all the sad songs

by vowel

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released February 13, 2012



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vowel Columbus, Ohio

chris moore.
tim cartwright.
amelia bango.
liam harper

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Track Name: icicles
their fear hangs down like icicles. (melting. sinking cries.)
these ghost town citizens protest our occupancy of this town surfacing into an uncertain day; even more uncertain months and years.
you don't care what you do, but i do, for some fucking reason. how was oakland? and your boyfriend? i hope he took you to all the fancy places i never could take you to in your birthday month.
your picture still hangs on my wall for some reason. it might be the memories, might be treason.
i'm not sure anymore, ask me when i'm done.
i hope that landmass sinks into the sea with the both of you.
and i've ventured interstates through oceans of trees.
every day is the same but i know it's everyday that i change.

i know that you let this rose go. pedal by pedal, like the days we knew were numbered, like the days we knew we would quickly throw away.
Track Name: if wishes were coins
i won't go back to when my days all overlapped.
i won't go back to when my feelings were unsurpassed.
i wont' go back. i don't want to keep living in my past.

i won't go back. no.

you came suddenly like a hurricane or a splinter.
i felt like the rain was falling over.
you laid your fragile bones by the shore, still breathing and safe. through the camera. in my last moments you were impaled by your answers.
i don't want to forget, i just need to fucking quit.
you left me standing here, knee deep in the atlantic, clinging to ghastly memories, lost in your shallows. and i will never change.

and when the sun came down, i didn't feel any different.
and when the sun came down, i thought i left these ghosts buried in the ground.

we traced the cliffside as if we knew anything else. we held to each other like the grains of sand you so quickly gave away. i fingertip-toed your waistline searching for something deeper inside of us.
Track Name: poppy seed
i'm your cupboard, i'm your cardoor, your dartboard, i'm the dress you never wear anymore.

these winter nights don't feel the same without your arctic embrace and your pale frame has never felt so distant. i've been fighting this battle since the 3rd of october. we were outnumbered but that has never stopped us before, and now the wind is singing me your name, and my hat is off to you.

i tried to call you once i finally got home but you left me hanging like the dial tone.

how can i divorce my perspective from what i've been told?
Track Name: cowards
today marks day thirteen behind the wheel. i'm not even sure what i'm running from anymore.

"i wont sit by as you run away."
"...but you know how it is. this time of year changes us."

as long nights turn into mornings i still feel alone. i'm not even sure why i'm here anymore.

why run from what i can't escape? the wolves at my heels are tearing these weeks away. i no longer care what you leave or take from the years we spent. i remember the sun lime through the leaves. i felt i could touch the sky, the ocean with my hands. and my feet once planted.

this distance between us gives no comfort.
i've already forgotten your name.
Track Name: the eastern block
now we see the colors shining through the stained-glass windows. i just wanted to see if i could do it; if i could let everyone down, so i wouldn't have to claw my way any higher.

my chest is like a bombed out city, hollow, empty, and full of debris. my eyes won't even open. if i could, i would take your hand away from here, but your wrist is chained to mine. where we are is who i am.

i remember sleeping in, bathed in light, sleeping deep, lost in each others embrace, like pieces to a puzzle we never could complete.
i remember your city...

tell me, once the vultures die, who circles? will it be us in our own sad drill spin to the center, even deeper if we could?

we aren't the people that we were before, i barely recognize you. who you are is nothing that i wanted.

"you say i'm comfortable, yet your calloused hands couldn't keep us together. your hair is growing thin and the seasons are changing. i wish i could cry."

i remember your city, and everything you made it out to be, the warm lights shining through the night.

you sat in your room, in the comfort of your home.

in time you grew proud and finally embraced your name. now i am thorn in your side. go live in hell.
Track Name: she was an air traffic controller
she sat alone, crouched in silence in the airport observation tower; cold, sad, and tired, just like always. jet streams have become memories and the only thing for her to cling to.

will this be the last night she survives?
she knows there could be a flower for that auburn hair out there somewhere. but she won't find it here.
she will be alone tonight in the pale glow.

now she sits in the smoking lounge at chicago midway. a cordial gentleman offers comfort in the form of a smile. she remembers warmer days, but now everything is temporary.

and the thought of sabotage brings a smile to the lips that haven't curled that way in sometime.
these passer-bys know her best, which is barely at all.
and when the sky is filled with fire again, she'll sit back and sigh. friends come and go this way, curled, burnt, and barely recognizable.
in this new year the only thing falling from the sky will be the metal graves: the caskets she made for herself.
Track Name: there's nothing for you here
from far away this feels like a closed-casket funeral as i trace your frame on this parchment. long hallways to nowhere: this is where you see yourself in five years. and i'm not sorry for the words that i didn't say, that i couldn't say, that i never had the chance to say. this may seem like a tragedy with open arms, but i'm tired of not getting any sleep. in a couple days we'll take flight into violent skies, and holding hands for the last time; i'm afraid to die.
in case of a water landing, i hope you know how to swim. i'm treading in the shallows with a thirst for unrehearsed apathy, and you know it. i'm terrified to see your call to arms.

in these months we tie ourselves to the scarves and jackets we can barely separate from our skin, we find people change and things change.
you're growing out your beard like you saw your father's. the way you knew you always would be, and his name isn't something you can erase. these months we spend hiding inside paper thin walls filled with holes... every sound. every time. these old houses we haunt without a fixture.

sometimes i feel the century closing in. everything i know will be cast in stone.