Random nearly one of a kind colored vinyl housed in a hand screened jacket.
Includes unlimited streaming of Who Cares
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Sometimes it will take you until you're staring down toilets,
That you've been this rock at the bottom for too many months.
You sloppily wipe your face with no more excuses,
It's time to grow.
I cannot recall the past few nights spent in Fargo,
But I can remember the thought that I'd probably forget.
What it's like to reach a type of introspective
Light to glow.
Would someone please pick me up?
I''m afraid of where I might end up for the night tonight.
Oh, there's some place I could find peace with myself,
And the world would have a better impression,
Of who I'd like to be.
I'm sick of the brain cells lost, I'm sick of no breakfast,
These empty bottles fuck up this houses feng shui.
I might just go ring a bell or light up a candle.
But that won't take back the drunken text
That I apparently sent out to that confused girl,
Or the way that I pissed in an inappropriate space.
Oh, the shock you got from all of those around you,
It's getting old.
It's like I'm drifting off to sea, alone.
My body's drowning,
And I can't believe I've lost the shore.