by a bathtile green

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songs i wrote and recorded this january. i will do an ep a month.


released February 3, 2013



all rights reserved


a bathtile green Asheville, North Carolina

songs about nothing

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Track Name: reaching into the void to reclaim alost imagination only to end with a handful of cobwebs and gray hairs
With the sun shining on our heads
We weaved narratives
Filled with brilliant imagery and plot twists.
Crawling under the church pews
-the polished wood exhaled softly-
we drew creatures you would never believe.
With hand-me-downs action figures
Battling over pillow forts
We created fantastically vivid worlds
With puppet governments, romance, sacrifice
And deceit;
Stories of rebellion/unbridled youth.

I’m filling my head with smoke.
Oh it was already quite clouded.
What a murky barren waste
My mind has become.
Thought this would give me inspiration.
Words and phrases.
We used to think nothing of it.
Our beautiful places.

So lets numb ourselves to our past.
We won’t remember being better and thinking fast.

Fantasy means nothing to me
I truly think if I met me
I’d hate what’s in store.

As these words hit paper
The thought strikes
That I could/should write something better
Or maybe I can’t anymore more.
Track Name: towel song
you hung me up like a towel on a rack.
bending me over backwards, listening to my spine crack.
i didn't mind.
that i should remember one night
wishing our bodies would collide.
it happens so easily.
time didnt take its time this time
theres no such thing as a second chance at a second chance
and i shouldn't have taken that first glance.
i will not leave my room for weeks. i will not plan my return. i will not text you back. i'll get lost miss my train watch my youth slip away.
Track Name: goal mine
We were all staying up late
In the waiting room
Waiting for you to wake up.

Sometimes sleep’s what you need
But it don’t mean a thing
When you can’t dream. We’ve waited long enough.

So we’ll all be back in the morning
To tie a balloon on
The foot of your bed.

Maybe it’ll add some color
To the walls.
Maybe it’ll balance your head.

I hope you find a calm place.
A friendly shore.
With birds calling out
Warning of storms.
And if you’re a canary
And this place is a coal mine,
I’ll do my best to get out
In time.

Its no different than when they found me by the river
Bled out,
Dried out,
Worn out,
And passed out.
I hope you come back in.