bodies of water lyrics

with the last record i made a zine that included lyrics accompanied by more literal descriptions of what each song meant to me. i didn’t make a zine with this record because i personally appreciate when zines are handed off between two people that meet somewhere, and i felt like selling a record doesn’t necessarily have that level of personal intimacy in its exchange. i also found that it was a lot harder to talk about what each song meant because they feel less like separate ideas and more like a continuation of a few thoughts that have been really prevalent in my life/mind during the time that we wrote and recorded these songs (and since). it’s hard to articulate but ultimately i think that mostly these songs are about trying to provide the best support i can to the people i already know and love, without sacrificing an equal level of care and respect for myself. every relationship requires introspection, and hopefully introspection is something that will help us find ways to end the relationships that are abusive/violent/not-worth-it and find ways to thrive in relationships that we want to maintain, even if we don’t always know how.

i generally avoid asserting any statements in confidence but i am ok with saying that i believe self expression and communication are integral to growth and growth seems integral to survival.

jump start —
today the coffee stand was robbed. car wouldn’t start, jump start the car although i don’t have far to go. only the parking lot around the block, the library, the grocery store, home. we’ll call it a wash, hope that it slows to a stop but so far it’s not. and don’t be surprised to hear from me, you’re all i’ve got. all our wares are good as gone and i know i am damage done.

slow release —
summer came and i didn’t notice. when it left it was just the same. you packed up and said you were leaving. now you’re back again. i still live in that same apartment. i still call and you don’t call me. we fall in to half-hearted living, nostalgia and lethargy. it’s been a slow release all along, you must have misheard or wrote it down wrong.

don’t forget the first one —
i could never be the one. shield yr eyes from the winter sun. we won’t forget the first one. forget what i said, i never had no good advice but wouldn’t it be nice. i lack in patience and in foresight. we want a heart in working condition, good looks, good disposition. i reject the notion that you can only have one. meet me at the coast by the ocean. i can hear it long distance, through the phone, through your callous statements. an imprint in wet cement, “i’m unlovable i am discontent.”

earthquake —
we had a plan for the big quake. i like to map out my escape routes. you’ve got a big heart but they say it doesn’t work well. i’m not that surprised. these aren’t the ways that we’ve grown to quantify. you’re somewhere in the pacific, i’m hoping you’re alright cause your letter didn’t say much. we had a plan for the big quake. i like to map out my escape routes. you were gonna meet me at the bus stop between our two streets. your letter didn’t say much, but i didn’t write back, so how could i expect that? i’m sorry i’m not waking up. if you call i’m not hanging up.

small talk —
i was never the pretty one. don’t tell me otherwise. small hands can hold it all. thick skin can multiply. i mispronounce words. i think in rhyme. i’ve been misplaced and it’s not the first time. i was never the good one, you’ve got it all wrong. i might have said that i could once and that was my fault. i stop short of the things you remind me of. we might not say much but we still like to talk.

all the experts say —
there’s a place called salt flat in texas. maybe we should go there before the year ends. there’s the way i pegged you all wrong. these things that we’ve been doing for so long don’t make much sense after all. i never thought i’d be working for the weekend. i used to think that i wanted to be different. all the things we love are just a euphemism. the things we love are just a euphemism. stuck in blue, it’s clear as day. a shift in view and all the expert say how to sit still, how to stand straight, how to move on from a southern state.

san mateo —
san mateo, pen and paper. i’m here now and i’ll be here later. i watch you carry weight too heavy to lift too real to measure and i always know when you’ve hit a new low. i always fall asleep before you. move to fast. it’s not for sure. you don’t blink. i talk before i think, you know i do. and i wish it weren’t true that i’m not enough to carry you through. we owe all the parks and parking lots where we met, where we went to find the things that we had lost or we forgot. we forgot.

word of the day —
i won’t be your nepenthe or just body, just a place to store all your bad dreams. were you even listening? i won’t be your land form, cracked earth full of faults, or something to weigh down with all your ways with words. i might wonder i might worry but i’ll resist the compulsion to say i’m sorry. last night through the bus window i saw you but i pretended not to. i won’t be your nepenthe or just a body, that’s not me. i won’t lay down.

open curtains —
you open curtains. you let light in. i am in my room in the dark again. don’t try to tell me that don’t mean something. it’s been winter for about 9 months and i will lose sleep with every night, it don’t take much. i don’t subscribe to solid lines but i will believe your lies like we all speak the truth. some people always talk too loud. some people don’t say much at all. i write it down, it’s just a thought. you know you’re cool, i know i’m not. some people always say they’ll call. i never had the wherewithal or confidence to speak like i was sure of anything at all.

bodies of water —
baggage as heavy as you think you can carry. you live in the midst, a miscellaneous array of anything that alleviates. body of water. you look just like your mother down by the lake. a cup of coffee and a list of ways that we delineate our lives like city lights, bright but bound to fade. i do it all for you.

