1. |
Wallet Loser
02:06
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well i'm a wallet loser ten minutes late
i locked my keys inside my car
i tell my clock to snooze & i masturbate while the weeds grow
tall in my yard
i can honestly appreciate the virtue of working hard
but it's a slow surmise
& it's a small escape that keeps pulling on my heart
& i know i'm gonna feel it later
when it bites me in the ass
the scars were scabbing over so i picked them
game over
now someone's gonna clean up the mess
well i'm that thing of soup in the back of your fridge
that nobody wants to touch
& i'm a pile of clothes
i'm a dirty dish that you left because it was all too much
& i'd sure like to be different
dependable & strong
but every hour that I waste feels safe so i call it home
I know I'm gonna feel it later
When it bites me in the ass
But the scars are scanning over
I picked it
Game over
It's a ruby red panic attack
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2. |
Apprehensive Lake
03:24
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if i could lay a finger on what it is that makes me feel
the way i do when i am sitting with her on the floor
cutting paper in my room
then i would sing it slowly like a lullaby
but it's gonna take some time to get to knowing
all the reasons why i like you like i do
but i like you
i do
if i could stay in your orbit
i'd sail around your sun
but its all just wax and feathers
when the day is done i free-fall and drown in apprehensive lake
and i don't know if i can reach the shoreline
oh god!
there's something pulling on my leg!
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3. |
Make Up My Mind
05:24
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I wanna be where you are
(whatever that means)
Put me up in the sky or in a water spring
& if you're into a necklace I'd buy me a chain
They say that I'd live forever but I don't know if much would change
So I build me an alter
& I lead paint it gold
& I fill up my lungs
With incense & smoke
& when you ask what I'm doing I'll just run and hide
Pretend to sleep when you walk in the room so I never have to try
I believe (I guess) all the stories I read
So I write you a letter & hold it over my head
I'm too ashamed right now to look you in the eye
God I just pray somehow that you would make up my mind
& it's a bug in my conscience
When she's there at your feet
& I'm washing the dishes
While you're sitting down to eat
It's just that you seem different
When you say that you don't change
God there must be something I'm missing
Like why I don't need what you let me chase
&
I believe (I guess) all the stories I read
So I write you a letter & hold it over my head
I'm too ashamed right now to look you in the eye
So God I just pray somehow
That you would make up my mind
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4. |
Film Class
02:44
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We met in film class at my hometown community college
I grew my hair out and a mustache but I couldn't be honest
You were the only friend I had
I lost your number and that makes me feel bad
You're back in France now
I moved off to Tennessee
I still think about you sometimes when I watch TV
I wonder what you'd say about "The French Dispatch"
I'd like to ask you but those days are past
I hope you're well off
I hope that you're doing fine
Listen to Mac Demarco and tell your friends about that time
You came to Greenville and asked if I could drive you home
We shared a waffle and became un-alone
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5. |
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Well you met me this summer in a bed by the coast
So I wrote on a mirror all that you spoke
And I saw in a picture my best friend and yours
In a river fishing together
Confluence of emotion all in the fog
A loss of direction and a salient flaw
A lack of motivation to pick up the call
And I reckon that’s what’s the matter
So I slowly grow tired of my god of my ghost
So I sell him to pay off the debts that have grown
From the ground where I’m from and where I’ll be again
I’m running and lacking purpose
I could sell my possesions could make it alright
I could roadtrip to your house in the back of my mind
I could lace you in temerance the treachorous lie
So sweet the water’s stolen
Come and see me this summer I’ll be up in the hills
And I’ll wait for your visit patient and still
Just be honest and friendly ‘cause I’m often scared
By love that’s bigger than I can handle
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Sawyer Norman Greenville, South Carolina
Introspective and earnest, Sawyer Norman has an old head on his shoulders and likes to ruminate on faith, growing up, and
love lost and found. He’s not one to wag his acumen in your face, though. His understated jams are handled with tenderness and even a dash of humor. He’s folk-rock's humblest sweetheart, and he’s glad you’ve decided to stop by.
-A heartfelt endorsement by Jackson Lyda
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