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There's a tick in my membrane
saying that he can get me fixed up.
He'll take care of everything and
tell me I never loved anyone...
that I could steal ideas
that seem better than my own kind.
I drill where it sparks up,
split through case and collagen.
Say something just to say something,
make sure I didn't go too far in.
Now I'm replacing all these links in sequences.
It seems things are going my way,
but the picture's weak.
Everything's a copy that I'm copying.
Now the static creeps,
and it replaces you with who—
I hope I'm not a case study.
I hope they don't put my brain in a tank
and poke holes in the holes I've made.
I hope they don't find my memory tapes, because
I grow thorns on my tongue when I speak,
I grow burs on my lungs when I breathe,
I've been selling a pipe dream through my teeth, and now
I'm buying in because
it seems so nice
to reckon you're the good kind.
I reckon I'm a good time,
but I dug too deep.
I ripped up flowers when I wanted weeds.
Now the soil's clean,
and there's nothing left to see.
And the picture's weak.
Everything's a copy that I'm copying.
Now the static creeps,
and it replaces you with who I hoped you'd be.
All I see are photographs
with faces that don't match your heart at all.
I feel you leaving.
You're missing something.
You're fading quickly.
Oh god...
I'm only vapor.
A breeze across your lips.
No memory of this.
If WPE keeps making music like this album, I will keep buying it. For me this has the perfect amount of energy and sincerity. Also, the recording and mixing is done well (thanks, Kyle). Garamek