Bury me in postcards
My situation is gray.
Calling out the coast guard
Or some likeness of his waste.
And it's true, that I don't believe you
Let the hours pass away.
Not good enough to be here.
Throwing books across the room
to intimidate the kids at school
But I don't lie, I can't lie
when I know exactly how you feel.
My name is all that clings to my fate
Always my fault, I made a mistake.
I won't buy it.
Letters cut me out.
Letters drag me down.
Platitudes of martyrs
Selling records on the phone
Cut a man between the teeth
To laugh about his blood
And it's true, that I don't believe you
let the hours pass away.
Not good enough to be here?
Throwing books across the room
to intimidate the kids at school
But I don't lie, I can't lie
when I know exactly how you feel.
My name is all that clings to my fate
Always my fault, I made a mistake.
I won't buy it.
Letters cut me out.
Letters drag me down.
The third studio album from self-proclaimed "prunge" artist Kevin Nichols; delves into the perils of depression and anxiety. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 6, 2018