This Is What We Woke Up To.

by Messes

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.

      name your price

     

1.
2.
3.
4.

about

Recorded August 2012.

credits

released August 24, 2012

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Messes Somerset, Kentucky

a band

shows

contact / help

Contact Messes

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: My Dad Calls It Riptide
I've been through this hell/
I can't get a grip.

My mom tells me to pray more/
my dad just stopped talking altogether.

I'll call when I grow up.
I'll act like a whole new person.
I could finally go into the store without
an upper or a reasurance that my
friends still give a shit.

But the whole time
I was just a nervous little shit.
nothing to care for
or a shoulder to turn on.
so i packed up my guts up off
the floor and spilled them all over
my loved ones.

you'd quit me
if you had the chance.
just like me/ I quit you.

it's so goddamn calming
crying over him or her
or not knowing where i'll end up.
I could just play along.
Track Name: We Prefer Kickflips
this isn't some cry for help/
or a way to fit in.

I can't make it home/
I couldn't see the road
through my clinched fists/
and the pathetic lump in
my throat.

I don't feel normal anymore
I never really did in
the first goddamn place.

I'll never be like him or her.
the son of a pastor/
the kid to never hear
that his father was proud.

I tried to pray
ended up writing down
everyone and everything
I forgot to give a shit about.

But at least I'm not
angry anymore.
Track Name: This Isn't The First Time That The Wind Blew Trash In My Face
If you had the chance/
to fix the things you do/
to fix who you are/
would you?
or could you bare/
knowing you've become
so emotionally detached
from everyone and everything
you've ever loved.

I'd like to think I would.
But on these nights/
I just pull my car to the
side of the road and
cry/ until my dad calls
and tells me "son,
it's time to come home."

but my heart just stops.
my fingers won't let me go
forward/ I try to say " I'M SORRY"
for the last time.
just like the last time.

maybe I'll never understand
why I lose control/ or why I can't
find comfort in sex or god or
your pretty little smile.
It's been gnawing at my insides.
I need to untie my guts from this
knot inside my stomach and throat
it's my last bit of honesty.
I'M SORRY!