Альбом Orange Island

So surrender every lie that you have saved up
For the impending and never-ending cutting of every tie
Of all the ties that you've lived your whole sheltered life creating
(just live your life until you die)

You don't have to be polite about it... in fact, fuck it: let's shout it
"I've moved out, finally moved on"
I mean we're now pallbearers when grieving friends
National guardsmen and working stiffs
Marines at war and marriages

I think it's about time we save ourselves and fade out, fade away
So that the say this and say that's of this small town
Will fade out, fade away

You don't have to be polite about it
Why should I fake the way I look into your face
To tell you that I've left home
And why do we always fake our way through
With that old familiar taste
I mean the circle has always closed in on itself
Whether you were there or not and no one ever lied about that shit

I mean, we can party and all but just not like it's 1999
And I know that I'm a contradiction on two legs
You've seen my ways
And you've read and you've read the ways of the insane
But I think that I'm finally saved

Maybe at home drunk is everyone's better half
Maybe we've finally stopped living in the past dwelling over the dead
Maybe it's here, finally the future that I've heard so much about
Maybe this is what we turn to though it is still booze that we burn for

And I know that that might sound sad and pathetic
But it's something to which we've all grown dependent on

And believe me, it makes for better nights
Because sometimes truth can only be seen through
These ambered lights that we hold in our hands and suck down
So find your truth and suck it down, suck it up and be a mess

And I know that that might sound even more sad and pathetic
But it's something to which we've all grown dependent on
And I know or at least I suppose so
Actually, you know what: fuck it! I don't want to know how it sounds
Because home isn't just the roof over your head
It's the same drinks to your right and same friends to the left
It's something that's always worth the wait
And is something that's always worth missing when we're away

It's like six feet deep now seems way more than we need

I mean, how much more of this can we take
We've all started yet continued to fake
As if love is all we've needed to keep our heads above water
And the wine even though we know
That we've all held our hearts below the waistline

I'm saying that shallow graves should pave the way for this
Our generation of pop star sensations, we all love the easy, right?
Easy on the eyes, easy on the mind but are we ever really satisfied

No one lives for the shit that matters anymore
And that just leaves us all fucked and alone
Like some cheap whore in some cheap motel
So just leave the money on the nightstand before you leave

The only reality is that people die
So who do you tell all of your stories to or is "too busy" your excuse
Do you let it get to you
Whose are the names engraved on all of the tombstones
Do you let them get to you

Life still goes on for us but I know
We'll keep in touch with those ones once loved

So how do you end the pulsing in your head, the ringing in your ears
You just don't: you live with it
(and every breath has never seemed more fucking forced)

Who do you tell of all of your defeats and your fears
Do you let it get to you
Who's buried underneath your feet when you're chewing on dead ears
Do you let them get to you

The funny thing about death is that it's supposed to be an ending
But instead is something that just echoes
And rings out in the minds of many
A new heartbeat started at the end of another

If not, let me tell you a story based on true events:
She uses alcohol, drugs and sex to fill that void that daddy left
You see, she's a runaway who had been raped and raped again
Until she crossed my path in this city, New York City
I was drunk and stoned and the fact is that she was a fantasy at first
Sexy enough to quench this three-year thirst
That I guess I really didn't have

We talked and talked but she never mentioned her past
She comes for miles as she came to my bed
It was my first experience with casual sex
And I'll forever be associated with what she's never known in chastity
Her father did this to her... did this to me
And now she's on her way back home

She thinks of murder when she's drunk and stoned
She'd rather be dead than die alone
Unfortunately we drank, we smoked
Then I convinced her to go back home
And kill the dad she's never known
Now she's on her way back home, knife in hand, gun in mouth
Home... I guess I should have kept my mouth shut

So don't be selfish, hold her hair back as she vomits
Don't be self-involved
You can flush it all out loud but hold your tongue and try...
Try to be a bit more subtle, try to be a bit more silent
Try to remember your first time

