fucked up the balance, it’s burning a hole in me
forget the silence, I’m singing myself to sleep
when I’m dreaming you’re the one awake
but you’ve been going down so easy these days
I’m pulling punches, letting the shadows win
I’m taking blows, but you’re not the one swinging
where do you go, alone, when you need help?
I’ll climb down my throat and undo these knots myself
I said the words you know you wanted to hear
I said them good, perhaps just a little to clear
because I’m still standing here
with the dial tone in my ear
skeletal secrets, nervous attacks on me
this city’s begging for someone to patch the seams
of night-lit posture, crumbling from the weight
of empty caskets and long-abandoned graves
i hear you stirring, a quickening silhouette
kinetic motion, but no one’s awakened yet
there must be something one of us can say
this bloody towel is all that’s left of me these days
its almost as if you’re the one who’s writing all these songs
and I listen in strumming my guitar I sing along
to the dying tone in my ear
The lead singer of punk band Camp Cope ventures into romantic synth-pop territory, tempering slick arrangements with bare sentiment.
Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 8, 2020
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