1. |
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The punishment of happiness
Those later feelings of regret
Obliviousness at the time
Toward seeing that your life was fine
So now your current circumstance
Seems inferior to the past
Those better days were wasted on
The fool whose joy has been forgone
I think the secret lies within the balance
Of reaching for the stars and gratitude
Feeling that this is enough
Conversely never giving up
On pursuing a life full of meaning
The punishment of desire
To realize that you’re a liar
When you say “this is enough”
But desperation calls your bluff
Fantasies of the ideal
Unlikely ever become real
To see your passions unfulfilled
Mediocrity distilled
I think the secret lies within the balance
Of reaching for the stars and keeping one foot on the ground
Feeling that this is enough
Conversely never giving up
On pursuing a life full of meaning
The punishment of gratitude
Those ambitions have been subdued
The punishment of compassion
Self-defeating inaction
The punishment of aptitude
Responsibilities accrued
The punishment of virtue
Bound to only speak the truth
The punishment of desire
To realize that you’re a liar
The punishment of happiness
Those later feelings of regret
I think the secret lies within the balance
Of reaching for the stars and keeping one foot on the ground
Feeling that this is enough
Conversely never giving up
On pursuing a life full of meaning
Or at least one worth redeeming
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2. |
The Maharajah
02:43
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for 24 hours you lived as someone else
your questionable choices affecting only yourself
seeing what it’s like to live
with robots and deluxe toilet paper
upper-middle class luxuries
like being suspended in skydiving chambers
to transcend your life
of stark disappointments
and picking up slack
for a temporary fantasy
of having a husband
who will have your back
through financial security
the safety net of joint checking accounts
as you pursue your artistry
he supports you to achieve
what you’re truly about
so you let your guard down
and acted somewhat rash
mainly concerning the feats you accomplished
while on your back
seduced by status and novel encounters
not to mention a stunning physique
the heat of the moment
repelled better judgements
of any cautionary technique
so now you’re back to your life
practical obligations and promises kept
when you weren’t mystified by
romantic delusions which left you bereft
so now you’ve got to decide between
penniless sitar players on whom you’ve relied
or on the other hand
the maharajah’s fantasy
which might just turn out to be
nothing but a lie
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3. |
Awkward Matching Shirts
02:07
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Is it still okay to wear your shoes while taking out the garbage?
Will we still share food and necessities bought for the apartment?
Will this degrade to a standard awkward roommate situation
With passive-aggressive notes about the dishes and the bills
But with elements of jealousy about each other’s
Newfound romantic inclinations
Our contrasts are more stark now
You have no reason to stay up late anymore
And I have little reason to stay home
Even when removing something harmful from a body
It can still sometimes lead to a painful recovery
Like when you helped me after my appendectomy
Or when we’d exercise those demons:
Your depression, my anxiety
It would be pretty awkward if we wore the matching shirts
Bought by your parents as a souvenir
For the underlying dysfunction which we held in our
Attempts to make this thing match our conflicting ideals
Our delusions about what it means to have a happy ending
Our policies about marriage and family
When really we’re just fellow travelers traversing this road
With our quirky, macabre, and unique sense of meaning
Which occasionally overlaps
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4. |
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I keep writing songs to make our relationship
Seem much worse than it was
As a way to justify getting dumped
But now I’m struggling to believe this bullshit that I’m making up
Better internalize it, or at least disguise it,
And hide this vestigial love
For I’ll resort to platitudes in cases when they are true
And in this case the sad cliché remains
That I’m still in love with you
You cancelled our shared cards and comics discount card
And gave me half, though I’d put in less
It seemed like a gesture to make me feel better
But it just made me feel even guiltier at best
Especially the next time I picked up my Saga
And Gabi asked for our card
This tedious maintenance telling every acquaintance
Is part of what makes breakups so hard
So I noticed our fractured connection and tried to repair it
Bought a case of cheap wine, brought it home where I figured I’d share it
But tragedy struck putting the bottles on the shelf
I bumped your cow knickknack which caused it to fall
Broke off its leg, said I’d fix it with glue
Hope you don’t think it’s a metaphor about me and you
Though it’s hard to deny that in many ways it was pretty symbolic
Which might explain why lately I’ve been melancholic
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5. |
Utterly Modern
02:38
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I never meant to repeat my tragic flaw of
Overcorrection for fear of being shallow
This time I thought I was being transparent
But nevertheless my hesitance got the best of both of us
Now here I am, having fucked up everything once again
A twist of fate had us both appreciating
The qualities in the same man
Instead of choose, we all thought we could use a dose
Of being utterly modern
But then you felt for me a heightened sense of chemistry
Which I simply couldn’t reciprocate
You needed so much more than merely a metamour
Now here I am, having fucked up everything once again
I’ve realized deep inside me I have the
Potential to become a homewrecker
Thus my main fear was that it might appear that I
Had some hidden agenda
I will admit there were times I had hoped he and I
Might end up married
In retrospect, I would hate to deflect from the
Beautiful love you both carried
Now here I am, having fucked up everything once again
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6. |
Is My Verse Alive?
