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lirik lagu new orleans swim team - maternity

tantalizingly separate
coffee-jerked knees and knotted persian rug
of nauseous nervous shrugs against the people drifting
happy, hurt, but always living
what am i, then?
caught between the therapy and a past i’m not remembering?
why can’t i accept a hand across my back
without trackmarks showing the affect of loves fingers
lacking the strength to break the sh-ll i hate at lengths
and need to keep your image clean
as not to distort the shorted lives
that ran across mine as sharpened knives
the absent mother, the distanced lover
the parts of us that land like b-tterflies
leaving shudders of vultures hundreds of thousands of times their size
wracking me endlessly and leaving me empty
or feeling that way with so much resenting
i’m jumping at corners and hardening masks
painting them thicker with sicker demands
to pull from you a stranger fruit
acceptance through my twisted means
i’ve seen it done
though descended from whatever h-ll they made
of broken gl-ss that tapes itself again
reclaims my past
i’m healing and hurting at the same f-cking pace
writing with an eraser placed her
in the middle of circles and diagrams of what i am
but men of sand don’t last in tides
the chemical rides of new strides in deciding an end
of me, or her…

is this what i want my life to mean?
if you let it go, you let it go
you let it go alone

you found me cut and drawn to lines
the product of some better time

we found our hearts in each other
we found our heart in one another

shaky hands drawing lines in sand so crookedly
she only laughs at me
there’s a reason for it, buried beneath the scores
of crooked bows and dented horns i bore to microphones
and splatter speak. seeking self acceptance
in the folds of syllables describing the life of hers
that mine is firing potshots into
grinned through teeth and bent to fit lists of symptomologies
the subtle critique of culpability written into my life as prodigy
of learning hands fulfilling roles
that my heart still burns, it’s fingers cold
around the flesh that you know is warm, it’s yours
but to me, of course, it’s wires shorted
and h–rded by columbine paradigms
mine is mine. reasons for trying lines
against myself, a reason for hurting
when lurking in memory is the stump of a tree
sinking in mud it made
with the tears shed in shade
under monuments of being much less than i needed to be
to support these fantasies
wrapped in these syllables
re-saying in numerous terms
the problems that never were mine
but were hers

is this what i want my life to mean?
if you let it go, you let it go
you let it go alone

you found me cut and drawn to lines
the product of some better time

we found our hearts in each other
we found our heart in one another

- lirik lagu new orleans swim team

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