lirik lagu chewing on tinfoil - i rarely relate
[intro]
what do you do when you’re feeling numb and emotionally deaf and dumb?
striving for direction and mutual affection
you tried so hard but now your heart is floating like a stone
and someone told me it’s not having the best of anything it’s doing the best with anything that you have
try telling that to an introspective sociopath, who’s substituting unity for a heard mentality
but you’ve already fallen asleep. (oh!)
[verse]
i trip on cobblestones, i’m none too graceful
but so much worse could happen on a night like this so i guess i’m grateful
while the kids dress bright with dim intentions, the price of your life could be a worldly possession
and son they’ve sold you a life since the first day you’re alive, i couldn’t tell you it’s a lie you had to see it with your own eyes. when i was growing up the world was in a different state, survival’s the same game, otherwise, i rarely relate
[chorus]
it’s the same old song
i’ve heard too long
it’s the same old song
i’ve heard too long
and it goes:
“i’m not happy on my own, so i gave up a little too easy this time.”
“i’m not happy on my own, so i gave up a little too easy this time.”
(oh!)
[verse 2]
and you’re screaming so loud till your lungs hit the ceiling, try it again, try it once more with feeling, try it over, try it over, try it over again
i know it may seem like i’m babbling but in my head, it makes such sense, i’m trying to navigate my way through the jungle of existence. there’s no maps or trails to speak of and we burned the history books, we’ll end up where we started until we start lookin’ up
[chorus]
it’s the same old song
i’ve heard too long
it’s the same old song
i’ve heard too long
and it goes:
“i’m not happy on my own, so i gave up a little too easy this time.”
this time, this time
“i’m not happy on my own, so i gave up a little too easy this time.”
“i’m not happy on my own, so i gave up a little too easy this time.”
[outro]
there are no cryptic walls between us, there are no lines between the words and the poet’s segregation seems absurd
there are no oceans in between us, there’s no imagery to cross, sometimes the only thing that’s left to do is talk
sometimes the only thing that’s left to do is talk
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