I wrote this song in a laundromat. Or I would have, if I ever went to laundromats.
vocals, detuned glued-together dumpster guitar: Zach Bardon
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Actually, I recorded this long, long ago on my first ever guitar which I found broken in half in a dumpster, and glued back together with regular old wood glue. I only recently added lyrics/melody/vocals. I plan on adding a "laundromat" background sound whenever I can figure out how to convincingly record a laundromat.
Special thanks to the amazing Professor William Barnes for provoking me to think about the usefulness and appropriateness of laments.
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You know my heart it is so weary
A heavy burden's in my soul
I've got a millstone in my ribcage
Every place I've been don't feel like home
Tell me something good
Or don't say anything
The world's so full of noisy things
So loud I can barely think
People going just to come again
Never know who'll stay and who'll leave
Tell me something good
Or don't say anything
I'm so tired of being used for things
I'm sick at heart of people's lies
If you want to fit you've gotta play the game
You've gotta fake it to get by
Tell me something good
Or don't say anything
If you can't say something good
Don't say anything
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