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troubled sleep New York

benny, mary, erik & rachel. we are scattered all over at the moment.

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Track Name: i am the ostrich
that hole in the sand is my escape plan. oh my god, did i actually say that? that whole in the sand is my solution. give me a shovel please and we'll bury my head. i doubt i'll ever loosen up. no i couldn't play it cool. i'll just cower in front of the same jerks i was afraid of in high school. and time hasn't made it better, only less forgivable. my condolences if you're with me on this one, friends, the sandbox is getting full.
Track Name: spontaneous human combustion should happen more often
i've been told that things look better at a distance. the world's on fire, so wake up and piss. i had a dream that you combusted and i was there to feed the flames. i had a dream that i combusted, but it's okay, there was no pain. a fire came down from heaven, set my awkward frame ablaze. no one knows what sparked it, and it may never be explained. all that was left was ashes. cause i'd rather burn than see my faults in you.
Track Name: you're so cool
i don't think that we'll hang out, but maybe i'll see you around. or maybe i'll move somewhere new, 'cause without you, fuck this town. do you feel glamorous? do you feel fulfilled? then send me a postcard from your new adult life. include your reasons of why you think it's time to cover your tattoos and get your life in line. say you'll go your way and you said that i should go mine. but there's nothing romantic about this story. it's the same old ending and it's so damn boring. no there's nothing romantic about your story. it's the same old ending, only you got boring.
Track Name: cold hands
i don't know what i want or what you want from me. vignettes from the sidewalk. fabricated dreams. now i feel so goddamned foolish. no, i never know what to say. think you give me too much credit. there's no accounting for taste. well it sounds stupid when you say it like that. yeah, it sounds stupid when you say it like that. you can blame it on my cold hands, my cold feet or my lukewarm heart. i shot myself in each of them so i'd never have to start. can we not talk about this? can we not talk about this at all?