Insound Tour Support ep:

(these are only the jypu songs)

Seattle, WA (written by Owen Ashworth)
It’s always tight at the end of the month.
Until that check comes, there’s nothing for lunch.
I’m sick of all my stuff being halfway broke.
Too tired to pretend that I’m not sick of my friends.
Some days I’m sorry that I ever moved here.
Some days I think about moving back in with my folks.
Some days I think about moving up north, where rent is cheaper and I can have a house and porch to watch the rain, walk out in the rain, stand under the rain, and let Seattle wash me.

The Conversation Stalls
I’m not tired, I could still go out. I’m not obligated by the morning sun.
If we drink enough, we’ll be acting tough. We’ll laugh the loudest.
Let’s see them try and stop us. We could talk about the boys you know, a lover’s wink. And if the conversation stalls, we’ll get another drink.
I’m not opposed to never seeing you again after tonight. It’s the perfect ending to the perfect friendship that never quite began. We never quite began.
Oh, the keys to every car you’ve crashed, a faceless mob of people smashing windows on the boulevard over the fence from your backyard.
The billy clubs and pepper spray, you grabbed his belt and made his day.
With burning eyes and oily tears, we said goodbye, same time next year.
I apologize for everything.

Birthday Cake
Let’s go out tonight. I feel like picking a fight.
I feel like starting a brawl and then slipping out the back door.
Do you think that’s funny? I don’t think it’s funny.
But our backs have been broken too many times. We’ve seen all their tricks and we know all their lines and it’s not free, but it should be.
So we risk our necks and reputations. When we hit the ground, the needle skips.
I put a file in your birthday cake because a cheap cliche and a half-hearted
gesture is what you asked for this year. I spent a day on that damned mix tape.
I should have known that you’d have Nick Drake.
The saddest songs are the oldest news to you.
The saddest songs are the oldest news to you.
But our hearts have been broken too many times. We’ve seen all their tricks and we know all their lines and it’s time. Oh, it’s time.
So the saints are all lying on my kitchen floor, drifting in and out of consciousness and hanging on the screen door, saying, “Life is not free, but
it will be.” And they close their eyes and smile their smiles of bloody lips and broken teeth.
I put a file in your birthday cake because a cheap cliche and a half-hearted gesture is what you asked for this year. I spent a day on that damned mix tape. I should have known that you’d have Nick Drake. The saddest songs are the oldest news.
But do you find you’re so different? Have you never met your own friends?
Does the time move slowly only for you? Were the police reports, the articles, the eulogies written only for you?
I dreamt that I kissed you. I dreamt that I kissed you and then let you go.

Christmas Card
You thought I was confused. I thought it was strange that you had it all figured out.
You had it all wrong. I’ve been putting you off for months now.
Your letter I never replied to, you raise the alarm. You call the police.
I’ve been the supporting role, it’s clear. But now I’m stealing scenes and spilling beer. It’s just one less Christmas card this year.
I fold my newspaper in half. It’s better left unread I say, the propogandists hard at play.
I don’t think it’s sad, I don’t think it’s anything that I promised to and I never do.
I’ve been the supporting role, it’s clear. But now I’m stealing scenes and spilling beer. It’s one less Christmas card I’ll toss this year.
One less Christmas card this year.
So a Merry Goodbye from me to you. And a Happy Cram It the whole year through.
If I ever walk away, will you take me by the hair and remember I said I loved you once?