I was going to "premiere" this song at the open mike tonight but I don't think I'm going to feel up to playing out this week as I feel like total crap. So instead I recorded it onto my mp3 player's voice recorder and I've put it up here. It's one of a batch of new songs I wrote a few weeks ago for Acoustafuckit Parte Tres. Here, because they're important, are the lyrics:
Captain Pathetic walks down the street
Every girl he passes by he casts his eyes to his feet
And they don't notice it but he feels so ashamed
And he kicks his own head in and curses his name
And he stares at the ceiling and hears someone crooning
a sad song out of a black hole and wagers
they don't know a thing about heartache
this weight on his chest is a burden
he'd sooner be dead
He blacks out his windows with spray paint and lets
all the fumes fill his head he don't need those brain cells
And the sunlight's just bringing him down
and the heat makes it harder to think of how everything sucks
and the daylight seeps in through the cracks in the door
he'll just seal it up he don't go out anymore
and his skin's always crawling his eyes always burn
and he doesn't have any good drugs to turn to
Sometimes he'd like to be whacked out of his head
but he's never tried anything that made him feel better
"could someone please turn down the volume?" he says
"the world's just a tiny bit loud, and my head is
aching and pounding my hands won't stop shaking
my skin feels so hot and my eyeballs are sweating
now what was I saying? I don't know why everything
has to be so hard my head's caving in"
Covered in scars but they're all self-inflicted
He's not suicidal just martyr addicted
He doesn't want sympathy but just the same
He wants you to know he deserves his good name
and the more of a show he makes out of his misery
stumbling and bleeding all over the stage
the more he can lie to himself and pretend
that it's all just an act and he don't feel that way
Captain Pathetic peeks through the blinds
out his window and sees the world moving outside
And says "Nobody's out there who knows how I feel
They're all fucking robots and only I'm real
They're programmed to irritate me with their
incessant cheerfulness and their upbeat attitudes
and they don't have to worry and fret all the time,
not like me, I'm alive, why must I be alive?"
After I do Acoustafuckit Parte Tres I'm planning to make an album of songs from the three Acoustafuckits with higher production values. My first (and thus far best) idea for the title of this album is Big Fat Waste of Time. More on that later.
