1. |
It Gets Better
04:11
|
|||
|
In the past it felt natural to try
To always find a reason why
The bad comes on like a flood to the good.
Why despite it all, it never felt like it should.
Well, you don’t say…
It gets better, it gets better (Our way)
Well you don’t say…
If I screamed it wouldn’t even make a sound.
Mostly ‘cause there’s no one even around.
So, drown yourself in dullness and apathy.
It’s the next best thing to really being happy.
Well, you don’t say…
It gets better, it gets better (Our way)
When you don’t care…
Wherever there is passion, there is pain.
The good, the bad, it all blends in the same.
We all need something to get through the day.
I just wish I believed it when I say:
(But I don’t now)
It gets better, it gets better (Our way)
Well you don’t say…
It gets better, it gets better (Our way)
Well you don’t say…
It gets better, it gets better (Our way)
Well you don’t say…
It gets better, it gets better (Our way)
When you don’t care…
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
I got your message and, hey, I think you're keen too.
Going for a drink is something we should do.
I don't mind if you're looking for the same.
If you want, I don't even need a real name.
So come on down.
I'm a half bottle in.
I got plenty more.
I could have use to you.
Life in this town,
It'd be safe to say
You just want to get laid.
Well, that's okay.
I must say, out of all the personal ads,
This was the best three hours I've ever had.
But all good things, they must come to an end.
I know you need to get home to your boyfriend.
No need for tact.
I don't expect a call.
Don't care if you go.
I work tomorrow too.
Life in this town,
You could simply say
That you should be on your way.
Well, that's okay.
So come on down.
I'm a half bottle in.
I got plenty more.
I could have use to you.
Life in this town,
It'd be safe to say
You just want to get laid.
No need for tact.
I don't expect a call.
Don't care if you go.
I work tomorrow too.
Life in this town,
You could simply say
That you should be on your way.
Well, that's okay.
|
||||
3. |
I'm Not Here
03:51
|
|||
|
I'd like to be the one who calls
All the shots but never falls
In love with you, in love with her.
As if it matters anymore.
I'd like to be the one to see
What you and I could truly be,
But like a flash that's burned too fast,
Just dedication never lasts.
You can call me, but I'm not here.
I'm not here.
It may be bold, but truth be told,
It feels as if I'm getting old.
That everything I once believed
Was only teenage fantasy.
I'd like to be another man,
The one you always say I am.
A sweet thing to say, but it's not true,
'Cause one and zero don't make two.
You can call me, but I'm not here.
I'd like to be the one to see
What you and I could truly be,
But like a flash that's burned too fast,
Just dedication never lasts.
You can call me, but I'm not here.
I'm not here.
Two as one, yet still alone.
|
||||
4. |
ESP
04:10
|
|||
|
Made me make a promise
That you couldn’t even keep.
The only thing you keep’s distance.
Stony, stoic, wretched.
I cringe at the silence of my phone,
The fear of God in stepping outside.
It feels like years since you have gone away,
And every day I wish that you had stayed.
I still walk the streets now,
But I’m always looking down,
'Cause everything I see is you.
It’s not that I’m not looking,
It’s just that I’m not finding
A good reason to move on.
It feels like years since you have gone away.
Smiling empty, laughter is just a charade.
Fooling nobody but myself.
’03's city living; ’04's urban hell.
This puzzle’s falling to pieces.
There’s no point to even cry;
It’s just a useless waste of time.
I’d try to close my eyes,
But I don’t think it would help.
It’s through the darkness you remember.
It feels like years since you have gone away,
And every day I wish that you had stayed.
Always at the right place at the wrong time.
I’m scared of living, but I never want to die.
|
||||
5. |
Act of Whore
02:31
|
|||
|
Lost inside myself,
But it’s all I know,
But I’m better off this way
Than feeling nothing at all.
‘Cause I’m easy as ABC,
Always sleeping with the enemy.
Confidence always leads to defeat.
Sleeping, breathing only under sheets.
Look and feel like shit,
But I smell like a winner.
Find comfort in hate,
An original sinner.
I serve as a lover
Through transitions.
Nothing more than an
Interim sexual distraction.
I trade stability to feel
On the off chance I’ll feel something real.
Lack of substance leads to mass appeal.
Punishment for caring unconcealed.
Look and feel like shit,
But I smell like a winner.
Find comfort in hate,
An original sinner.
Got one direction,
Always going down.
Incapable void,
The best lay in town.
|
||||
6. |
The Year After
04:57
|
|||
|
I wish I had you back, but it's too late.
You're too far gone.
The same old situation. The same old story.
The same old song.
An act of desperation. Or aspiration?
It's all semantics, don't you know?
I'd like to be the one to say goodbye.
It must be fun to be afraid to try.
Leave it up to you to make me see
That jealously ain't really that bad a thing.
