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New Parts of Me

by Lionizer

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1.
I don't hate you, I just hate that I miss you and those feelings are easily confused. So I'll tell all these people that I don't know every problem you had with all my mistakes, tell them I'm not the person who caused us to break. I'll scream my heart out, and I'll shout my lungs up, 'cos voices were made to be broken and we're not made to be beaten down.
2.
I Dug a Hole 02:58
I'll sit outside every night, and watch all the cars drive by. I'm just hoping to see your headlights. I am still wondering which one of these bad decisions will be the one to kill me. I was born in dirt, clawing at earth trying to dig my way to the surface. You said I was stealing air while I was still struggling for breath. I dug this hole to be happy, and now I only feel empty. But we could cut each other open, and we could share our vital organs. We could share in our destruction tonight, but we're never brave enough. I will stop walking into traffic. I will stop tying knots around my neck. I am struggling to let go of this gun against my head cos I just wanted to stand in the same light that you have been growing in your whole life.
3.
On this little blue couch we'll sit and talk to the early hours of all the things that we have given up like sleeping, food, a stable paying job, the ones we always struggle to let go of. On the front corner of this former student home that we will never afford to own, we'll hold each other together until we fall apart, covered in cuts, bruises and scars. We may be cold and sure we're broke, but we're drunk and fuck we're happy to lean on strangers and call it family. This place finally feels like a home to me. I would share my creaking borrowed bed with anyone who needed it, in exchange for my poor body heat. Of all the things that we keep giving up, the damage we keep doing to our lungs, the best life choices are always the worst for us. We may be cold and sure we're broke, but we're drunk and fuck we're happy to lean on strangers and call it family. A different name used for the same thing but this place finally feels like a home to me. You bring me home.
4.
I lost my heart the night you lost your stomach lining on the cracked up bathroom floor, and as I lost all sense of feeling I lay next to you staring up at the ceiling, it was spinning, but after all my mind was made up - I'm staying here tonight. My head won't stop spinning, and maybe it's the scotch, or maybe it's the smoke that fills the lining of my lungs. But there's nothing more to this, than the all-to-familiar twist, so turn the lights off I don't need to see your face. You'll be mine, at least until I sober up. Our bodies collide deep into the night as we convince each other that we're doing fine. I've never felt this alive, your body heat is all I need between these torn up sheets, the breath you leave on my naked skin is ohhh. My head won't stop swimming, and maybe it's the scotch, or maybe it's the smoke that fills the lining of my lungs. But maybe there's more more to this, than the all-to-familiar twist, so turn the lights on I want to see that spark in your eye. I'm not afraid to admit that I want more than this. I'm not afraid to admit I want more than just a twist. Another night, another bed, I'll just add it my sleep debt.
5.
I make change, but I don't know how to fix my self-esteem or my broken perspective, my reflection, my silhouette, or how my voice sounds when I pull words from it. I feel slow, boring and unproductive - cut up without a single scar to even show it. Is it over? Is it in yet? I don't know but I'll act like I enjoy it. I am ready. I am ready to hate new parts of me and I am ready to break bones and cut arteries. I am ready, and I don't know. There's not a light left in this house that hasn't broken or burned down. My body, my broken ground, got everything I want why can't I just be happy now? I don't know, but I am ready. I am ready to hate new parts of me and I am ready to break bones and cut arteries. I don't know.
6.
Nothing beats that feeling you get like smoking after meaningless sex, or the sudden realisation that your fucked up generation is built on social validation and the sudden rush from friend requests. I need this like a hole in my head, like I need cancer, or for you to come and break my legs. But I drowned all my other problems in the bottom of a bottle now these violent delights have violent ends. I've been waiting I've been waiting, so call me out. Cut my brakes and watch me struggle to slow down. Just broken bones, just crooked limbs, make me something someone can believe in. My words are wasted in a whisper, but they're all that I've got left after years of quietly screaming at the crowd inside my head. I can never quite force the sound to leave my mouth. But I'm done with being weak, I want to feel lethal. So god make me indestructible 'cos I am ready to be baptised. I am ready to start my new life.
7.
Woke up feeling like I've been crying in my sleep again. I'm chewing on all these insecurities, I've got a mouthful of other peoples opinions. I swallowed all of their expectations, another failure of an artist trading insincerity for all of these fucking false harmonies. But we don't have to let it, so let's not let it fuck everything up for us. I'll keep singing the same old songs and I'll keep playing the same old chords, it's always other peoples words that describe my feelings better than my own. But we're making money, and we're spending money on things we don't really need or want, we're buying all the things that fuck with us. But we don't have to let it, so let's not let it fuck everything up for us. Nah nah nah nah nah.
8.
The oxygen in this room is wearing thin, I'm losing air while eight other thieves are breathing in. There's only so long you can fend off loneliness, only so many ways to squeeze two frames in one bunk bed. Everyone always gets it wrong, gets it wrong, anyway. It's been so long since I wrote anything that meant anything, so long since I had something to say. I could dissolve into this mattress or seep into these walls and you would all forget my name. Everyone always gets it wrong, gets it wrong, anyway. You are the words I can't create, you are the chords that I can't reach, you are the stilted pause before the sight of relief. We're just playing opposites out on different continents. You're waking up as I sleep, I'm waking up as you sleep.
9.
The Unartist 03:22
I heard you whisper that you were happy once, surely there are better ways to bore myself than thinking about what you're thinking about. But I will judge you by your personalised, misspelled number plate, like you judge me for the songs I sing and all the mistakes I made. This is the one I'll sing up on the stage. I will wear my insecurities on my sleeve, you can trace the outline and tattoo them on my skin. They're not permanent but I would rather not forget them. I heard you crying that you need to leave, that you need to get out of my life. I know that I got to stop writing you songs, I should leave you on the shelf where you belong. But I never want to write when I'm alone, I want to tear these pages out. Of all the songs you never read and never sung and never even heard about, this is the one I'll sing up on the stage. I am proud, and I don't give a shit. I am a plagiarist, con-artist. You're the one still listening to this, I am the unartist, you're the hypocrite. So go write your song, 'cos I'm done singing for you.
10.
These words weren't written with you in mind but rather the way I came to divide all my things into boxes. I've perfected these old ways to tessellate all my belongings into new shared living spaces, smiling at the time we've wasted hanging out the back of your house. My postcodes they just keep on changing like the rooms that I keep rearranging. Stressed myself into this mess, strayed and frayed, starved half to death. There's just not enough of me left. I'll scream these same sad songs for far too long, just tied lines repeated rhymes fueled by a fear of getting older. As I slowly sit here wasting time I've finally come to realise there's just not enough of me left. I'm running out of breath. I'm running out of breath. I'm running out of breath. I'm running.

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CDs and cassettes available via Whisk and Key Records - www.whiskandkeyrecords.com/store

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released October 17, 2017

Vez Litten / Guitar, Vocals
Bailey Lions / Drums
Cliff Wieczorek / Bass

Released via Whisk and Key Records
Recorded at Brainiac Studios
Mixed - Michael Strong
Master - Cliff Wieczorek

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Lionizer Perth, Australia

Unfuck your life.

More queer than your first girlfriend and more feels than a dropped avocado - Perth indie punk trio Lionizer bring out snarky and introspective lyrics, mixed with their unique blend of 90s riffs, indie beats and cutting melodies. ... more

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