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lyrics

I simply thought you were congested
actually that's not true
I didn't think about it at all
But I'd been meditating like you'd suggested

I just wanted to tell you about me
but I was sucking up the room
Leaving hardly a trace of space

After that fallout I have theories to propose
one, it was a head cold
two, you had been crying
perhaps someone smashed you in the fucking nose

I just wanted to tell you about me
but I was sucking up the room
leaving hardly a trace of space

It was hard to like you
and most didn't I assume
you had this manner
tender time bomb
in brackish perfume

patent-pending creator
of sucking up the room
you had this manner
vampish victim
attention vacuum

worst of all, you prattled endlessly about your dreams
not waking, walking metaphors, but literal dreams
You can't imagine how boring your dreams are
You can't imagine how boring your dreams are

I just wanted to tell you about me
but I was sucking up the room
leaving hardly a trace of space

credits

from a minor but perilous triumph of being over nothingness, released January 3, 2013
All music and lyrics written, assembled and produced by Elliott Marx
Vocals: Dyingseed

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Hot Liquids Burn Like Fire Los Angeles, California

Counterpoint by avocation.

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