03:59
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Emily Dickinson’s artistry
was limited to her private life
Like Van Gogh, only posthumously
did their masterful creations thrive
The tragedy of the artist
always left doubting:
“…if my verse is alive?”
Vivian Maier remained undiscovered
as her prerogative
Two years before death, she couldn’t pay rent
so they auctioned off her negatives
Recognition clearly wasn’t her motive
for creating
so much beauty
as she did
I’m not really the type
to pursue fame and glory
But I don’t want to end up
another tragic allegory
Another artist struggling
or resigning to
an existence either weary
or boring
How do I find a way
To survive without selling out?
To just earn an honest living
doing what I’m so impassioned about
I’m always at the crossroads of deciding
whether to give up on my dreams
on my artistry, sign out
And then lead a quiet life behind a desk
comforting myself “you did your best”
but it wasn’t enough
It just wasn’t enough
It wasn’t enough
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7. |
Safety Net
04:04
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S = Scott
X = Ex-boyfriend
S: You’re too pragmatic
X: You’re too sentimental
And you don’t even recognize your full potential
S: That being said, would you be my safety net
For my big leap of faith?
S: You do jujitsu
X: You do aikido
S: I find it hard to keep up with your healthy libido
X: That being said, I could be your safety net
For your big leap of faith
S: In the bedroom,
You’re excessively hygienic
X: Well your habits could bring about a full pandemic!
S: That being said, would you be my safety net
For my big leap of faith?
X: You’re such a Pollyanna
From Montana
S: You seem to get annoyed when I play my piano
It’s Wyoming, by the way, but would you be my safety net
For my big leap of faith?
S: Let’s be romantic
X: Too much effort
S: I don’t know why I even try these hopeless endeavors
X: Chop chop! We are late! But I could be your safety net
For your big leap of faith
S: You’re misanthropic
X: Well you’re neurotic
S: Your social interactions can seem, frankly, robotic
X: It’s social anxiety, asshole, but I could be your safety net
For your big leap of faith
S: You’re pessimistic
A tad bit sadistic
X: Well you don’t seem to comprehend a single statistic!
S & X: That being said, I could [would you] be your [my] safety net
For your [my] big leap of faith?
X: Now I’ve had time to reflect
I cannot be your safety net
But I could help you build your own instead
S: Now I’m struggling to decide
To which passions I will abide
But they’re all leaps of faith in their own way
X: Plus it seems you want a sense of home
While my tendency is to roam
And take big leaps of faith of my own
S: Sure sometimes I love adventure
And those we’ve had I’ll always treasure
But I also want stability
X: Plus safety nets you have a few
Even if I’m not your boo
For there are many people who love you
S: But over all I must endeavor
To not rely on others’ favors
To be a safety net for myself
S & X: We’re at a point where this defines
Whether our nets will entwine
Or whether we have it in us to leap together
S: Either way I will admit
That I will grieve a little bit
But one thing I know for sure
Is that knowing you has made my life better
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8. |
Working Class Grit
05:11
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I am grateful for my experiences of living in an apartment complex. As a teachers’ kid, I mostly knew the world of cul-de-sacs. Sure, we lived in rentals, and our first house was a double-wide, but growing up I never knew what it was like to share your walls with strangers.
But as a kid, I wouldn’t have noticed the significance. As an adult, I’ve loved this working class grit: hear the neighbors making love, hear them binge on Netflix, see them working on their cars as I feed the washing machine. The one on the right has never really worked, and the dryers will just eat your change unless you set them to extra high heat.
