A is for anarchy and B is for both the birds and the bees and C is for all the crappiest parts of my personality and D is for something I’m self-conscious of, and it’s hanging from my body and E is for the person I hate the most: his name is everybody and F is for the frogs that I used to kill out in the pond and G is for my grandma, cause I miss her and H is the first letter in the name of the place I’ll go when i die and I is my least favorite letter Cause a seven inch record and a microwave will get me through the day and the thought of my heading off to camp will get me through the month of May but if I find out sometime this year that I will never see you again then come twenty-fourteen you can count on me being dead dead dead dead dead dead dead

In fifth grade, the teachers showed us a video that told us what it means to grow up In seventh grade, my friends showed me that I had some catching up to do In ninth grade, I didn’t react the way I should have when I saw naked people on the internet And now I’m nineteen and not at all sure what’s wr-wr-wr-wr-wrong with me My friends are incessantly suggesting I should go to therapy They say they make weekly visits there and it’s totally free I trust em, though I don’t think it’s quite right for me The weekend that both my roommates spent time at home was a weird three days for us all One came back from upstate with a girlfriend, the other came back from Long Island single During that time, I laid wide awake, five hours into the next day Wondering how I would approach those close to me, wondering what I would say I crossed some borders and grew my hair but I think I need more change The clothes I wear don’t always fit but my weight stays the same Don’t hold your breath, I’m holding out for one more half a year until I can say with confidence: “Hey Mom and Dad, guess what? I’m….

I don’t know where my friends are, they could be in Rhode Island though you can never really be too sure It already feels weird now that they’re not around but I could never stop them from seeing more of this country that we claim to hate, this capitalist hell makes my muscles ache but the trains will keep running, at least for your sake, until every single pain you have fades away I’m sorry that we never got matching stick n pokes in your room before you left I honestly feel a tad bit guilty bout that If I never see you again in front of city hall I’ll get one in your honor Will it be silly? Yes! Will it be pointless? Yes! And that’s the only way you’d want it Will it be silly? Yes! Will it be pointless? Yes! And that’s the only way you’d want it Ten months later, you’re alive and well You’re changing the landscape to look less like hell Meanwhile, I’m living on our enemy’s soil until I get delivered back to the place where nobody calls my car “a piece of shit” and people scheme behind car dealerships I honestly think that over time it’s getting better, it’s getting better

I am done with you. I should’ve listened to my gut, better yet, my lungs, when we first started hanging out, cause if I listened to them, we would have never hung out. You’re a good time rolled up into a silent killer, I’ll admit it, you’re much better than blowing crushed-up pills, or any of those fucked up drugs my dad still warns me of. But I can’t keep living like this. You’ve killed off old relatives with no remorse, no respect for mankind, you make breathing hurt while putting the hearse on speed-dial. Get it? Die-al? Whatever. What I’m trying to say is, you’re a terrible thing to have to mind. Honestly, how I can discuss the merits of anti-capitalism while I’m figuratively and literally sucking the fumes of exploitation and death down my throat? Is this a sick fucking joke? I won’t make this about class and I won’t say that I’m broke, though I think for some of us, a brand of liberation is in store once we stop stopping by the drug store to pick up a brand of cancer and confrontation, by whatever means necessary. While I enjoy the sweet smell of summer nights and the mental image of all our mutual friends, and your liberal providing of both of them, when it comes down to it, I do not like you. Keep in mind, this issue is more personal than anything. Some people need a break in their day, a break from the nonsense, and if it takes a smoke to “get away from it all”, then go for it. Body autonomy and all, you know? But when it comes to this body, you will never again kiss (read: singe) these lips with your lies that promise a vaguely positive outcome, but instead deliver yellower teeth and an earlier funeral. I’m telling you, some friendships last forever, but this one’s not one of them. We’re over, for real.

This chapter of my life is coming to a close I started off a lover of music and I ended up with a bit more black clothes Who knows where I’ll spend the next few years?I guess we’ll see It’s a shame these songs were so self-indulgent but I’m the only thing that makes sense to me See, I wasted the past four years on the fucking internet It’s the reason why I’m so thankful for those who are willing to call me their friend At the end of the day, the primitivists will be right Electricity and society and industrialization will fade into the night You know that turning off your MacBook would be like leaving your scene Crucify your one true god with a combat boot right to the screen Keyboards can’t hold memories and microprocessors don’t know how to make you laugh so hard that whatever you’re drinking shoots right out your nose The things I love about my life do not stem from zeroes and ones And if I was a betting man, I’d bet the bottom of my laptop couldn’t keep me half as warm as your hand I was a better man, but those days are gone and my room is spinning I don’t live near a fault line and I haven’t been drinking It’s the silly things like these that really keep me thinking about how People who live fulfilling lives don’t have blood pouring out of their eyes

Hey Bruce remember Mike well he’s finally free I suppose the state musta hooked him up with a competent attorney it’ll take a couple years for him to get back on his feet but this will be a fresh start for him to stay off the streets Hey Bruce remember Mike well he got sent back to the pen they druudged up some old warrants he earned when he was living in thompson this is the third strike, the straw that broke the camel’s back in this case, the camel is a forgiving uncle with a checkbook and I don’t know when he will see the light of day

