King of Minneapolis, Pt. I & II
We got a bottle of Jim Beam and I drank a liter.
To distract me from my constant overthinking I need a breather.
You built this up your head. The pressure.
Relax, don't think too much 'cause you can't take this.
Well, I relaxed with liquor.
The pressure has gone away, but baby, I can't see shit.
It's not the same to me when falling on my face.
I finally drank myself to death.
Enter the shaking, maaan, I shoulda eaten something. Enter the crying.
"My life is useless and I won't amount to nothing." Better start dying.
You built this up your head. The pressure.
Relax, don't think too much 'cause you can't take this.
Well, I relaxed with liquor.
The pressure has gone away, but baby, I can't see shit.
It's not the same to me when falling on my face.
Wrap me up in sheets, there's nothing left to see her.
I should be old enough to know (better better)
and I SHOULD be young enough to not take everything so seriously
SHOULD be smart enough to know that doing this is dangerous
this mixing anxious energy with drunk ferocious carelessness.
I finally drank myself to death.
It's turned to laughs.
I'm turning red outside on Cedar St.
It's twenty-two degrees.
I'm screaming "M-I-N-N-E-A-P-O-L-I-S CAN KISS MY ASS IN HELL"
I've built you up in my head and now you've started a war in my head.
Get me a friend or a smoke or a hospital or a suicide pill.
Get me a million dollar record deal so I can end this charade.
I've been writing the same song over again, over again, over again.
Over and over and over and over again.
And it feels like heroin.
I just got addicted to demanding your attention for my trite repetition.
And I can't stop thinking about the first songs I ever wrote
Where I swore off alcohol 'cause I knew better.
And I can't stop feeling like that "straight edge" shit became a cult
But I'm kidding myself by believing that the bar scene is any better.
And I keep writing the same damn song over again and over again and over again.
And it feels like there's nothing left at all
To distract me from my constant overthinking I need a breather.
You built this up your head. The pressure.
Relax, don't think too much 'cause you can't take this.
Well, I relaxed with liquor.
The pressure has gone away, but baby, I can't see shit.
It's not the same to me when falling on my face.
I finally drank myself to death.
Enter the shaking, maaan, I shoulda eaten something. Enter the crying.
"My life is useless and I won't amount to nothing." Better start dying.
You built this up your head. The pressure.
Relax, don't think too much 'cause you can't take this.
Well, I relaxed with liquor.
The pressure has gone away, but baby, I can't see shit.
It's not the same to me when falling on my face.
Wrap me up in sheets, there's nothing left to see her.
I should be old enough to know (better better)
and I SHOULD be young enough to not take everything so seriously
SHOULD be smart enough to know that doing this is dangerous
this mixing anxious energy with drunk ferocious carelessness.
I finally drank myself to death.
It's turned to laughs.
I'm turning red outside on Cedar St.
It's twenty-two degrees.
I'm screaming "M-I-N-N-E-A-P-O-L-I-S CAN KISS MY ASS IN HELL"
I've built you up in my head and now you've started a war in my head.
Get me a friend or a smoke or a hospital or a suicide pill.
Get me a million dollar record deal so I can end this charade.
I've been writing the same song over again, over again, over again.
Over and over and over and over again.
And it feels like heroin.
I just got addicted to demanding your attention for my trite repetition.
And I can't stop thinking about the first songs I ever wrote
Where I swore off alcohol 'cause I knew better.
And I can't stop feeling like that "straight edge" shit became a cult
But I'm kidding myself by believing that the bar scene is any better.
And I keep writing the same damn song over again and over again and over again.
And it feels like there's nothing left at all
Credits
Writer(s): Jeffrey Rosenstock
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
- Old and Unprofessional
- King of Minneapolis, Pt. I & II
- Even Winning Feels Bad
- Side Projects are Never Successful
- 5 Funerals
- My Response to an Article in Alternative Press
- Sorry, Brooklyn, Dancing Won't Solve Anything
- It's Official! We're Borrrrring!
- From Martyrdom to Startyrdom
- All Alone in My Big Empty Apartment
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