1. |
Broken Smile
03:45
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There are some nights when I just can't bring myself to smile.
There are some nights when I just can't bring myself to cry.
But at the end of every day I'll know that every day was mine.
There are some nights when I just can't bring myself to try.
There are some nights when I just can't lay down and die.
But when I finally do I will not care if all my choices were right.
It's a long walk to the ocean and my feet haven't taken one step.
I'm not sure where the currents will take me
But I know where the road will end.
There are some nights when I just can't give my heart away.
There are some nights when I just can't find the nerve to say.
"I don't know why I bother when you'll leave
Before you learn my name."
There are some nights when I just can't waste my time for pay.
There are some nights when I just can't find the time to play.
I'm asking why I'm singing when the future screams
"These words will be burned."
It's a long walk to the ocean and my feet haven't taken one step.
I'm not sure where the currents will take me
But I know where the road will end.
At the bottom of the sea, that's where they'll bury me.
If that's where I'll be redeemed, that's where I want to be.
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2. |
Highway Lines
02:08
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The blood red moon is gonna bleed me dry.
As the stars watch over from the patchy sky.
With the help of the planets and comets combined,
They'll spill my crimson paint on these highway lines.
A cup of hot, black coffee sitting by my side
A small, warm bed is all that's on my mind
When a rest on the shoulder could end my life
I'm forced in between these highway lines.
The pain in my throat is singing sharp tonight
My hands are shaking and my eyes are dry
My brain's in a fog, but my heart is alive
As it spills more blood on these highway lines.
They say the engine can burn up at any time.
When I've seen it all, I will end my drive.
No matter how old you get, there's still something to find.
And there will always be blood on these highway lines.
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3. |
Bachelors
03:57
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It’s a little deflating
Returning to the nest after flying off so far
It’s a little bit shaming
Picking up old habits after learning about who you are
Vices you had when you didn’t know better
I think we may be crazy
Placing all our worth in what our Alma Mater says we are
I think we may be hasty
Writing out our eulogies for the cruelties of the working week
When so many others have it worse, when so many other have it worse
If we could do what we love for some money
Why would we work part time jobs in our twenties?
We’re not entitled, but we are impatient.
We’re not hopeless, we just don’t place faith in
The idea that growing up means giving in.
It’s a little frustrating
When those with benefits decide that what we do is real or fake
It’s infuriating
When dollar signs destroy piece of mind & dictate who is qualified
Good enough for nothing but not worth something good
They say the world is changing
The onus is on us to either break it for better or worse
We can keep creating
Anthems of failure, poems of potential & self portraits of success
Play the game, stay safe or rewrite the rules
If we could do what we love for some money
Why would we work part time jobs in our twenties?
We’re not entitled, but we are impatient.
We’re not hopeless, we just don’t place faith in
The idea that growing up means giving in.
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4. |
My Last Cigarette
02:33
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I’ve got a filter in my fingers and a phone in the other,
Smoke rising to a thunderhead.
Whiskey breath mixing with the damp spring air and
Hesitation to clear my head.
Stammer over everything I’ve said and said to death,
Leave confessions over voicemail in my head and
Smoke my last cigarette.
Sober sun suggests my heart and head are in check,
I ought to say what I mean to say.
Sing a song, write a letter, take a drive down to Kingston or
Ignore you till you fade away.
Maybe a phone call is all it takes, I’m sure it’s what you deserve.
While I wait for permission to speak, every lover gets a turn.
If you want to be scared, please be scared by yourself.
Fear is not a game for three.
Depression & uncertainty have made me your second string,
Just an after thought, a conjuring.
Call the man you commit to when you feel cold inside your skull.
Set fire to the pages of your heart that I wrote to keep you warm.
I’ll make certain that you know for sure these are the last words you get While I am on the mend.
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5. |
Repose
02:40
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Is anybody else sick and tired,
Of feeling shame for what we said we are
Without knowing much of anything on what it means to live or die?
Went from angry and bitter, to forlorn, oh how I miss her
Scatter brains and bodies making sense of not feeling fucked
I need a deeper sense of self from the words I say
Without erasing the sentences from yesterday.
How can our heart & minds be connected and
Detached at the same time?
It’s like a door without a room, like a wall without a whisper.
Maybe our souls are secrets too intimate to be released,
Maybe we need a better way to empty ourselves out.
I need a deeper sense of self from the words I say
Without erasing the sentences from yesterday.
Feelings change, but not beliefs. We need a little more honesty,
Just the courage to say no when the chorus sings “Amen.”
Write your own scripture, but get to the point.
We’re all here because we don’t have a choice.
This is only way we know how to live.
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Steve Layman Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
loner punk written by a lonely person.
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