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about
From the album, "Pretend It's Not Happening"
lyrics
Life is a deadpan joke
that flies over our heads.
We stumble, some surer than others,
in the same aimless direction.
To speak the truth is a test of a
man’s ability to judge himself
and assess his humanity
in the same unseemly light
that he judges the others.
Left a broken record
to skip itself to death.
Let the needle grind me into long black shiny slivers.
Do you ever feel trapped inside your head?
Every so often we eye the train,
the one we should be on,
but we’re too busy fueling the boiler, to get off the one we ride.
Time is a pretty funny thing.
It heals and forgives us our sins.
But left to it’s own devices
serves desert on silver trays.
Anyway…
I left a broken record
to skip itself to death.
Let the needle grind me into long black shiny slivers.
Do you ever feel trapped inside your head?
There are some things we don’t understand.
Bees rip their guts from their flesh.
And leaving the poisonous stinger,
they go off on their own to die.
Tell me why
I’m just a broken record left to skip itself to death
put the needle down into my long, black, winding rivers
let the needle grin me into long, black, shiny slivers.
Do you ever feel trapped inside your head?
Do you ever feel?
credits
from Pretend It's Not Happening,
track released August 31, 2012
Chris Probasco - Vox, Guitar, Orbiting Bell
Colby Holmes - Bass, Organ, Backing Vox
Christian Wren - Guitar
Derek Kendall - Guitar
Matthew Allan Fields - Drums
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