I’ve seen just how they react. No one gave a shit about something that I felt proud of. At least I felt proud until I started singing to an empty room.
But I need to be a singer. I need to sing. Still, sometimes I just want to stop. I wish I could shut the fuck up.
Cause there are so many things that I need to take more seriously. Cause I can’t make a career out of this self-loathing.
The saddest part is the fact that I know I’m being a selfish prick, thinking that I shouldn’t write or sing songs if no one’s telling me, “God damn, I really dig this shit, man.”
Track Name: A Role
You think too much. You spend too much time alone. Would it kill you to come home and be happy to see me? Stepping out the door, quick kiss on the cheek. You’ve got a lot fucking nerve keeping a secret like that from me. I read what you wrote. All those lyrics to the songs that you don’t think anyone notices. You think you have it bad? Spending time at bars, complaining that you’re not a rock star. You need to grow up. Just because artists are usually fucked doesn’t give you the right to write whatever you like. When I read that you’d like to die, what the hell am I to think? I know that you know just what you’re doing. You act like it’s all a role that you’re playing.
Track Name: An Angle
I think I must be terrified. I plan on keeping the car running a while, counting my steps into the house. Oh, hell. Every day for three months, I’ve been ignoring the voice inside my head telling me my dad did more good for me dead. It’s a shame that I’ve spent so much time practicing how best to hate my life. I need a new angle. This light I choose to live by, it never helps me really get – get an accurate idea of the world. I’m a cynical asshole responsible soon for a child. I keep telling myself that it’ll be fine, but I keep thinking I might fuck up this kid’s life. I need a new angle. I need a new state of mind. I think I’m scared out of my mind. I plan on sliding the lock out of the bolt, leaving my jacket back at home. I’ve got to go.