I remember when the cops tiptoed past our window to handcuff the dealer two doors down. I remember the Draconian child-rearing with which I disagreed, or the domestic disputes which still haunt my tender heart. They still haunt my tender heart.
But I also remember seeing kids of different races playing games across the crumbling pavement of the derelict tennis court, shooting hoops in the one basket still standing. Seeing families make a home out of units all the same - some of them had such character with their patio potted plants and cozy grill setups with tacky patriotic decorations.
As I leave this place, it saddens me that I never knew these folks: the quiet nerds who lived next door and had their groceries delivered, or the family who’d have deliciousness wafting out their window after midnight when they finally got home, or all the tattooed young adults living paycheck to paycheck whose lives were probably not all that different from my own. They were probably not all that different from my own.
When I first moved in, I naively thought this was a real chance for community. I’ve always romanticized the idea of a friendly neighborhood with communal block parties and open-door policies. But I should’ve known all along that wouldn’t happen here, seeing as I’ve never experienced that anywhere. Even in trusting hick-town Wyoming, the neighbors still maintained a frosty veneer. I guess in our culture of social distance, proximity’s not enough reason for someone to welcome you in. But I’ll still keep an open heart, just in case.
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9. |
Anti-Thesis
02:36
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Convictions can be dangerous, so be careful with your certainties
From the Midwest to the Middle East, convictions end in casualties
So I thought I’d use my songs to make a difference
I climbed an ivory tower to fire a dozen insults
A minstrel using intellect as a weapon against convictions
But then I’d crumble and sulk when it felt like no one listened
It’s about time I quit being so serious
And realize my songs aren’t a thesis
I wrote songs like academic texts
Stanzas fact-checked
Proofread coda signs
Spell-checked chorus lines
Online view count obsessions
Peer reviewed chord progressions
All with the intent as nothing more than sounding smart
‘Til the end result
Sounds nothing like
An actual piece of art
It’s about time I quit being so serious
And realize my songs aren’t a thesis
So who cares if my songs appear anecdotal?
I’m not a scientist, I’m simply a yokel
Who wants to use my songs to exude joy
Without necessarily proving a point.
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10. |
Space Distresses Me
03:29
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I have this new hobby of sending out postcards
old postcards from junkshops to faraway friends
“Old Soddy From Yesteryear,” corny jokes, cans of beer,
and of course places I’ve never been
‘Cause space distresses me
Money distresses me
And normally it wouldn’t,
and I know well it shouldn’t,
but it keeps me apart from the people I love
I could blame it on George Bush, or our lame economy
I could bitch and complain as I so often do
But instead, I’ll just deal, and send out these postcards,
and hope that, in time, this small world will come true
Now here I am at the end of a new year,
the end of a new dream, for all I’ve prepared
I don’t know if it’s loveless, or if I’ll even survive it
I know close to nothing, still I am not scared
Well I’m happy wherever I am,
with every new setting content
And though happy I can be
without my beloved Cast C
I do dearly miss them, and I hope it comes soon -
that time when I’ll see them again
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11. |
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I’m too kinky for FetLife
I’m not husband material
My innermost desires are illicit and venereal
I’ve sold my underwear to a man in Luxembourg
My sex life could be diagnosed as a theatre of the absurd
I need a pervert’s guide to avoiding loneliness
I love the bears and otters
But I’ll sometimes go for twinks
Any body type is beautiful
Especially when it stinks!
I like men of many different shapes and shades and demographics
I like boys who make collages of National Geographics
Philosophers, photographers
Blue, white, or pink collars
It doesn’t matter much to me whether they are dropouts or scholars
I need a pervert’s guide to avoiding loneliness
I’ve been dumped due to differences in class
I’ve been dumped by guys who didn’t like my cats
But the biggest deal-breakers that I’ve ever seen
Were from dudes who couldn’t handle my polyamory
‘Cause I’m a slut who is versatile and has many tastes
And I don’t like opportunities to go to waste
And I might be incapable of monogamy
But rest assured, my sluttiness is done ethically
Now that doesn’t mean that I’m incapable of love
Now that doesn’t mean that I don’t value your uniqueness
Now that doesn’t mean that I can’t handle commitment
All it means is I need a pervert’s guide to loneliness
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12. |
A Single Statistic
00:22
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Scott Steven Erickson Olympia, Washington
Upbeat, quirky, and just a tad bit nihilistic.
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