Oh hi real life​.​.​. (EP)

by Emily Fralick

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1.
04:30
2.
02:43
3.
03:26
4.
03:56
5.
6.

about

The last set of tracks I wrote and recorded fully in Bristol.

credits

released 30 July 2012

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Track Name: Questions
I’m reading Matthew by day and then Hitchens by night
Don’t think anything can save me; nothing seems right
And I don’t believe everything I read or that I hear
But if it kills me I will find a way to shake off this fear

You’re a son of a bitch but a hell of a son
Nothing like blood to make you proud of someone
And nothing like no expectations to exceed prediction
Those that have known pain know damn well how to inflict it

All of your explanations
They just give us questions
Thinking is our best chance

When you’re twenty-two you think you’ve seen it all
You’ve got no idea hun just how far you can fall
Oh, but I’m a fast learner and anything good I'll fix it
Those that have known pain know damn well how to inflict it

You’re a son of a bitch but a hell of a son
So I’ll only ask just how fast you can run
There’s nothing for you here but Friday paycheck addiction
We say we’re doing just fine but we say it without conviction
And those that have known pain know damn well how to inflict it

All of your explanations
They just leave us questions
Thinking is our last chance
Track Name: Wake
They say things are clearer when you’re older
No belief, no light
I am holding on to ice

The fear is real and I’m not
Sure I’m not to blame
I am sure that I’m insane

Never been to a wake in the winter
Never been to a wake in the…
Near paralyzed, I am drunk and I am cold
But oh, it’s nice to be home
They say, “Isn’t it nice to be home?”

When you get to the point that you know
What you can and cannot prove
Then you’ve solved it, haven’t you?

This bottle’s real and I’ve got
This slowly swelling rage
Sole the sufferer, sole the blame,
So they…

Never been to a wake in the winter
Never been to a wake in the…
Near paralyzed, I am drunk and I am cold
But oh, it’s nice to be home

Home, coming home, coming home, coming home

Paralyzed with fear, I am drunk but I am here
And oh, it’s nice to be home
They say, “Isn’t it nice to be home?”
Oh but don’t
Don’t wake up…
Track Name: Sunday Best
Waiting here is wasting me to death
How could I have known that you were there behind that door?
I'm sorry for what I said
The streets are cold here; I can always see my breath
I was way too high to say goodbye
I ran away and I don't know why

Still hiding in London
So no one gets hurt when it all comes undone
Getting back to my apartment
Or flat or whatever you bastards call it
I just up and left; didn't realize what it meant
You called me out
What began in the hall...I'll be damned if it all works out

Still hiding in Bristol
Thinking it could help, but my thinking's wishful
Nobody could stop it
Everything I never felt has been shoplifted, tattered, torn
Things that I'd tried to ignore (and with success)
Barely here in the flesh; I'm a shell in my Sunday best

Oh, I'm sorry that you're sore
Has no one ever talked to you like this before?
I'm sorry that you're sore
Has no one ever talked to you like this?
Track Name: Charades
We could lie here locked together
Lying's just my thing
You will fall wherever we are into a world of my making
Singing, I don't mind the weather
But I won't confess my sins
I don't mind the weather
But I won't say where I've been

So we'll burn alive stuck in the city
And eye to eye scream that you're with me
You'll buy lines to keep from missing
The comfort of my skin

The attention was great but I'm tired, you see
Why can't you accept I'm a liar, baby?

I'd be selling you so short
If I said I meant it all
But I'm kidding myself if anything else
That every word was false
Screaming, I don't want to hurt you
None of it's your fault
I don't want to hurt you
But I still want it all

Apathy becomes me oh so well
Apathy becomes me oh so well
Track Name: Nothing, Nothing
In the quietest of moments
In honest self-reflection
We become instant human animals
With none of our convictions
There’s no pity, sleep or mercy
On this ship that’s run aground
But gradually we become something
Like men again as we come around

When all that’s been learned has been forgotten
We’ll turn to watch them rock and buckle and sway
And education’s all that’s left
Useless facts at best from books and plays
But better to have beasts that let themselves be killed
Than men who run away

In the quietest of moments
It’s still impossible to think
Simply put, this war has ruined for us everything
What used to bring us joy?
Turns out we’d never really lived
We were better off as kids
Because this on no one I would wish

When all that’s been learned has been forgotten
We’ll turn to watch them fall, their color drained
Damn this phantom limb
I have no heart but still for them it aches
He could not have suffered long
His face was just so calm…