They said to "try love our way." It makes you happy,
It solves the problems.
The only trouble with that is the simple fact
It's the root of them.
I'd take it seriously
If you didn't act so goddamned guilty every time.
I'd like to be the one to say goodbye.
It must be fun to be afraid to try.
Acknowledge your expendability.
One is a less lonely number than three.
I'd like to be the one to say goodbye
It must be fun to be afraid to try.
It's a shame I couldn't stare at you
The way you glanced at me while passing through.
|
||||
7. |
||||
|
Queue the old routine.
It’s better off this way.
Affection turned obscene.
It’s better off this way.
Seventh to the sixth.
It’s better off this way.
A temporary fix.
It’s better off this way.
There was a time,
‘Twas you and I,
But now it's gone
Like every high.
There was a time.
|
||||
8. |
24hrs
02:18
|
|||
|
Twenty-four hours is all we have left.
No bids to make our peace,
Only bids to regret.
Twenty-four hours is all we have left.
Twenty-four hours.
Twenty-four hours.
Time is running out for bittersweet disease,
Huddled with umbrellas as if we were Siamese.
Time is running out for our respites and goodbyes.
The only marks left to be made are those that we incise.
Twenty-four hours, it’s all subjective.
Every second past,
Another second dead.
Twenty-four hours, I’d kill to live the lie.
Twenty-four hours.
Twenty-four hours.
Time is running out for bittersweet disease,
Huddled with umbrellas as if we were Siamese.
Time is running out for art walks and kitchen lights.
The only marks left to be made are those that we incise.
|
||||
9. |
||||
|
I’m a messiah of that which does not last.
Never thought such a small thing could break me in half.
I’m sick and tired of always being missed;
A lost pariah of suppressed existence.
Now when I look at your picture,
Your name just don’t fit you anymore.
Ripped apart at the suture.
Your name just don’t suit you anymore.
I’m not a lead role; at the best a subplot,
A requisite extra to some demigod.
In gilded fashion, she promised a bloodbath.
All I got was a bullet in text format.
Now when I look at your picture,
Your name just don’t fit you anymore.
Ripped apart at the suture.
Your name just don’t suit you anymore.
Now when I look at your picture,
Your name just don’t fit you anymore.
Ripped apart at the suture.
Your name just don’t suit you anymore.
|
||||
10. |
A Song of Surrender
03:55
|
|||
|
I’ll never be the last man standing,
Just the last one who cares.
Trapped in your pity-felt smiles
And emotion-lost stares.
My role secondary only
To those who came before.
A footnote, mistake, cheap novelty.
Now a past to ignore.
That’s when I say:
This is a salute towards unconditional surrender,
To the horrible truth that manifested itself in her.
This is a song, this is a song of surrender.
I want, I need, but I’m realistic.
Desire is denial.
Rejection her remaining comfort.
Gives her peace for a while.
A show of strength, a show of weakness,
The end result is the same.
A win, a loss, it doesn’t matter.
To her, it’s still just a game.
That’s when I say:
This is a salute towards unconditional surrender,
To the horrible truth that manifested itself in her.
This is a song, this is a song of surrender.
This is the end, but this ain’t it.
A waste of time and a waste of breath.
Never in the right, always left
Alone in the cold
Playing love like roulette.
This is the end, but this ain’t it.
This is the end, but this ain’t it.
This is the end, but this ain’t it.
This is the end.
|
||||
Post Adolescence Seattle, Washington
Drawing from 80s post-punk sounds of the Buzzcocks, Placebo, and Manic Street Preachers, Post Adolescence and their album “My Nothing” demonstrate a British Post-Punk-Glam sound that belongs only to them. These pure pop sounds find the “young and angry” pleasure center for which all of us lust. In the truest sense, they are at the leading edge of the next wave of the post-modern rock movement. ... more
If you like Post Adolescence, you may also like:
Help bring Hooray for Earth’s breakthrough psych-pop opus to vinyl by pledging to this crowdfunding campaign.
go to album
All These Worlds Are Yours [LP]
by HOLY
Hannes Ferm combines stunning musical precision with a fondness for haze and reverb.
go to album
Get groovy with the new one from Orions Belte, an album bursting with lithe basslines and hooky melodies.
go to album
Driving yet melancholic post-punk from Pale Blue Eyes recalls the glory days of '80s UK indie.
go to album
The Nightmare Gosifur pt 3
by Adrian Sood
In Adrian Snood’s songs, soulful vocals and slow-moving alt-pop swirl together to create something distinctly moving.
go to album
The group’s first album since 2018 takes a back-to-basics approach.
go to album
Hominis Canidae #148 - Setembro (2022)...
by Hominis Canidae
featured on Bandcamp Radio Oct 4, 2022
go to album
