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Self​-​Titled EP

by The 4 of Us Are Dying

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1.
Your kiss of death is a breath to me, come rest in peace. We prefer to starve purely out of recreation, we're counting all the starts waiting for an expiration. I'M NOT THE POOR SOUL I USED TO BE. I need a bride for just one night, I shan't be needing the rest of your life. You've got some nerve calling yourself a saint, I hope you burn with that fucking faith. You look so good, yes you do. Your silhouette illuminates the room. I'm not the poor I used to be, come fucking rest in peace. (You look so good yes you do, your silhouette illuminates the room, I'm not the poor soul that I used to be). Twenty years of reckless sorrows as she fell in love with god, her angles felt so parallel when I got her questions wrong. I'm sickened by her past, like the thoughts that raped her mind. The stabbing pain that's in her stomach is now with her all the time. She dared to become hollow from the emptiness inside, don't look at me like you've never wondered what it's like to die. I'm not trying to impose but I suppose I could have chose another rose for the casket at your funeral. All those empty hearts that never found a soul.
2.
Only god knows where that body's been or the way your back can bend. You're the one who taught me nothing in life 'comes' free. There's so many things I tried to say but it's not in the words themselves but rather in the silence in between. Love is synonymous with blood shed because now and again it tends to happen. You can call it a coincidence or maybe you were full of shit when you were thinking clear enough to get so confident. I'll fade away just like the paint on the interstate. You define the lanes because I couldn't keep you safe. Baby you know it's your body heat that keeps me on my feet. Her parents just wanted to know that she's okay. It's not the girl who we let crash her car on the freeway, I guess it was the state that brought her back to me. I'm dissecting, resurrecting, and accepting the context. I'm gut-wrenched, thought-drenched in the contents of being honest. I wore her jaw as a crown, she dissolved in the ground. Tonight I cut my losses. If every word could leave you strangled you'd resemble my ankle. Tonight I think I've lost it. It was straight forward to say that I'm disordered, to say I'm feeling cornered but that part's true. Can we fast forward because I'm timid with the torture of breaching every boarder because I'll always be a breath away from falling back in love with you. All's it'll take is this hit, your hundred shades of lipstick. We've got a thousand miles until we reach Alaska and you couldn't be more inconsiderate. You can't blame this relationship, everything is what you make of it. One thousand miles until we reach Alaska, we could be more legitimate. Baby you know it's your body heat that keeps me on my feet, her parents just wanted to know that she's okay.
3.
Let's just pretend he's splitting ends. He's doing fine, he's still alive when those words are redefined. He cuts alone, down to the bone, it's disgusting when you asked to see, baby these scars are just for you. I pick at these scabs, that's why they never heal and when I get you back I swear my lips are sealed. You say things aren't as bad as we make them seem but then my back is stabbed and I'm asked not to bleed. He slashed this thigh by the centimeter, a crimson drip by the liter. So let it bleed. Just let him bleed. I'd love to spend the night with you in hell but your curfew's still at twelve. We're not getting any younger here so let's not drag this out another year. Love is dead to me and so are you, love is dead to me because of you. I just thought I should let you know I'm suffocating, I'm letting go. We're replicating a record low, back and forth we push and pull. Don't you think you're a little old to be so proud of all the lies you've told? You get around, it's all you know, as if your sister ever taught you how to take things slow. It's nothing personal, I'm your shattered passenger window. You never grow when you lose control with conventional words for a boy with no soul. It's getting critical, to me you're not a drug, you're medicinal. As if it's not enough you're so difficult, what a pitiful blessing from above. (I'm obliged to indulge in my impulse. I'm deprived but that look in your eyes is an insult. You could never guess what compressing thoughts could compel. You'll never impress and my chest implies a farewell.) You said our love was elastic. Your heart is made with cheap plastic. Back and forth, its semantics, this mess that we've crafted. My over reactions are part of the package. I pick at these scabs that's why they never heal and when I get you back I swear my lips are sealed. You say things aren't as bad as we make them seem but then my back is stabbed and I'm asked not to bleed.
4.