~*~new lyrics~*~

i’ll call it a shot in the dark. i tried but i missed the mark. you know i talk a lot of talk. i’ll call it a waste of time and you’ll say were we wasting yours or mine? you know i’ve got a shifting, shaking spine. you know i’ve got an ever-changing mind. i will call my friends. it’s just my luck, i’m locked out again and you could let me in but i think i’ll just let myself down again. i don’t want to wait anymore.

i don’t want to tell a lie, i spent the season watching out my window and i didn’t see you pass by. i don’t want to tell the truth, that all you want to do is talk shit about yourself. i don’t want to live my life staring in to the blank eyes of electronics. i don’t want to wake one night to find that you’re gone. whenever you go wherever you go, i will try to find you. so whenever you go wherever you go, don’t lock the door behind you. i don’t want to tell a lie so i just won’t say anything while you cover your face in makeup so you look like the girls on tv. we learned how to weigh ourselves down and we do it on repeat.

i’ll learn the history of the world some time before february and i’ll take small steps as i go, i am cautionary. i’ll read yesterday’s news, the stories they never change. i could save seventy-five cents but i like to check it just the same. you’ll follow a concrete path past buildings that are built to last. you know we’re not made of steel, we’re not quite as secure as that. head down a marked off map directing through the years and you’ll sleep soundly on mattresses and sleeping pills. i’ll learn the history of the world sometime before february and i’ll take small steps as i go, i am so ordinary. i’ll look at myself in reflective surfaces as i walk home past parked cars and storefront windows. my heart is heavy, my head is full of thoughts you’re probably better off not to know.

the abandoned buildings on the 101, some half-gone, some standing strong but empty, i could say they’re just like me. and all that empty space inside my head, on my bedroom wall or in my bed, they’re just like me. and you could say it’s just like me to think so. i’m living in the space below city debris and dust that disappeared like footsteps in the snow.

i didn’t even realize my ears were ringing. i was missing all the subtle things, all the birds that were singing out your window. i kept straining to hear cause i know you can hear it through the city sounds, all those cars that are driving around, your neighbor playing disco, you can hear his bass beat through the floor. there’s not much room to breathe, i don’t blame you for wanting to leave. you can see it through the city smog, all those clouds that are rolling along. we get home at dusk and we leave again at dawn. there’s not much room to breathe, i don’t blame you for wanting to leave and i won’t ask you to stay with me. i’d like to gather dust like a library book on a back shelf does, so you could open me up and see when i last checked out. you’d like to fade away, it’s a long way down and your words might not carry, so you’ll just trail off now. i’ll pretend it’s as simple as state of residence or state of mind or asking you not to leave me behind.

strung together sentences, they waver in the wind. i speak in cliched words and phrases. i might as well admit i’m predictable and trite. you’ve got backbone and light. i watch you trace the outline of all that you’re surrounded by and i couldn’t trace a straight line even if i tried. a photo at the ocean of your name in the sand. we place weight in words and we do what we can but let’s give credit where credit’s due. i might try my best but i’ve got nothing on you. no i couldn’t trace a straight line even if i tried. unravel our stories like a spool of thread. we’ll start with the songs that we both sing and the books that we’ve both read.

the weather never really mattered, it was just something there was to talk about. we fall in to habits and patterns and there’s not much that we can do about it. rearrange your room again. i want to live somewhere as small as i feel when i fall asleep or wake up. do you remember how it feels to fall? do you remember anything at all? and i never asked you what’s the matter. we were taught not to talk about all the things that realy matter. stare straight ahead at the screen and block it out. i’ve got phantom pains but it’s no consolation. take the car out to the highway, look for faded constellations. i remember how it feels to fall, do you remember anything at all? your bloody feet on the hospital carpet. your scratched up arm. our body heat and an old car with the heater on. i can’t stop the cold fronts from coming our way, but through all the bad weather, i’ll stay.

pack up all your things in boxes. it’s time that we add this place to the list of empty houses. and all my signatures and secret messages in the hole at the bottom of the staircase, in pencil on the wall, in cement in the driveway, they won’t be there long after all. sentimental objects make me feel so small. we’re always living beyond our means. well all i need is a phone call. all i need right now is a phone call. and all your notebooks, paintings on the wall, your mother’s things in the basement, where will we keep them all? don’t be hurt by these things that i do, i put my nose in a book and pretend i can’t hear you. it’s not a matter of you having to prove that this was the best that you could do.

i’d like a picture of the picture hanging on the fridge by the red light that you put in the light fixture where you’re sitting in the backyard smoking cigarettes. call it a fracture or a fissure. i could say the world split open but we know it didn’t. well let me exaggerate, we’re living in the same golden state in more ways than one, but i haven’t seen you in so long. and we’ll try our best not to waste away. put our sorrows to a tune in hopes that they’ll fade. we can count the miles or list the things we have to say. and we’ll keep talking about the glory days. well i didn’t want to leave but i didn’t want to stay. looking back might lead down a lonely path but i still find myself walking that way. not much is different but not much is the same.

