self-exasperation

from no more funerals by salvo

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Made from an undying love for broken things. Dubbed on order.

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Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album
Includes unlimited streaming of no more funerals via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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Purchasable with gift card

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lyrics

i don’t wanna be a little man a bad man who can never understand another’s feelings
i don’t wanna be the cold sad sack with a graduate degree in emotional concealing
i am the master of sadness and peeling back my own madness like a carcass for feeding
irrational lying is pastime of conceited half-assed and inconsistent shielding
oh god i can’t see past my own interests past my own weakness past my own needs
past the empty distance of my insistence everything is fine just forget the past you witnessed
i swear i’m better i swear i’ll never change the hurt that you always feel is a pattern we can take
back to the beginning i swear i’ll double down i swear i’ll see that shrink this time around

i don’t know anything no empathy
i am the misery you breathe when you sleep
into darkness — hold on

hold on to the vacuum cleaner hold on to that old tv
hold on to my mismatched socks and missing xbox controller number three
let go of the the bitter memories you keep of me locked in your heart like a threepenny opera
i am amoral and static even when I oughta be free
i regret everything i said in youth and folly the way i led you on was entirely disheartening
lying to myself to seduce a puce moment the days i fed you lies i put your trust into squalor
i hoped to make it better to make it all change to make you feel safe and wanted every single day
back to the beginning but i burnt it all down the hurt you feel is water that we drown in now

i don’t know anything no empathy
i am the misery you breathe when you sleep
into darkness — hold on
hold on

credits

from no more funerals, released August 5, 2014

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Autocorrect Columbia, South Carolina

Autocorrect is a full body listening experience. The sounds therein lead to spontaneous goose flesh, getting woke all up, and contemplating the bliss inherent in suffering.

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