Everything is stupid + I Hate it

by coping skills

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about

VRS003

Pay what you want digital download here: copingskills.bandcamp.com/album/everything-is-stupid-i-hate-it

Run of 50 on purple tinted cassettes.

Originally released June 30, 2015 at copingskills.bandcamp.com

credits

released December 9, 2015

Album photograph by Jessica Lim
Recorded (mostly) at Milhouse by coping skills

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Viridian Sounds Tallahassee, Florida

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Track Name: Happy Hour at Mad Mex
you don't really want me until your life gets boring
and i don't really need you the way that i pretend to

two days till you call me up again
three more hours, you're in my bed
four months later you'll move out west
if i don't answer, it's for the best
on and off again, the endless routine
an apparition crashing all my dreams
to remind me that you'll never stay
why, oh why, won't you go away

"don't get serious, don't get attached
i'm gonna leave and never come back"
a hollow threat kept on repeat
but you still live right down the street
empty promises come as no surprise
tequila spills secrets you'd rather hide
drunk confession to my collarbone
claims you're gonna miss me but you're all alone

because you don't really want me until your life gets boring
and i don't really need you the way that i pretend to

don't get serious, don't get attached
i hope you leave and never come back
Track Name: Message Send Failure
city wides till i'm teary eyed
beneath florescent lights on 9th street
don't know where you are
you don't think of me
don't know where you've been for weeks

whiskey flows down my throat like holy water
hell bent on your resurrection

your name in bold above those three words
that keep us apart

you're one of the worst things i ever let happen to me

all my best friends wish themselves dead
this week i don't blame them
this week i'm right there with them

you're one of the worst things i ever let happen to me
Track Name: I Don't Feel Good About This
that summer my hair was six different colors
you told me you had found another
person you wanted to call your lover
but still found your way beneath my covers

i bet you still spend all your nights
with milwaukee's finest, pounding back pints
the recycling bin filled with the only blue ribbons
you've earned your whole life

the entire bathtub soaked in bleach
but my skin still won't come clean
tainted in the spots you've touched
scrub and scrub, raw, bleeding, and rough

cover it up under another's design
pretend there's nothing left to hide
like the space where your stomach curved
around my spine
or the place where your hips slipped
and fit into mine

you'll do your best not to get drunk and call me
i'll do my best not to answer