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about

This song is about realizing I have an addictive personality. It's about needing extremes because I'm often unstable and trying to balance myself out, but recognizing too much of anything can't be good and self-medication only leads to excess. Also one of two Bum Theory verses on the record!

lyrics

WE ALWAYS VANDALIZE
BY CANDLE LIGHT.
WE NEED EMOTIONS AMPLIFIED.
THEY SAW THAT,
I DON'T GET CALLED BACK,
JUST GOLF CLAPS
AND THEY ALL LAUGH.
I SPEAK IN ALL CAPS.
SO FALL BACK.
DAYS WE SPENT TOGETHER
ARE BLURRY.
KNEW YOU WERE LEAVING
WEEPING MADE SURE TO ASSURE ME.
AN AMBUSH,
WON'T BUDGE,
CAN'T PUSH.
FELT SO DAMN GOOD THESE HANDS SHOOK.
I CAN'T LOOK BUT THE FAM SHOULD.
PERSON DEAD IN THE STREET.
ENEMY: THE MAN'S HOOD.
ALL I WAS TO YOU WAS ERRORS.
ALL OUR TALKS THEY'D END IN SWEAR WORDS.
I DIDN'T MEAN TO SCARE HER,
BUT THERE'S TERROR IN THESE HYPOTHETICALS.
I'VE BEEN MEANING TO WRITE
THE MEANING OF LIFE.
I GOTTA TRY TO DIE ON SCHEDULE.
SHE LOVES THE SKY.
WANTS TO FLY.
WHICH UNDERMINED
MY WANT TO DIE.
ANOTHER TRY,
A LOVER'S LIE.
WHEN THE SUN IS HIGH
WE RUN AND HIDE.
SUMMERTIME,
BUT LIVING ISN'T EASY.
IT'S LIKE WE'RE SLEEPING
BUT WE LEFT ON THE T.V.
WE ROMANTICIZE THESE HANDSOME LIES.
I WOULD CHANGE BUT MY HANDS ARE TIED.
THERE'S ALL THESE RULES.
I CAN'T ABIDE.
I NEED THESE EMOTIONS AMPLIFIED.

(Chorus)
Live like you mean it.
Fist fight your demons.
Kiss like we're pieces.
Fit by extremists.
Sit by your speeches.
This time you mean it.
If we sound defeatist,
then so fucking be it.
Live like you mean it.
Fist fight your demons.
We'll kiss like we're pieces.
All midnight extremists.
So sit by your speeches.
Cause this time you mean it.
If we sound defeatist,
then so fucking be it.

If I never go to sleep again
I won't need a place to live.
Wanna find a better me eventually
inside this fatalist.
Days'll shift way to quick.
And I'll just quote philosophers.
Which ones I'm not for sure.
Whatever names are popular.
A constant blur,
at a loss for words.
Passed out in a trashed house,
so just don't let the cops in
or the cats out.
Let's back down.
My dealers know the real me.
Let's steal more of that feeling.
Talk to the ceiling,
I can't get hurt if I'm always healing.

(Chorus)

(Bum Theory)
Write a eulogy,
cite gratuity.
Proof it to a "T."
Shoe a sewer thief.
Scoop my tumor clean.
Lure a new regime.
Prove it to my team.
Assume a doer theme.
Recite a line or two,
like I'm driving to
a rival's primal tune.
Only time'll do.
A sign, aspire to.
Desire expires soon.
Fire the barbecue
and char me through and through.
Hey you would do it too,
a clue your mood is blue.
Is it rude to include my rule as true?
A grueling campaign,
that's fueling my pain.
I'm sewing the seams.
And I'm shushing the screams.
But I'm pushing my dreams,
though it's flowing upstream.

It needs to be louder,
I need to get higher.
Stuck headed downward,
it's fueling this fire.
It needs to be a bit louder.
I need to get a bit higher.
Just a couple more hours.
Don't douse out this fire.

credits

from I've Been Meaning To Write The Meaning Of Life, released October 1, 2018
Lyrics by Happy Tooth(except what Bum Theory raps!)
Beat by Bum Theory.
Mixed by Ryan Liptak.
Mastered by Mark Abrams.

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all rights reserved

tags

about

Happy Tooth Columbus, Ohio

"Both Happy Tooth and BDotJeff spoke to the idea that music can be therapeutic, and writing and recording is now less about reaching a larger audience than steadying the turmoil within. “You do start to question your own motivations, like, why am I doing this?” Happy Tooth said. “And I’ve realized that I love the art, and I have to make it because deep down it makes me feel better.” - MatterNews ... more

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