Do you really believe that fate played a role in the selling of your soul
When your sweat and blood they flowed
Like the faith that runs out of you

It set off a chain reaction, check the gate, change the filter
You had to have opened up your aperture
To go from that underexposed to this overexposed
I guess the only black and white
Is the so-called natural pulls of this life
Where you are only concerned with your own shit
And proof she is yours is written in your own piss
Do you remember your first time

Did you really believe that fate played a role in the selling of your soul
When your sweat and blood they flowed and faith ran out on you

Were you really ready to pop this cherry
To enter the workforce, to become this workhorse
Were you really ready to be surrounded by this cause and this effect

Now it's getting hard to see through all of the blood
And all it seems to smell like
Is the raw stench of the rust that the needle clings to
As the fishing line begins to bind to the other side of me
The chasing silence side, it's truth through silence

You see I'm sewing together my lips
And it's just because I'm so sick of who I am
And, oh yeah, I've cut off both my typing hands
Do you think anyone will notice
Do you think anyone will ever know that other side of me
The chasing silence side, it's truth through silence

It just finally felt right to go from the life of the party
To that guy who just sits in the corner and stares quietly
But it's hard and it sucks when your legend precedes you
My legend precedes me

And on this one nightstand, next to the money left
Sits a note left after a one-night stand
It's next to a half filled and lipstick smeared cocktail
And it reads, it breathes: was it good for you
I'm telling you the truth and I'm telling it all
Doesn't it seem like the writing on the wall

Twenty-one years old and life seems to end up being quoted
In every line, in every street name
And every time I get lucky with a stranger

When life becomes filled with remember when's
Only ghosts in every bed and on every corner
Of streets that are networked and locked in a flyby night town
Where the words, loaded and cocked, rarely refer to a gun

It all breathes: was it good for you

And oh how I'd die inside you
A climax insighted by your sweetness, my sweet death
Caressing you with every hot breath and every warm kiss
Since the only spin the bottle that I've been playing
Is where the bottle just spins right to my lips and I drink her down

Shit, if I could combine the two things that I love the most
I'd order you on the rocks with a twist
And toast to the beginning of a better life, a better lie
With red death and car bombs, this and that's
Long Island Iced Teas and Manhattans
The only things I like about New York and this city
Your taste is that sweet and it kills the cells that it needs to
I hurry up and drink it down

So I hope you're getting as dizzy as me
Because I don't know what to do next, I'm just hoping it's final
Or maybe not final but a least finally more than just sex
Because I'm ready to get over this three year hangover of apathy
My vacation of this breakdown
Where I drank them all down and let them all go down on me

Just remember: swallow hard and swallow fast
Man-o man-o cheviots

Don't worry, someone still believes in something
A religion of these words on a page
For the sake of a cult following gathered at the base of a stage
Who are usually hanging on the every word
Of a nobody who has nothing to say

And who are getting drunk on the blood of their Christ
On every Irish Saturday night in every small town

So don't you worry, someone still believes in suffering
For what they believe they have the right to say
One nail through both feet in true martyr form
As a mother warns of the blood of both palms and to stay sane
"don't validate those words
With the sound of a gun like that Kurt Cobain"
Where the only sound was the cold scraping of teeth
After passing through lips and then a trigger pulled into silence

So get drunk on the blood of your Christ on every Irish Saturday night
Making Sunday synonymous with a hangover
And a forgiveness for all of the week's sins
Because we pray for it all at the end of the day
Instead of just being good people in the first place

Sometimes he stares into her eyes closed while she sleeps
And thinks of how he wants her to be
Stains on her shirt from a night of spilling are filling his head
With thoughts of her wearing nothing but her drinks

Because she would wear them so well
And he needs that taste in his mouth, the taste of her body
She would wear them so well
Coronas and cape coders, those are her poisons of choice

Sometimes he stares into her eyes
And thinks about how much better his bed is with her in it
So suppress the sleep, live the dream
Don't get too sucked into reality, baby, reality TV