1. |
An Introvert Love Song
03:56
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I’d love to write a love song,
But the words don’t come free.
Just a thin verbal drip, on condition
Of blunt analysis and irony.
I thought the words would be there if needed.
I thought the words would be there.
Any self-expression fills me with such shame.
Any self-expression leaves my soul constrained by stone.
Any self-expression and I fear I’ve lost some game.
Well, screw the game; I hate playing alone.
A young man, captive to an unlocked room,
Reviewed the rules he’d proposed:
Keep emotion on a precipice, ready to jettison,
Should it leave you feeling overexposed.
I told myself they’d be there if needed.
I told myself they’d be there.
Any self-expression fills me with such shame.
Any self-expression leaves my soul constrained by stone.
Any self-expression and I fear I’ve lost some game.
Well, screw the game; I hate playing alone.
I’ve never written a love song before-
I still haven’t.
Any self-expression fills me with such shame.
Any self-expression leaves my soul weighed down by stone.
Any self-expression and I fear I’ve lost some game.
Well, screw the game; I hate playing alone.
Any self-expression fills me with such shame.
Any self-expression leaves my soul weighed down by stone.
Any self-expression and I fear I’ve lost some game.
Well, screw the game; I hate playing alone.
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2. |
Comfortable With Silence
03:58
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Please don’t ask for kindled flame-
I’ll fail without timidity.
‘Til distance always stays the same
No matter our proximity.
Such a brutal act of violence;
I hardly found the verdict fair.
She’s never comfortable with silence
Even when I thought it was shared.
When voices next fall dead,
Let me guide you through your dread-
I need you to feel the total stillness.
Words themselves will seem to plead,
“Our absence isn’t apathy,
Just the comfort we take in your presence.”
When voices next fall dead,
Let me guide you through your dread-
I need you to feel the total stillness.
Words themselves will seem to plead,
“Our absence isn’t apathy,
Just the comfort we take in your presence.”
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3. |
Surrendered By You
04:08
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Call it posthumous, but it’s
Never past humor.
Once shined luminous, now we’re
Run through with skewers.
Thank God you’re not a good person yet,
Thank God you haven’t matured.
I just can’t give up the grudge;
I need to know you’re worse.
Was I surrendered by you?
Processed and rendered by you?
Too many precious memories
To form any sufficient certainties.
I know my solitude was
Viewed as deformity
By kids so conveniently
Forgetting they’d forced it on me.
Thank God I’m such a good person now,
So free of hate and fixations.
And not obsessed with the past
Or arrogant affectations.
Was I surrendered by you?
Processed and rendered by you?
Too many precious memories
To form any sufficient certainties.
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4. |
Charm Offensive
03:24
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Shake his hand and you’re hooked,
His tie and smile never crooked.
He’ll never mutter or glare,
So long as that no one asks him to care.
Must be so draining,
Must be intensive,
When every interaction’s
Nothing but a charm offensive.
He’ll know your name, ask after your health.
A drive he won’t bring to anything else.
Happy to go with the flow,
So long as that no one ever says “no.”
Must be so draining,
Must be intensive,
When every interaction’s
Nothing but a charm offensive.
I can safely say that I was shocked
To hear him speak of me and mock.
My little feud never expected his attendance:
A garden flower; I’d thought him radiant and senseless.
Must be so draining,
Must be intensive,
When every interaction’s
Nothing but a charm offensive.
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5. |
Bombast [Demo]
02:14
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No color palette
Is calling for neon-
There must be something more subtle.
Each tone a mallet,
With senses to beat on,
Until the message is muddled.
Oh-
Bombast won’t bring me to truth.
Oh-
Is this ambition or is this uncouth?
The tailored suit hides
A broken carcass-
What’s left of heart on my sleeve.
The soil dried, but,
Well, I gleaned the harvest.
And granted myself reprieve.
Oh-
Bombast won’t bring me to truth.
Oh-
Is this ambition or is this uncouth?
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Andrew Schneider Chicago, Illinois
Andrew Schneider is a multi-instrumentalist based out of Chicago, writing and producing Art Rock, Jazz, Indie/Alternative, Psychedelia, Post Punk, and more. Andrew is inspired by XTC, Talking Heads, Joe Jackson, David Bowie, and any other artist who refuses to commit to a single sound or style. ... more
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