Includes unlimited streaming of College Party Mixtape, vol. 1
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about
2010, Somerville
lyrics
Just tell me, darling,
does your brain still play tricks on your body?
You swear that I’m next to you sleeping?
You swear you can still hear me breathing?
So tell me, darling,
Does your brain still play tricks on your body?
You’re starting to think you are haunted.
Why would you ever be haunted?
I remember your face, not all the things that you’d say.
Might be shallow, I guess, but in my defense, your friends all feel the same.
Except when you said, we’d build a home in my bed.
You swore to the sky, you weren’t a liar, HA! HA! HA! There’s egg on your face.
And your mother with fret, “That boy is bad for your head!”
That boy, he just wants you fed. “That boy is trying to kill you.”
But you’re lit
to the gills
And you blame it on your chemicals
Well goddamn, baby,
won’t her face be red.
And you want
to go home
‘cause your shivering like an icicle.
Just one more cigarette And you’ll tell me
“Darling!”
Does your brain still play tricks on your body?
You swear that I’m next to you sleeping?
That’s probably because you’re not eating.
So tell me, darling.
Does your brain still play tricks on your body?
You hate it when I call you baby.
‘Cause you say that it’s so fucking lazy.
I remember your grace, the forty-four dollars you ate.
What good is a meal at a four star hotel if you just throw up the steak?
But you try to save face, and blame all the people you hate.
If you stand statue still, then maybe you will just evaporate.
But you’re dead
on your feet,
and you swear you just forgot to eat.
Well goddamn, baby,
isn’t my face red?
And you want
to go home,
‘cause you’re shivering like an icicle.
Just one more broken bone
And you’ll call me
Darling.
Does your brain still play tricks on your body?
You swear that I’m next to you sleeping?
That’s probably because you’re not eating.
So tell me, darling,
Does your brain still play tricks on your body?
You’re starting to think you are haunted.
And I’m starting to think you are haunted.
So tell me, darling,
Does your brain still play tricks on your body?
You swear that I’m next to you sleeping?
That’s probably because you’re not eating.
So tell me, darling,
just bury your bones in the garden.
And maybe you’ll grow something perfect
that won’t make you feel fucking worthless
Jacob the Horse met on a Greek island when our daughter tricked us into coming to her wedding in order to figure out which
one of us was her real father.
Interest includes: loud guitars, catchy melodic hooks, and cramming as many words into their songs as possible.
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