Even though I’ve already met you I still have nothing to do in this town, I sit around, all day, wasting my time, you only live once, they say, you live until you die. Well, after much analysis, I’ve concluded that I’m already dead. I’d appreciate it if you hung out in my bed until we rot When we are together, we’re like baking soda and vinegar Without your company, I am boring as hell At this point, that shouldn’t be too hard to tell This world can be so ugly but it’s not when I’m with you That’s a sentiment expressed by blink-182 and for the first time in forever, I might be a little bummed out come the summer, but I promise I won’t forget your face when the heat wave comes. Yeah, I promise I won’t forget your face when the heat wave come I have no right to be mad I’ll smash mad with a hammer, and with the pieces I’ll form sad We can march down to the mall after the guards go home and burn every fedora that they have yeah we can burn every fedora that they have

G Em/F A slice of pizza isn’t breakfast and a snack is not a cigarette, C D7 a push-up’s not a marathon, the Internet is a not a friend G Em/F This dorm room’s not a party and this college ain’t a city C D7 Not everything you say or do must qualify as “filthy” G Em/F When I watch Walter White whip up large quantities of meth C D7 It makes me feel a little better riding the superhighway to death G Em/F This desk is cluttered with medicine and pins and paper and keys C D7 When I overdose on Netflix that’s how they’ll remember me G Em/F An unorganized pseudo-misanthrope C D7 who showered once a year G Em/F Can you hear the screams shooting out of my hair, saying C D7 “get me the heck outta here” C D7 G Em/F and I know that everything won’t be alright if I keep writing songs all sound the C D7 G Em/F same, and I know that everything won’t be alright if I can’t decide how I feel about my C D7 G Em/F name, and I know the future’s gonna suck just as long as you aren’t C D7 G in it. If my life becomes a movie, i’ll surely lose the ticket (((((Gx4 - Bb - A))))))) x 2 G I’ll dye my hair so it matches that Boris album cover Em/F but I won’t ever put any rings in my nose cause I’d never wanna upset my mother C Simply put, I’m a nervous wreck who will scare off people I’ll consider lovers D7 there’s no reason to explore New York when most of Yoshi’s Island remains undiscovered C D7 G Em/F The risks I wanna take will put me in jail, or worse, I’ll get shipped off to the Prison of C D7 G Em/F Remorse. This body’s been dead for a while already, my brain has a license and it’s driving a C D7 G Em/F hearse. I’ve never uttered an honest word and I don’t care about my image, but I C D7 G totally have and I totally do C D7 Em/F I totally have and I totally do C D7 G I totally have and I totally do

trying is too hard it only equals stress the days that i spend on my ass are the days that i love best work? QUIT school? QUIT the sooner that you quit the better it will get sometimes i just want to quit everything

C Am F G If you invaded my boundaries and asked “what’s the best way C Am F G to describe yourself?” I’d respond with “I’m a big bag of clay C Am F G I’m sensitive as hell, and I curse when I’m nervous, C G C Please leave me here to die. C Am F G Cause I hate the twenty-eleven version of myself C Am F G and the twenty-eleven version of me hated me then too C Am F G With any luck, this shaving cut will end it all right now C G C but I don’t have the money if John Darnielle sues F Am The longer I keep singing, the more fragmented these songs get C G C But the less that I keep this up, the closer I am to the end C Am F G If you invaded my boundaries and asked “what’s the best way C Am F G to describe your smell?” I’d respond with “I smell like my room C Am F G and my room has a cabinet, and the cabinet has some tapes C G C and those tapes all smell like shit C Am F G Cause I hate the twenty-fourteen version of life C Am F G It’s negi negi lyrics over ironic posi chords C Am F G With any luck, I’ll lie and contradict myself simultaneously C G I’ll tell the people who are worried, C G “There’s no need to worry C G C The noises I make are just words” F Am The longer I keep singing, the more fragmented these songs get C G C But the less that I keep this up, the closer I am to the end

you can feed your face with a big food feast you can wear your favorite sweater you can stay up all night reading comic books but it dont always make life better for as long as i can remember, i’ve always needed people around they could be strangers from a foreign land or friends from my hometown i get restless and depressed and cranky, bothered, brash, and bitter when there’s nobody around cause they help me forget about the future being by myself is bad, i eat like crap, i get nothing done i’d rather be lonely in public than twiddling my thumbs in solitude with an attitude with nobody in sight living life is like navigating through pitchblack caves but human faces are flashlights at the risk of bringing back old adages and reviving old cliches i’ll reaffirm that it’s the little things that assist us through our days that’s why i talk like the the government will soon ban the spoken word i want to make the most of this throat of mine, i want to use these vocal chords to connect to random people that i bump into at a show i’ll probably never see them again, but i guess i’ll never know if human contact was edible, a tangible object that has nutrition a party is like a Sunday brunch and a punk show is like Thanksgiving i’ll shoot the breeze with you and your grandma and your best friend and your dentist i’ll ask about your travels or your religion or your favorite band’s most frequent setlist if you don’t like it, i’ll shup up and find somebody new who will put up with all the conversational topics that i spew i hope people continue sinning on this earth like no tomorrow cause that’ll mean in eighty years hell will have more people i can talk to to distract me from the eternal burning and the flames that char my skin i’ll be that guy who keeps starting icebreakers in hell by saying “what’s up man” “how’d you get here in the first place? what so aggravated God on high that he sent you down here to perish for eternity while way up in the sky the angels sing the praises of God and his one true begotten son I didn’t think this place was real, let’s at least try to have some fun” and the other sinners will exile me from the epitome of exiled misery no one will want me in their general vicinity if i hated long conversations than i’d probably agree talking enhances suffering for everybody except me