You always laugh,
At really bad jokes.
Have you realized yet all your friends know it’s a hoax?
You went to college,
Didn’t learn a thing.
Mocking all their learning, but too scared to sing.
I know it’s cooler that way,
But despondency is a drain.
What’s the point in winning a loser’s game?
You start gentrifying prison,
Lobbying for decomposition.
Just another wet blanket in my pouring rain.
Well here comes Fitzgerald,
Old money America,
Sipping gin on yachts and writing with red mascara.
He’s gone numb
From small talk and alcohol
500 texts a day but never a call.
When affection strikes to the core,
And the sentimental people leave ya bored
Start looking for something profound to ignore.
Well the music went Rococo.
Big mouths and little dreams.
You don’t know where I stand but you know what I mean.
credits
from Chess With HAL,
released August 17, 2016
Alex Dobson - guitars, backing vocals
Clay Graham - vocals, guitars
Jordan Puckett - synths, backing vocals
Seth Short - drums
Austin Warren - bass
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