Cigarette Breath + Cigarette Clothes

by Seethruskin

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about

four songs that are kinda old-ish; like a few months. they're all about me being sad and shit. enjoy!

credits

released July 26, 2016

thanks tayler i love you. thanks cricket cave kids. thanks queer agenda kids. thanks all other huntington and charleston kids who came to shows. thanks friends i met on tour who still listen to my music. thanks everyone on the internet who has listened to my music and said nice things to me. thank you for listening.

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about

Seethruskin Charleston, West Virginia

anarcho-folk/
sad-punk named after a jawbreaker song.

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Track Name: A Mattress on the Floor and a TV on a Milk Crate
My self loathing has been getting the best of me
It flares it's feathers when I get out of bed
My yellow teeth tell tales as my limbs all convulse
I speak in letters that you've never read
And I'm a rough draft pre dating stereotypes
You can tell by my mouth covered in blood not my own
No that's for you and your clothes,
And your ears and your nose
Just breath me in and make me feel less alone

I'm melting flesh off my arm
Drowning in black matter snow
I'm leeching onto warm bodies
To make a friend of my own
Cuz I'm so desperate and dumb
So sorry you had to know
The sun is shining to remind me
I'm no more than a ghost

A little illiteration to make me feel safe and sick
Ugly Shakespearean lines remind me my time is shit
I stacked my monuments high
Until they crumbled to dust
I hosted pity parties, swore my lungs succame to the rust
I'm tripping on my two feet, swallowing shit without shame
Don't need no fuckin God to tell me that I'm one in the same
My sickness is gluttonous
Painted in mildew and mold
My apathy it tasted better
Before I got so old

I'm lost at sea on a ship, drowning in wave after wave
In rural climates, city streets I'm overgrowth and decay
I found the journals where I told you you're too good for myself
The veins of my cigarette bleed through my sickness and health
I hope I choke
I hope I never wake up
My skin is peeling back, my nerves frayed
Fucking with my makeup
My skirt is burning at the bottom, gender fucked, irritated
My eyes shoot open for another to fight, i fuckin hate it
I fuckin hate it
I fucking hate it
Track Name: Sometimes I'm Strawberry. Sometimes I'm Blue.
my 3 y/o nephew's favorite song is a song he wrote called, "Sometimes I'm Strawberry. Sometimes I'm Blue." I stole the name of this song from a 3 y/o.

My brains have painted the front porch steps for years and years
They match the red lights of the mailboxes and dirt for worms to live in
And I'm tasteless as the friends I never talk to anymore
Or maybe they don't talk to me cuz I'm a selfish bore
My fingers are taped together and I'm walking with a limp
I spit out rainbows from crooked teeth, sonnet from my busted lips
And these bugs crawl around in circles seconds from beneath my shoes
It's funny what we have in common,
It's funny how we both were born to lose
It's funny what we have in common
It's funny how we both were born to lose

Strangers tell me better news than I've ever heard in my life
What a peaceful centerpiece on the cluttered table of my mind
What a thoughtful fucking punchline,
I'm the joke you'll never get
Follow me, oh green messiah
Follow me to hospital beds
This isn't what I've whispered from this peak before, as I never am
I used to be a painting, remembered frames,
Fiddle between ghostly hands
Now I'm self righteous and self important
Self induced insomniac
Watch me cry a fucking river
Watch my guts spill from my laugh
Watch me cry a fucking river
Watch me have a heart attack
I've never cried a fucking river
And I'll survive this one I guess

And I've been foaming from my yellow tongue
Both bothersome and bold
I've spun angels made of featherweight and dustbowls made of gold
A thoughtful anecdote, a pity, and my fathers son am I
It's funny how that could the last thought on my mind before I die
It's funny how that could be the last thought on my mind before I die

It's funny what we have in common
It's funny how we're both born to lose.
Track Name: My Dad Was My Age in 1989
I am the drugs I wanted to be hooked on
To boost my ever inferior chills
I am all the medicines that you took to get happy
The ones you craved against your will
And whether I'm dead or dying, feeling alive or not
I'll be my own fucking coffin
There isn't a bone in my body that hasn't stressed enough
How important it is to be forgotten
With every groan and grunt,
Mutter under breath
I acted on in the morning wake
They clapped their hands together, I felt tired and stupid,
A feeling I'll forever chase like a faith
The stumbled feet with shoelaces knotted can't get as far as I dream
But I'll still keep on pretending I haven't noticed,
Fuck, this is just what it seemed

This is the worst one I've had in a while,
With broken necks and feet nailed to the floor
I've got a feeling somethings starting to sweat now,
A fair view acre sized hole in the door
I used to really be concerned with my sleeping
I used to pray to gods every night
I used to swallow my leaders like sugar pills
I used to thank them all for every crime
I wanted fret board placebo effect
Now I'm just lucky if it rains here at all
The sense of desperation dripping off my bed,
Leaving sweat stains on the walls
The target was the edge, till my feet felt the gravity
I met myself as the mirror stared back
The ugly truth I've hid in my head all these frost bitten years
Turned my fingers to the knuckle black
Track Name: Commie Fuckface Anti-Christ
an autobiography.

When your tears are pens ink and there's sand in your fist
You've been romanticizing stories about the boys you could've kissed
And when the only thing you know is that you hate to exist
You know I always stop and wonder about the girl I could've been
You know I always stop and wonder about the woman I could've been

I sang to you through my blistered lungs
I watched you cry, I sat pathetic and dumb
I graced my own goodbyes with your signature, your stature
I fled through crowds of bodied men
Police, machine guns and tear gas cans
I knew I'd make it out alive but I really didn't fucking wanna
And the sonnets came too forced, when they came to me at all
I found you too rough to the touch
Your hair, grainy alcohol
You found me dead enough as I was,
Alone and ill prepared
I was having too much fun those nights, sick, lonely and scared

Cuz Jesus came to me today, around 1 in the afternoon
He told me you're just too goddamn worthless to deserve to come out your cocoon
I believed him when he told me, I shook his hole ridden hands
I saw him shed no tears for me, never righteous, understand
Newly rightful understatement


And I saw your words, drawn paradise
My own shrill voice, cacophony
My rhythm and my movements fell out of step and out of line
The time never accelerated, fuck off, bullshit overstatement
I sat and watched my skin dry, drop like cigarette ashes to the floor
Her footsteps followed through the trees
I got cold to touches, on my knees
I knew I'd get up some day but I really didn't fucking wanna
So I maimed my face, I faced my fears,
I bled my wounds, I aged my years
I never once consented, my youth was taken nevertheless
I felt pretentious, headless, out of frame
A wandering bird, I swallowed names
I begged for scraps to starve on
Rewrote classics in my head


And the devil came to me today,
Around 9:30 at night
He said I gave you all the songs you heard, you're gonna be alright
I told him I simply couldn't believe him and I shook his knife like hands
It's all alone I found myself at the whim of perfect pictures I couldn't force myself to understand
I forced my own perspective
It was mine to lose in the first place
I knew I'd make it through that night
But I really didn't fucking wanna