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Goons

by Think Easy

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1.
I'm writing to your doubt two hundred miles away. I've been wondering lately when the right words would come because my skin's been bubbling over for the past couple months, but the flame would go out and I'd be left in the dark again. The scene is painted perfectly, seared into my brain, and the coping mechanisms aren't at all what I thought. Can you really stay composed when a man calls on his own bluff? Can you really operate under the assumption he won't? I thought about what's in your life and understood where you shut off. The well went dry, and I went home. You pined for something you'd lost, since forgotten. Breathe air from your lungs, ball your hands into fists again to stand and face this in your own; the only one who cared at all. Your whole body was worn too thin. They never wanted to know in the first place: the fox gnawed himself from his own goddamn trap. And I saw it coming as soon as your light shut off, to keep us in the dark until you could crawl out. Stigma says that I'm a failure. I've been holding out for this, and you've assembled brick walls around yourself to prevent reliving when your knees collapsed over again every time you're asked to explain yourself. Shame can never rectify my guilty hands for time I've lost from penning punctuation that you'll likely never see. It's just, the words aren't good enough for a bullet hole behind the ear. There's blood in the snow — a gun in the snow. I'm sorry. Don't forget what you came for. Don't forget. Don't forget. Don't forget what you came for. Commemoration or exploitation? This letter was written with good intentions, I swear. I swear, but can any of it absolve us from a life that's bound by losing one?
2.
Can you remember? Can I form full sentences? For once, decide on the structure, the subjects, and what will happen to them. I’m not an object, but it seems so easy to act as one; a lifeless robot designed to avoid every interaction. I'm not the same. Does winter make me? Is it really the season that pulls me back into the introspective recesses of my mind? Then turns you inside-out and exposes the veins leading to your heart, a system constructed with fail-safes in cracks that I've made from torturing. I've been talking in circles again. It makes me sick when I can't find the words to explain myself to you. So, I'll let the coffee stain my teeth as long as you'll stay with me. I've been talking in circles again. It makes me sick when I can't find the words to explain myself. And I've been lost in the details again. My focus is constantly wrong and the effort to speak is a lost cause and I am too.
3.
Dock the ship. I'll abandon what I have and replace this sense of pride with blissful ignorance. Tell me, do you think that I'm not fit to see what's going on? Could you really up and leave this? Would you really up and leave me? Pile on the things you never once said to me and I'll suffocate right next to you in the seat of your car. From the depths I never saw this approaching: the talk of leaving like it'd be nothing to you. And it seems the cyclic absence is the focal point for you to justify divorce from us in sacred house and home. A piece of me, you'd leave without warning and lay waste to everything — don't think of what we've accomplished. Oh. I kept it to myself, guarded my intent, and thought that I could trust you but I guess I've exposed my insides just for you to gut me and leave me sprawled open. Let my heart fall out. Is this what you wanted? The dirt is frozen, but I labor. I buried my intentions, but I'm breaking through the ground because I realized my desperation comes from never reaching out. The slow drip from my mouth just isn't good enough to grow something from soil and seeds. It blooms every December, dies, and then recedes into the hole it came from with no momentum. I guess hopes planted in dirt and doubt never blossom.
4.
5.
I've never had, someone so pure, pretty and anxious, happy and insecure. I've never been so scared of something so good, but I'll keep my head up like you always knew I would. I'll keep my eyes set on the sun and hope I won't go blind. I'll keep my eyes set on your love, hope I won't lose my mind. With vision sculpted, I've been sleeping six feet off the ground for two years now, but it's not looking to work out anytime soon. I don't know if I made the right choice. Am I moving towards something or am I stuck in-between plan A and plan B? Self-doubt's the language I know how to speak. Is there a cure for my indecision? Withering away is my only conviction. I've never had, someone so pure, pretty and anxious, happy and insecure. I've never been so scared of something so good, but I'll keep my head up like you always knew I would. I'll keep my eyes set on the sun and hope I won't go blind. I'll keep my eyes set on your love, hope I won't lose my mind. And you know, the hardest part of moving forward is fact that the past reels you back in. Time and time again you'll find yourself at the crossroads asking: does the pain of staying outweigh your fear of leaving? For it is in this moment that you'll ask yourself: "Have I hurt more than I've helped?" "Am I worth more here than I am gone?" “Can I reverse the damage I’ve done?" When the heat rises and blood boils you'll find the answer to your questions. And before you know it, you'll walk out that door with a grin across your face, never to return. I've never had, someone so pure, pretty and anxious, happy and insecure. I've never been so scared of something so good, but I'll keep my head up like you always knew I would. I'll keep my eyes set on the sun and hope I won't go blind. I'll keep my eyes set on your love, hope I won't lose my mind. I’m sorry I wasn't there when you needed me the most and I’m sorry I couldn't be the reason for you to stay. The pain, you held too long. The time we had: too short.

credits

released April 1, 2018

Recorded, mixed, and mastered by Ray Riot at Lubeck Studios
Assistant Engineering by Mark Spurlock and Nick Reuille
All songs written, produced, and performed by Think Easy
Artwork shot by Brandon Hoeg

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Think Easy South Elgin, Illinois

Three sweaty guys from South Elgin, IL who work up a good sweat in small, warm spaces surrounded by more sweaty bodies.

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