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John Darnielle Dec 2021
I hope that our few remaining friends
Give up on trying to save us
I hope we come up with a failsafe plot
To ******* the dumb few that forgave us
I hope the fences we mended
Fall down beneath their own weight
And I hope we hang on past the last exit
I hope it's already too late
And I hope the junkyard a few blocks from here
Someday burns down
And I hope the rising black smoke carries me far away
And I never come back to this town
Again in my life
I hope I lie
And tell everyone you were a good wife
And I hope you die
I hope we both die

I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow
I hope it bleeds all day long
Our friends say it's darkest before the sun rises
We're pretty sure they're all wrong
I hope it stays dark forever
I hope the worst isn't over
And I hope you blink before I do
Yeah I hope I never get sober
And I hope when you think of me years down the line
You can't find one good thing to say
And I'd hope that if I found the strength to walk out
You'd stay the hell out of my way
I am drowning
There is no sign of land
You are coming down with me
Hand in unlovable hand
And I hope you die
I hope we both die
There may come a day, as I say, when you may have cause to sing this song. I hope that that day never comes. At the same time, I know that it will. Let’s not kid each other. You're going to have a very bad relationship someday. It's not just gonna ****, it's gonna **** ***. You’re going to make up a little chart of all the ***** that it *****. It’ll be your ***-chart on your bedroom wall. Your significant other will say, 'What is this?' and you will say 'Oh, they’re butts. Just butts.' and they'll say, 'The hell they are; that's an ***-chart!' Where will you be then, O Sinner? As the great worm that never dies curls its slimy folds around your naked heart, you will need a song to sing. This is that song.
John Darnielle Dec 2021
I broke free on a Saturday morning
I put the pedal to the floor
Headed north on Mills avenue
And listened to the engine roar

My broken house behind me and good things ahead
A girl named Cathy wants a little of my time
Six cylinders underneath the hood crashing and kicking
Aha, listen to the engine whine

I am going to make it through this year
If it kills me
I am going to make it through this year
If it kills me

I played video games in a drunken haze
I was seventeen years young
Hurt my knuckles punching the machines
The taste of scotch rich on my tongue

And then Cathy showed up and we hung out
Trading swigs from a bottle all bitter and clean
Locking eyes, holding hands
Twin high maintenance machines

I am going to make it through this year
If it kills me
I am going to make it through this year
If it kills me

I drove home in the California dusk
I could feel the alcohol inside of me hum
Pictured the look on my stepfather's face
Ready for the bad things to come
I down shifted as I pulled into the driveway
The motor screaming out stuck in second gear
The scene ends badly as you might imagine
In a cavalcade of anger and fear

There will be feasting and dancing
In Jerusalem next year

I am going to make it through this year
If it kills me
I am going to make it through this year
If it kills me
This is a song about how sometimes you are living in a house and you're in high school and your stepfather is abusing your mother and you, and it really *****. You have to take a lot of drugs to deal with that, right, but you don't have to, I should say. But you probably do. And when you do, they make you feel marginally better but the main thing that makes you feel better is the company of other people who are as damaged as you are or will shortly become as damaged as you are, and you can sense it, because there is an internal sensor if you bear some damage, you have this sensor that says 'That person is either damaged or is getting there, and I think I will hang out with her until things get a little brighter.'
John Darnielle Dec 2021
you roared into the driveway of our southwestern ranch-style house
on a new Kawasaki, all yellow and black
fresh out of the showroom.
our house faced west,
so the big orange sun positioned at your back,
lit up your magnificent silhouette.
how much better?
how much better can my life get?
900 cubic centimeters of raw whining power.
no outstanding warrants for my arrest.
whoa-whoa. whoa whoa.
the pirate's life for me.

I hopped on back of the bike, wrapped my arms around you.
and I sank my face into your hair.
and then I inhaled as deeply as I possibly could.
you were as sweet and delicious as the warm desert air.
and you pointed your headlamp toward the horizon,
we were the one thing in the galaxy god didn't have his eyes on.
900 cc's of raw whining power,
no outstanding warrants for my arrest.
hi ****** dee dee.
*******!
the pirate's life for me!
You know, people are always saying to each other, they say, 'You're the only thing that's important in my life.' Saying this to each other all the time. But then sometimes you may meet a couple of people and when you see them, you know that when they say that to each other, that's exactly what you mean. You should guard your wallets around these sorts of people. They don't really care about the things that are out of their immediate sphere, and their immediate sphere is definable by the distance between one another's eyes. This song is sung from the perspective of one such person in such a duality. It takes place in Texas.
John Darnielle Dec 2021
Three fresh meals every day
And one white pill to chase the chills away
And me, I know what it's all about
And we all know what it's like to have to go without

Five of us are left, that's down from twenty
But the guy in the white coat, he tells me that five is plenty
Yeah, one soft bed to rest my head upon
And me, I know what side my bread's buttered on

There's a light in the window
There's a light in all of us trying to get free
There's a light in all of you who hear my song
There's a virus eating its way through me
older song i wrote with my good friend Franklin Bruno
John Darnielle Oct 2021
Jumping out of my skin
This tiny sector can't contain me
Suit up in a flash
Slipping symbols bravely, bravely
Go where I'm not wanted
Stand where the light hits hard
Almost full grown
Drive home alone and listen to the slow parts

In a new universe
Trying to find the mask that fits me
Shaking the curse
Behaving as the beacons bid me
Denim and leather
Silver strap to please the diehards
Let me dance till I die
Turn the volume up high and listen to thе slow parts

Alien ships from ancient realms
Ageless captains at their helms
Rage from the sea
Let it begin with me

Half-life of my toxins
Difficult to calculate
Stock up on gauze in case of accidents
Try to keep my story straight
Dozens like me
Never quite free, filling out our dance cards
Mark my time on the wall
Answer the call and listen to the slow parts
All songs end up being autobiographical if you take the long view, but 'The Slow Parts on Death Metal Albums' is probably the most directly confessional song on Dark in Here.
John Darnielle Oct 2021
I don't like going to the doctor
I don't like looking in the mirror
I like looking out the window
Watching the waves break
Do I have to hit you over the head with it
Do I have to hit you over the head with it

I'm tired of talking to the suckers
I'm tired of talking to the wealthy
I wanna talk to men and women
Who haven't got anything left
Do I have to hit you over the head with it
Do I have to hit you over the head with it

Carry me down to the water
Where I used to play when I was five
Let me go, let me go down to the water
Don't bring me back alive
Do I have to hit you over the head with it
Do I have to hit you over the head with it
John Darnielle Dec 2020
I'm going to do what I like
I'm going to live how I want
I'm going to build myself a great estate
With lots of statues out front

Choirs from the Curtis Institute
Singing me to sleep
Wake up and worship the great gold sheep

I'm going to walk the pathways of the ancients
I'm going to let my name be known
I'm going to seek the wild haunts of this world
And carve a place out all my own

Heat up the iron until it glows
Burn the brand so deep
Wake up and worship the great gold sheep

There's only one, splendid and fine
The ages attest it's wondrous design
You and me stand somehow above the fray
And name everyone who's throwing their chance away

I'm going to write my name on everything
I'm going to leave a lasting legacy
And when my body's thrown with great force from a window
The dogs will fight for whatever's left of me

Shallow grave among the weeds
Where the pale worms creep
Wake up and worship the great gold sheep
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