IRC-Galleria

Funny what you think of
after a collapse
While lying in the dirt
the first thing that comes back is never
quite what youÂ’d have guessed
And if you could have,
you probably wouldÂ’ve said
youÂ’d check if all your limbs were intact still
and then try to get out

We played house with the neighbors
in their basement
Sister made me husband
she was older so I did her bidding
I remember once their dad came in said,
"You think this is bad?
You don’t know the half.”
And he laughed.

ItÂ’s funny what things come back
The first things you see

How he sort of smiled like itÂ’s only a joke
but he was lying
There was something else inside of his eyes
All those secrets people tell to little children
Are warnings that they give them
Like, “Look, I’m unhappy.
Please don’t make the same mistake as me.”

Why are those old worn out jokes
on married life told at toasts
at receptions still?
How does it never occur
how often couples get burned
and end uncertain in Splitsville?

Funny what you think of
in the wreckage,
lying there
in the dirt
and the dust
and the glass
How youÂ’re suddenly somewhere,
in the desert,
in the nighttime,
and itÂ’s getting close to Christmas
And then her and that movie voice
she uses when she reads,
“Welcome to the Land of Enchantment”
from a highway sign
And itÂ’s late so you take the next exit

When that trip ended we came back
the rent was due I was jobless
I guess in retrospect
I shouldÂ’ve sensed decay
Then that day, how you said,
“I just don’t know”
and I promised
WeÂ’d rearrange things
to fix the mess IÂ’d made here

But I guess in the end
we just moved furniture around
but I guess in the end
we just moved furniture around
but I guess in the end
we just moved furniture around
but I guess in the end
it sort of feels like
every day itÂ’s harder
to stay happy where you are
There are all these ways
to look through the fence
into your neighborÂ’s yard
Why even risk it?
ItÂ’s safer to stay distant
When itÂ’s so hard now to just be content
Because thereÂ’s always something else

Now IÂ’m proposing my own toast,
composing my own joke
for those married men
Maybe IÂ’m miserable,
IÂ’d rather run for mayor in Splitsville
than suffer your jokes again.


La Dispute - For The Mayor In Splitsville

If I could play back every moment to you now
Spent lovesick and swollen on
Mornings mincing garlic on the counter by the sink
If I could hit the instant replay on only every good day
Would any of it catch you by surprise?

When you say, "something is missing now"
That's what came back to me
Normal mornings like that set the knife down and forget where I'd left it
Making breakfast
Put coffee on the stove then scour every counter for the knife

Don't be shy
Don't be kind
Somewhere snow collects and bends the boughs of pines

But doesn't it seem a bit wasteful to you
To throw away all of the time we spent perfecting our love in close quarters and confines?
Isn't it wasteful?
And I am terrified that it doesn't feel painful to me yet
Somewhere on top of the high rise there's a woman on the edge of a building at the ledge
And traffics backing up on 35

It's alright
I will fix whatever is not the sweetness in your eyes
Just sit down
Please
Sit down
Here
At the table and we'll talk
Somewhere televisions light up in the night

I know things weren't right
Maybe we were never cut out for the Midwest life
Maybe we'd have done much better on a coast
There are certain things I doubt we'll ever know

I know you were getting tired of my drinking
I guess I was never cut out for the coke scene
You were worried I would end up like your father and
Tired of the smoke and somewhere the wind blows

Somewhere a storm touches down north in Hudsonville

Somewhere the coffee starts to boil on the stove and
Somewhere the wind blows

Somewhere the river levels finally getting low

Somewhere I'm up past dawn till
Somewhere you live here still
Somewhere you're already gone

Somewhere a radio is playing in a living room
Says the city lacks the funds to fix the bridge

Somewhere the deer are overrun so they're introducing wolves back on the ridge

And from here in the kitchen
I can hear the neighbors in the alley hanging linens
And the men collect the trash bins in the street
You're speaking to me but I can't understand you
The coffee is burning and
All of the times that we spent
That road trip out west
Through desert for the rest stops the kitsch we both collect
That winter the whole weekend we huddled by the stove
The cabin I had rented
The unexpected snow
That visit for Christmas
On television binges
We'll see friends in Brooklyn
Drive south to Richmond
There's traffic on the bridge
A woman on the ledge
And everywhere the wind
Everything is happening at once

La Dispute - Stay Happy There

Everybody wants a reason for everything.
ItÂ’s so much easier with someone or something to blame.
IÂ’ve always struggled at the root of the problem.
Has it been absence or my constant lack of defense?

IÂ’ve never spent a lot on finding a remedy.
I guess I figured that it hurt for a reason.
I guess thatÂ’s why IÂ’ve always turned to writing it down.
Not just in stories, but the letters in between.

And I guess thatÂ’s why it haunts the pages of everything -
to self-examine.

I think the thing is that I shut off from everything.
From friends and family and my own ambitions.
From having fun.
I just shut off from everything.

Self-defeating? Yeah, probably.
But I donÂ’t know that I had total control over it.
And IÂ’m not sure it even matters? Why?

Sometimes things happen and you canÂ’t do anything.
Plus, IÂ’m the only one who deals with it anyway.
So if everyone could do me a favor and
just put their fingers down
IÂ’d - and keep your mouths -

Sorry. I know I seem angry.
IÂ’m not, IÂ…I promise. I just know I did this to me.
And I will deal with it accordingly.

And I donÂ’t need opinions from those never a part of it.
DonÂ’t need them pointing out my problems, theyÂ’re mine.
DonÂ’t need reminders, I know better than anyone.

And yeah, I know, I should be finding another way.
I know that I should be out seeking a substitute.
But just forgetting never really made sense to me.

So I havenÂ’t been.

Do I feel embarrassed about it?
I think you know the answer to that.
I think youÂ’d probably feel a little bit embarrassed for me,
wouldnÂ’t you?

I know I shouldÂ’ve moved on ages ago, been happy already,
but itÂ’s never been that easy for me.
Or maybe it was me that made it so hard.

I know IÂ’ve only ever tried a handful of times
to sever this thing torturing me.
It never got me anywhere, with anyone.
No friendship or hobby, no loverÂ’s bed worked.

But looking back I maybe never tried hard enough,
and it is my fault.

Maybe I never tried at all.