lame death

by fake blood

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LIMITED RUN OF 25 SEE-THRU BLUE CASSETTES AVAILABLE VIA DRIP TAPES:
driptapes.storenvy.com/products/11177475-fake-blood-lame-death-caassette

credits

released December 20, 2014

All songs written and performed by laura baldwin.
Recorded and produced by justin lombardo.

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Track Name: ghosting
drink yourself to death out on the porch out in the hall
remember what its like to have our hands pressed on the walls
i am feeling the effects and i am far too sad to talk
i know you don't get it, so maybe you could watch
i wanna focus on the ceiling
i am ghosting through the walls
i don’t care how much you love me
i’ll be floating in the hall
i hate you when you’re drinking, you keep rolling up your sleeves
fuck you when i’m crying, you are why i want to leave
moral fibers shaky, and i am doing this for you
you can’t get too upset when you find out i have come unglued
i wanna focus on the ceiling
i am ghosting through the walls
i don’t care how much you love me
i’ll be floating in the hall
you hit me right in front of her then kiss me on my head
so i can’t help but wishing i’d curl up and die right in my bed
thinking with your hands would make us good people, you thought
i know how much you love me, but i keep thinking maybe not
Track Name: sheets
i should have known you wouldn’t tell me
it’s like youre still afraid to hurt me
so you ignore and just avoid it
you’re a son of a bitch
everyday my questioning gets gradually worse
you’re looking pale and sickly
breathing heavy under sheets
i stare at pink creases above me
i don’t know how to be
your bodies too warm next to me
when we breathe the sheets heave
and every time i can taste myself bleed
open mouth trailing up and down the parts of you that i wanted
the dead space that i shared with you i guess i took for granted
Track Name: temples
temples bruise too easily
road barrier comes too close to me
breathing in carpet smells
you sealed the box, shipped me to hell
your glowing screen fucks me up inside
can't throw up, I try
convulsing shakes you from your sleep
lying down in the street screaming hate my fucked up dreams
wish i could leave
but you’re more than anything
i've been whispering in the dark to my sheets
i've been biting my tongue
i've been hugging my knees
you could be so good for me
Track Name: church camp
i've been spending every day since high school in the woods, under your bed
i am a thread just hanging from your t-shirt seams
i settle for the dead parts of your days as of recently
i'm so unimportant and 17
you say i'm cool enough to hang but introduce me as your friend
i'm not a place for you to rest your stupid fucking head
im a kid, you're right
hold my hand, i might get lost in your house
i've been spending everyday since high school in the woods, under your bed
wait homesick at church camp
Track Name: bedroom
touch me, we're going home
roll my eyes, walk alone
bedroom, mountains, work at 9, best friends
eight years, best friends, virgin bookends
stairwell phone call, do you mind? not at all
too late, too far, stranded, no car
kitchen countertop, cigarette, clothes off
dry throat, long drive, no calls, last time
morning morrissey, headache killing me
follow me, are you mad, I laugh, like you more than that
Track Name: is it one n or two
you shoulda stayed at home
and slept in your own room
you know, like normal
people do
but you just fucking
forget, like you're
best friends
and you watch her
walk the room
like all the pretty
girls do

even i couldn't do that
even i couldn't manage that one
even i couldn't do that
even i couldn't do that at my worst
i don't have the same
bone-structure, and
i'll never have as much
composure, as
it must have taken to
shrug me off
when you decided that
you would
shrug your clothes
off
did she lead you to
her room?
did she take you by
her hand?
did she set all of your shit
down on her night stand?
even i couldn't do that
even i couldn't manage that one
even i couldn't do that
even i couldn't do that at my worst
what could you have
said, that landed
you in bed
i hope her hair smelled
nice, did it
ruin your night?