me be,
struggling to find so called self stability,
trying to find my way in a fucked and confusing place,
there's no doubt we need to move at our own pace,
headed for the plug hole with the rest of the human race
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3. |
Threads
02:45
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there's not enough time to spend,
and everything's just a bunch of disorganised threads,
they're tangling, meaning there's no way to keep track of them
there's a finite number of steps we can take,
we place them whilst trying to embrace,
that the wasted ground we've been walking on is all we have to grow our futures from
I can't seem to get a grip, on these fleeting moments,
they slip through my fingers, out of my reach
waking up doesn't excite me, it reminds me of what's to come,
so I'll keep chasing away these days, out of necessity
there's too much static in the messages,
we can't decipher any meaning from them,
our attempts are getting desperate,
so we'll give up and push on through
waking up doesn't excite me, it reminds me of what's to come,
so I'll keep chasing away these days, out of necessity
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4. |
Daylight Saving Time
03:02
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there's a lump in my throat, I can't cough it up,
I'm walking home it's dark and only five o'clock,
is this all that my life is?
just a pattern of weeks and weekends,
that always has to start again,
never giving us a chance to catch our breath,
that always has to start again,
never giving us a chance to catch our breath,
what happens when you've got none left?
relief flashes momentarily, I reach out to grasp it,
it escapes me,
are we all part of this desperate design,
that makes my guts churn and grind
that always has to start again,
never giving us a chance to catch our breath,
that always has to start again,
never giving us a chance to catch our breath,
what happens when you've got none left?
I'm not cut out for this,
I need something more balanced,
that won't produce reactions like panicked breath and lost sense of direction
it always has to start again
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5. |
Perfectionist
03:40
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I'm a perfectionist, but you'd never guess,
I don't let my tongue loose long enough,
before my last words out I cut it off,
and I scream and I scream,
internally concede what's now routine defeat,
to the stranger living inside of me,
and I hope that saying things could be much worse will soon stop carrying the weight it's been for weeks it seems, so I can clear my head,
and try an actual remedy for my alarming lack of energy,
it's that or giving up instead
we try to move forward,
but each time we're met with a hard truth,
we're not done with tripping ourselves up
in an attempt to find a sense of well spent time,
I've been writing to-do lists that I know I'll never finish,
but I know that I'm to blame, my faults have never changed,
I'm trying hard to live with them
I'll let you know the day they catch up to me
I'm a perfectionist, with broken wrists, I can't hold up my end of the deal I made with my hands tied,
I'm just trying to decide how to explain them away as anomalies,
each time, you see through my white lies
I need to stop selling myself short, I need to get myself in gear,
that much is clear,
I'm sick of apathetic sentiments, that are wearing my motivation thin
in an attempt to find a sense of well spent time,
I've been writing to-do lists that I know I'll never finish,
but I know that I'm to blame, my faults have never changed,
I'm trying hard to live with them
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6. |
Apathy
03:08
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Apathy has changed me,
I'm not better I'm not worse but I'm not the same,
nothingness fixates me,
it balances my luck my guilt my shame,
I don't know who I was or who I'm trying to be,
it makes no fucking sense,
then again what do I know about anything?
crawling out my bed to bear my soul,
it's cut and sold, it feels so cold,
I'm doing my best with what I can hold,
to fight the coming comatose
I'm sick of staying up all night, sleeping through the days,
I've got no time to put to use and so much of it to waste
I've got things that need doing,
I've got things that need done,
there's the things I'm pursuing,
and others that are no fun,
when I feel life improving often I've forgotten one,
I'll keep on removing them, as hard as it's proving
Apathy has changed me,
I'm not better I'm not worse but I'm not the same,
nothingness fixates me,
it balances my luck my guilt my shame,
I'm sick of staying up all night, sleeping through the days,
I've got no time to put to use, I've got so much of it to waste
I don't know who I was or who I'm trying to be,
it makes no fucking sense,
then again what do I know about anything?
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7. |
Times Have Changed
03:21
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Where did you go?
I've been noticing your absence while I'm sitting here alone,
we spent so long with hazy eyes and splitting sides,
naive to how it would end up
we change and drift apart with time,
none of us are perfectly aligned,
but I guess that's just the way it goes
we can't rely on anyone to stick around, except ourselves,
cause we will be in our own bodies til the day we die,
no matter how hard we might try
I'm trying to feel comfortable in my own skin,
but it clings too tight some nights,
I've found that isolation can bring to light,
the unconscious corners of your mind
relationships need built, but they can't define you,
without a sense of self you're just living for someone else
we can't rely on anyone to stick around, except ourselves,
cause we will be in our own bodies til the day we die,
no matter how hard we might try
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8. |
Reactions
00:58
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Why can't I focus on anything?
trapped in an aimless pattern of waiting,
I'm trying to find productive ways to get through the days,
if you can explain why I'm failing take the liberty,
cause I feel sick and drained and none of this makes sense to me
I can't depend on my brain state,
to consistently keep me protected,
from what shouldn't hurt me,
there's discontent in my veins,
while it's busy circling I can't see the good in things,
that's if I ever did
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9. |
900
02:25
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It's come around again,
I'm being wrenched up and spat out,
my times up I'm run down,
routine's return, the wind sinks its teeth in,
I am met by the same sinking feeling
the end of the year marks the start of the cycle,
time tabled panic puts knots in my brain,
I appreciate my limited options,
what kind of consolation is that?
walking down a one way path,
aimlessly dragging our feet,
with no way to know what's ahead of us,
time moves slow when you don't need it to,
time moves fast when you want it to stick around
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10. |
Jury Lies
04:19
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It's time once again to admit,
that my downfall is down to my own stagnation,
and while I attempt to resist pulling the pin,
temptation exists and it's born of frustration
and so, where do I go from here?
aimlessly waiting for my path to become clear,
the jury is out on this one,
I'm losing myself to my own confusion, lack of conviction and indecision
I'm crying over the cruel rule book I tore up,
as hard as I try there's no way to get by without,
looking inside it drives my head to oblivion,
tires resistance to extinction,
I've only just realised the mess I'm in
and so, where do I go from here?
I'm aimlessly waiting for my path to become clear,
the jury is out on this one,
I'm losing myself to my own confusion, lack of conviction and my indecision
we're waiting for nothing but predictability that inevitably leads to stagnancy,
that doesn't mean that our own paths won't be carved out by us eventually
and so, where do we go from here?
we've been aimlessly waiting for our path to become clear,
the jury's still out on this one,
and we're losing ourselves to our own confusion, lack of conviction and indecision
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The Walking Targets Edinburgh, UK
Young melodic punk rock trio from Edinburgh, Scotland.
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