Confident assertion has just never been my scene, my mouth is sewn shut with a passive theme. The past would be relevant if the clock stood still but I'm changing the pace with every second I kill. This is nothing but apathy, it's 3 am and I can't hear myself think, this insomnia grows on me, all I can hear is shallow breathing. When did you become so blurry? My eyes are a separate entity. This dream is on replay, this bed is where I decay. Maybe it may be a cliche, I'm polyphasically taking sleep aids. Hands to the sky if you're sleep deprived, these are all the nights that we left behind. These are all the lives that could coincide if we recognized the vibe of formaldehyde. We got addicted to chloroform because a normal form of sleep was so much more. We're not afflicted by empathy as I ready my remedy. I'm sick of feeling sorry for myself and I'M SORRY FOR FEELING SICK OF MYSELF. This is nothing but apathy, it's 3 am and I can't hear myself think, this insomnia grows on me, all I can hear is shallow breathing. When did you become so blurry? My eyes are a separate entity. If I could manifest for myself I'd wear a crucifix on our path of recreation, on our path to be more virtuous. The only reason I would leave this hear is if it was meant to disappear. On our path of recreation, on our path to be more virtuous. If I could manifest for myself I'd wear a fucking crucifix on our path of recreation, on our path to be more virtuous. The only reason I would leave this hear is if you were meant to disappear. On our path of recreation, on our path to be more virtuous.
5.
It was never a matter of what I gave but what I had. I'm still not over the fact or the boisterous way you brag. Maybe there's a subtle truth in wishing you were never born, maybe years of solitude is all I have been searching for. I'm breaking all your vinyls, I'm not the least bit jealous. How many times do you plan on stuffing your clothes in white trash bags? You've got a thing for fellow narcissists, you gold-digging materialist. So wrap me in that veil of guilt because I wanted her to stay, everyday this room reminds me of the choices that I made. I can sense the lingering stench of her perfume that still haunts me but I won't slit my wrists over a cheating bitch who doesn't want me. I will forever remain your glistening alcoholic, it's been so long since I've felt strong enough to feel nostalgic. I will forever refrain from being toppled by our memories, it's all I have, it's who I am. I'm a bottle of your dreams. No. SHAME ON THE FRIEND THAT PREVENTED YOU FROM KILLING YOURSELF. So let's place our bets on her next home wreck for our little princess. This house was cursed to begin with, our days were doomed to diminish. I'm breaking all your vinyls, I'm not the least bit jealous.
6.
Shove my tongue down the throat of the Earth as she carves out and rejects her spine, as these tides beg to worship my ankles but the sea is no lover of mine. Get your mind out of the shallows, you're so obsessed with your shadow. It's the weakness in my stomach that taught me how to dance, it's those thirty-some-odd sleeping pills that taught me to relax. My body's just a victim to the voices in my head and I tend to fall in love with everyone who wants me dead. No absolution, we're being too conclusive with your mouth. Don't tell me I'm the first one to break you in. I want to wrap my fingers around your neck, distracted by our dreams now desperate for his dialect, now repent. You're a bastard if I've ever seen one and believe me hun, I've been shunned and expunged from everyone. All the lives you've sacrificed, I'm enticed but it won't suffice you selfish WHORE. I'm jealous of vacancy. This is the lowest you will ever think of me. It's hard to be progressive when her shackles are recessive, "LET HER BURN, LET HER BURN" said the groom of a bitch. No constitute possessions for her molested impression, let it turn, let it turn like the room is submerged. I'm jealous of vacancy. Our reasons swept through like cruel bombs. Does my lack of interest turn you on? No absolution, we're being too conclusive with your mouth. Don't tell me I'm the first one to break you in. "Let's just get this over with" said the shotgun to my guts. It's no fun being the victim but we get off to pulling the trigger. Redeem the means of meeting a monstrous mockery of my mind, but the tyrants are telling me to live a little less like you.

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Tee Kay - Vocals / Programming
Luke Bauerle - Vocals / Guitar

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released July 9, 2016

Artwork by Alex Mank. Written and Performed by Tee Kay and Luke Bauerle. Recorded by John Franck Productions, additional editing by Dylan Werle. Special Thanks to Josh Lawson, Steven Christy, and Gage Emmerson

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The 4 of Us Are Dying Waterford Township, Michigan

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