on the way home take the long way. i go way out, past where the water breaks. on the weekend you like to treat yourself. in the mornings i sleep in and let the coffee make itself. i never wanted to give all i had to you. i never wanted to give everything i had to you. on the way home all these freeways look the same. take the long way, i know i’ll get there some day.

lyrics (split w/ bit part)

here are lyrics to the songs from our split with bitpart, in case anyone wants to sing along, or was wondering what i’m saying.

it started out as nothing it became something through the day i took the train southbound took it northbound on the way home and i’ve taken this route before i’ve been here before and it looks just the same we can talk about way back when i knew you but i didn’t know you then but i do now or i’d like to think so i would close my eyes and just pretend i would end up somewhere close to where i’ve been yeah we can talk about way back when i knew you but i didn’t know you then but i do now isn’t in obvious i want to to close my eyes and take you in i see things now that i didn’t even notice back then i’m not as big a fool as you think i am i know how this is gonna end and i’m following along the el camino well i never liked it here but what do i know running parallel to the alameda if i said i didn’t love you i didn’t mean it

we walk the long way headed the wrong way i won’t say i told you so not today you talk the night away don’t hear a word i have to say and your words sound heavy but i know they don’t hold much weight it took a long time to do but i’m getting over you and in the end it really wasn’t that hard to do

when you stand still can you feel your legs shaking take a look at the mess that we’re making i don’t have limbs to count the mistakes or the bad decisions you can call me old fashioned but i hate your electric coffee mate and i hate the sound of your voice cracking through the telephone don’t bother calling me today cause i’m not home when you stand still can you feel the world turning around that’s the story they’ve been spreading around but they’ve told us things before that we know aren’t true and i’d like to burn the magazines you use but i’d end up taking in their fumes i’m full of pollution and sentimentality i’ll save a piece for myself and you can have the rest of me i’m not mad i just feel let down and i’m not disappointed i’m just leaving town because i want to or at least i’m gonna try to yeah i’m not mad I just feel let down and i’m not disappointed i’m just leaving town because i want to or at least that’s what i’ll say to you (next time around)

hang a blanket to block the light maybe i’ll get some sleep tonight it’s late and i’m restless i move
around but it’s so aimless i stare at the ceiling it’s an increasingly concrete world and i’m going
through the motions i was told that i should i’m going through the motions can’t you see it pass me
by like the ocean you light up like a street light you know Iive got no plans tonight so let’s do
something reckless i really think that we could both use it and i’m staring at a blank wall never got
around to filling it and i’ve got boxes that i haven’t unpacked but don’t we all i stand still because
i’m afraid to fall

you lent me your green sweater and i went and lost it you sent me a letter and i never responded to it winter’s coming and i think i might just try to sleep right through it but don’t take my advice i don’t recommend it we cross bridges and we burn them down and my hearts been wandering all over town and if we cross paths i will say hello but i will not slow down you gave me something fragile and i went and dropped it it’s bruised and battered but i don’t think that i quite broke it still i’m sorry for it and just take my advice and make a run for it we cross bridges and we burn them down and my hearts been wandering all over town and if we cross paths i will say hello but i will not slow down

i’d like to be a morning riser i’d like to be a little bit wiser you are the strong and silent type tried it once but it didn’t really feel right back where we used to live you’re crying in the living room i’d like to be full to the brim but here i am half-empty again we hardly speak at all you live alone and i don’t call maybe i’ll come visit but don’t count on it don’t count on me for anything at all you bury your head in your arms don’t look up ’til everyone’s gone and i’m buried in words and sounds it gets louder each time around

that was a long game of cards we played in hindsight we both know we played it the wrong way sometimes i feel full and sometimes i feel empty i’m sorry about that house of cards you built when you finish collecting all the guts you spilled will you feel satisfied or just realize you’ve been emptied out you know you’re too good to be hollowed out and you look for the ocean but you’re stuck on dry land i think you’re lying when you’re saying that you’re doing the best you can you keep moving you don’t want to be another body that gathers dust we learned the hard way that you just fade away wasting away on the back shelf and we don’t want to fade away quite yet

treading water is such a waste i get so tired and i get nowhere i’m so tired of the same old cracks you close your eyes and plug your ears and don’t look back well i learned when i was young to take a little piece of something from everyone and we don’t start fresh my skin rests on so many layers of so much shit running in place is such a waste it’s a dilapidated daydream and i’m running out of things to say there’s a lot to see beyond the sidewalk cracks if you raise your eyes you can see for yourself yeah i learned when i was young to take a little piece of something from everyone and it’s a precarious construction i could fall apart at any time i learned when i was young to take a little piece of something from everyone well i know i’ve got room to grow

emotional update

“i’m sensitive and i’d like to stay that way” – my girl jewel

joyride!-related new years resolutions

01 go on tour even if it is the smallest tour ever
02 make joyride! shirts
03 get better at playing the guitar
04 only make wallet-sized flyers and always make sure that there are physical copies beyond the internet world
05 write in my diary more

so far progress is being made for 02 and 04

(other resolutions include: improve my d&d character and be a good person)