1. |
And The Things of Earth
00:38
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2. |
Foster Discontentment
03:56
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Four years! Four years I’ve spent in this town!
Four years! Four years of making you proud!
But four years, they flew by quick.
Four years and I’m out of here.
Four years and I’m out of here.
Four years.
I’m done with this! Why can’t you see?
It’s not for me – not for me!
“I’ll grow up smart, I’ll grow up rich.
Regret my life, forget my kids.”
One life to live: a life in debt.
(Of past regrets, and past success.)
I’ll fight for years, I’ll find what’s left.
I’ll find what’s left!
I never let you down, you never let me leave
That’s fine by me, but I’d fight for years for a chance to prove you wrong.
I never let you down, you never me leave! That’s fine by me!
But I’d fight four years for a chance to prove you wrong.
For years! Four years, I’ve spent in this town!
Four years of making you proud! But four years – they fly by quick.
Four years, I was out of there.
Four years.
Paper towns
Paper people
Get me out
Get me out
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3. |
July Fifteenth
01:03
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4. |
Misgivings
04:06
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Misgivings
Days blend into night, as candle lights dim like the health of this life.
Because the rearview mirror had plenty to say – like freedom's found in the sunset gray,
but my hands are shaking and my hope wears thin, this hope wears small like the tight of my skin,
this Supertramp has met his match: a life lived short; a life at that.
I lived a new man,
I breathed a new name,
I knew no boundaries, and I was “free”.
Now, the trees, they sing me to sleep,
sing me to peace,
beg me to leave,
because four years, they take their toll and life is just too long,
I’ll live afraid of a nine-to-five necktie!
On my life, this nine-to-five necktie!
It’s pretty funny, you know, I thought I knew everything,
that day I turned the key, that locked the door, that ignited the freedom in me.
But you can think you’re right, you can think it through,
but when you think you’ve “got it all”, you’ve never really known, no,
you’ve never really known at all!
My material self,
My material things,
That pile of ash!
… the material me.
“Was it all really worth it?” As I reflect in the end.
When you romanticize the future, don’t romanticize “the end”.
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5. |
The Wanderer, Myself
03:52
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The Wanderer, Myself
It’s been hours! It’s getting dark!
I’m getting cold! I’m getting lost!
I’ll find a way out, I’ll find a way out, I swear!
But who best to get me out?
Than the wanderer, myself!
The wander, myself!
The wanderer, myself!
‘Cause the road won’t listen like it used to!
The sun can’t shine through these trees!
I am lost. I am Broken.
I can’t do it on my own.
This is where I draw the line.
Just then the fog cleared,
the road quit its familiar twists and turns,
and shelter found the vagabond.
Cradled by his newfound security,
he closed his eyes for the last time,
since he opened his eyes, for the first time.
You opened my eyes, for the first time.
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Yet. Memphis, Tennessee
Post-Hardcore from Memphis, TN.
JEREMY
JEFFREY
JOSH
NICK
SHAWN
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