i lost everything here

by anchorage

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1.
01:40
2.
02:16
3.
03:11
4.
04:01
5.
03:14
6.
04:52

about

a collection of stories about the past year and a half of my life. take what you will from it.

thank you for listening, purchasing, recommending to friends and family, etc. it means the literal world to me.

credits

released October 31, 2015

all credit for this album goes to myself.

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all rights reserved

about

anchorage Victoria, British Columbia

a sad, angry boy making sad, angry music.

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Track Name: helpless
drunk, and stumbling along a sidewalk alone,
i left my friend's house to call you, but i know you're not home,

and god only knows the twisted words left on your breath,
with six people's spit, and a cheap pack of cigarettes.

and i guess i'll end up alone,
and you'll find someone to walk you home,
i'll toss and turn as you haunt my head,
and you'll scream and beg in your unmade, crowded bed.

zach's passed out again, and it's only a quarter after nine,
i'm pretty drunk and you're on my mind; i don't feel fine.

trembling at the thought of saying everything all wrong,
i'm in the middle of a message, even though you're long gone.

and i guess i'll sleep alone,
and you'll wake the neighbors with every moan,
and i'll blame you leaving on myself,
while you off fucking somebody else,
Track Name: selfish
i've gotten bitter, again,
i'm losing blood flow at both ends,
getting used to the words, 'pretend',
'goodbye', 'amends', 'just friends',

i'm getting used to it,
all this inevitable bullshit,
i've had it,

overwhelming, overbearing,
undersleeping and underappreciating
every moment spent on your unmade bed,
every second spent lost inside your head,

and i'm dead from the inside out,
i'm spinning in circles, i'm dizzy with the doubt
that i'll ever see your face again,
and if i do, we'll simply be friends,

there's nothing more to this
than his hands on your hips,
and i bet you're locking lips,
i guess that makes me selfish.
Track Name: epilogue
i've scratched at my skin and slapped myself in the face
more times than i'd like to admit
but there's no waking from this nightmare;
you left like the rest,
and you told me we'd be together until death;
these empty promises have fallen to my feet. and i'm just too tired to pick up all these pieces,
and so are you;
and darling, you said we were meant to be,
you said you'd never leave,
well it's been a long while
since you've checked up on me,
and i can't say i'm doing better,
and i feel so cold in this april weather,
and i'm wearing the sweater
you loved so much,
fuck, i miss your touch
against my calloused skin,
i wish i would have let you in
sooner than i did,
i miss living inside your head
as you lay down to sleep in your half empty bed with eyelids made of lead,
and darling, i just wish i was dead most nights;
i remember every word you said
in moments spent laying on my trembling chest,
and you loved me more than the rest,
i loved you more than the rest,
but that was before,
i was such a fucking bore;
i talked your ear to the floor
and you lost everything we worked for,
was it a connection or a forced invention
created under this distant tension?
i don't know anymore
but it's obvious we've hit regression,
and this lovers pension
is dried up and broken
more than the only question:

where did your love for me go?
when did your heartbeat slow?
have you cut your hair yet
or are you letting it grow?
oh, who the hell even knows;

we don't talk, but i'll stop writing
if that's what you want from me,
i'll never meet your eyes with mine,
and i'll never lay with you again
to watch the sky,
and as we come down
from this beautifully tragic high,
i just wish i would die.

where did your love for me go?
when did your heartbeat slow?
have you cut your hair yet
or are you letting it grow?
oh, who the hell even knows.

//
Track Name: quiet (ian)
you left me for this? some abusive bullshit? he'll have another tantrum, another fit; i'm sure he'll find another wall to put a hole in.

and that's the way the story goes, every god damn time; but that's not the way the story goes inside of your mind, it's just not right.

it's not out of love; there should never be a push coming to shove. that's not what a man is made of. he'll leave another bruise on your back, so you can't see what he clearly lacks; his hold held right down to your bones, broken and alone, you don't know where to call home anymore.

fuck that piece of parasitic scum worth less that the spit on the tip of my tongue; you've become so quiet.

that's not what a man is made of; pick yourself up off the ground and get out. get on a bus and get the fuck out of town, leave him and never turn around.

you've become so quiet, what's the point if you're just gunna deny it?
you've become so quiet, speak up sometime, let's get by this.

you've become so quiet.
Track Name: august 16th
i love the way you smoke your cigarettes; hair curled beneath your fingertips, 'no, i don't want you to go yet;' i love the way you whisper my name across your tongue, i'll refrain from saying all the things burning up in my veins.

so put it out, put me out, i'll walk down the street with my head buried into the ground; and i'll see you in a couple weeks, as i wait here patiently for nothing, probably; i'll see you soon, but until then, i'll just sing this sad tune, alone, without showing you.

i hate the way you smoke your cigarettes; without regret, it's all you got left, i pray to nothing you'll make it 'til the next breath; i hate the way you whisper my name, across the sink, oh, i'm to blame for every mess you've painted with the blood boiling in your aching veins.

you put it out, you put yourself out; you walked down the street and you crossed without turning around; and i'll see you in a couple weeks
about six feet deep, i hope you're somewhere sleeping peacefully.

i'll see you soon, but until then, i'll be darker than your bedroom, constantly wishing i was laying next to you.
Track Name: 2519
the burn in the back of my throat from the courage i swallowed isn't anything i thought it'd be; i'm in the corner, and its like you never knew me, and his hand runs down your neck, and i slam the door and find a home in the steps with a cigarette as he gets into your head, and you follow him up the stairs to his bed; and i'll tear at my hair until there's nothing left, just to numb the thought of you fucking him over, just like you did to me; never promise that you'll never leave, like you left me on that lonely side street, in front of a house made of empty concrete finality, and now you're sharing sheets; you'd always want company, but not with me anymore.

i feel the drugs in the confines of skin begin to wear at veins already worn thin with the overwhelming abandonment, and the longing for things that'll never happen again; i'll just make things up in my head so what i've seen isn't what i believe, i'll pretend that i never saw you kissing him, convincing myself you respect the broken boy i've become enough, i've become so numb to the pain in my gut and the tip of my tongue that i bite just so you can have your fun; i'll find someone else, i'm not the one for you anymore.

make sure you lock the bedroom door, i cant stand to see your face anymore; keep me the fuck away, maybe after a while, i'll be okay. just give me some fucking space; give me some time to take things into perspective, in retrospect, i should've been the one who up and left.

if you're gonna fuck my friends, at least wait until you're dead to me; so go on and just fucking leave. if you're gonna fuck my friends, at least wait until you're six feet deep in the regrets that i buried.

i found a home in the steps with empty cigarettes; just another sunset, and a little less bliss; so i guess i'll give you one last kiss..

one last weary kiss.