1. |
St Jude
03:32
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It’s all downhill from eighteen,
There’s just too much to cope with,
Basic responsibilities,
Are enough to wear me down,
I am malfunctioning,
And maladjusted,
Reject the damaged goods,
Back to quality control,
I just need to keep myself distracted,
Watch TV and forget that I’m a lost cause,
I’m waiting for someone to come and get me,
Dismantle and recycle working parts,
I am just another mouth,
A parasite to society,
I have proven myself useless,
Please accept my apology.
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2. |
Recovery position
05:01
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I, I don’t need something,
For the pain,
I deal with it in my own way,
But I, I just need something,
To occupy me,
Something to keep me sane,
I don’t like sleeping for so long,
Today, I heard another message,
Another episode,
We’re going down to the coast,
But I, know it’s irrational,
It couldn’t have happened,
It’s a sign I’m getting close,
I can tell when my mind is fried,
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3. |
Saltpetre
03:28
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|
Whispering,
I know I can do this,
It’s just words,
Sound slipping from lips,
Quietly,
So no one can hear me,
Except her,
There’s only her,
I regret myself and all my genes,
My experiences, thoughts and feelings,
I could wish away everything,
Make sure the slate is clean,
Nothing I have said, nothing I‘ve done,
Has ever led to a love,
I’ve had enough of feeling small,
I want to feel nothing at all,
Easier,
If there was nothing,
No desire,
No sense or feeling,
Neutered... clean,
It would be kinder,
To abstain,
To exempt myself,
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4. |
Quicklime
03:31
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Morpheus, I want to sleep, but not to dream,
I can’t abide to wear my heart upon my sleeve,
I cannot face the memories sowed to my lids,
I need to numb myself to cope anything,
And I feel,
And I feel,
I’m losing crystallinity,
I will burn,
Be consumed,
And swallowed by the Lord’s mercy,
Damn you all, I know I’ve pissed the bed again,
I’m still aware enough to know that rancid stench,
The nurses smile and patronise the senile bitch,
And clean me up just like the feeble invalid that I am,
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5. |
||||
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She does have her lucid moments,
She remembers that I came in before,
She didn’t know my name,
Well, she knew it but she wasn’t sure,
She keeps falling asleep,
She struggles to even talk,
Her voice is so raspy and fragile,
Her mouth is dry and sore,
On her bedside counter,
There’s a paperback with a sticker,
A little seal of approval,
That makes my blood run quicker,
I know she will never read it,
It’s just a thing to be passed on,
There’s a whole lifetime of relics,
Physical echoes of a person,
To be divided amongst her children,
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6. |
Angel wings
03:18
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Fall back into the icy snow,
Wave your arms to make angel wings,
This a moment in a place,
Not important in the grand scheme of things,
Well,
Oh well.
I feel like I like I have failed to capture,
The sort of shit I feel inside,
Another thing that I have failed at,
Add it to a lifelong list, oh aye.
But I never ever stop to wonder,
Why I feel compelled to write,
I guess I’m just fuelled by ego,
Something to leave after I die,
Just stop
I can’t justify myself,
I’m not in a hurry to either,
I know just what I deserve,
To evaporate into the ether,
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7. |
Hell is in the detail
02:22
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I am burning up inside,
I can’t calm myself at all,
‘Cause in my petty mind,
It’s everything, everything,
And I know that you won’t mind,
But it needs to be perfect,
Not a detail out of line,
Or it’s shame on me,
I want to run away,
I’m cracking up inside,
Waiting for your call,
Chewing stale time,
It’s everything, everything,
And you’re not even late,
But I’m wondering where you are,
I’m a crooked picture frame,
And it‘s shame on me,
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8. |
Compos mentis
03:52
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I didn’t come to fight,
I don’t want to make a scene,
But what gives you the right,
To say who can visit?
She’s still compos mentis,
She can decide for herself,
Who she wants to see,
While she has her health,
I don’t want to talk,
There’s nothing left to say,
It’s not up to you,
You can’t control her this way,
She still compos mentis,
During visiting hours,
She sits up and talks,
She knows who I am,
I won’t give you the satisfaction,
I won’t give you the time of day,
I won’t give you another excuse,
To keep acting this way,
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9. |
By inches
02:01
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And on these sunny afternoons,
She finds it hard to swallow food,
And she can’t leave the bed to piss,
What kind of fucking life is this?
They’re trying to keep her comfortable,
But she can’t shift her weight on her own,
Her yellow skin is all marked with sores,
This isn’t fair anymore,
We’re asking too much,
To keep holding on,
She desperately clings,
And dies by inches,
And on these overcast afternoons,
It’s hard to see her through the gloom,
She hardly knows when we are there,
She thinks I’m my dad,
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10. |
||||
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I think of you often,
I love you tonnes,
I want to be,
A good brother,
I want to live,
Just like before,
It needs to be,
Like how it was,
I think of you often,
I love you tonnes,
Not a day goes by,
You don’t cross my mind,
Those “Get well soon!”’s,
Can’t change a thing,
But I can’t tell,
If you know it,
I think of you often,
I love you tonnes,
You’re less a of a sister,
Than a mum,
I think of you often,
I love you tonnes,
I don’t how I’ll cope,
Without you around,
You are the only,
Person left,
That has known me,
For my whole life.
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Chris Ridire Cardiff, UK
Chris Ridire is a lo-fi singer/songwriter from Wexford, Ireland, currently based in Cardiff, UK.
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