Turn on the screen
We’ll play the scenes in which we are not nemeses
And try to hold the static glow
Until our conscience falls asleep
(“What are you waiting for?”)
Let’s guild our vice in sequined lies
And practice both our alibis
And though we close our mouths
If somehow the truth comes out
He’s your problem, don’t make him mine
Here’s to our dear departed friends on our TV screen
Left us in broken-hearted apathy
One more stake through the heart and finger that rosary
Now the white noise is off
She wants to talk to me
“What are you waiting for?” she said
So convinced that you’re different
While entwining our dirty hands
But we both know the way this ends
And did you know
Just days ago I said I was not the type...
credits
from Precariously Arranged,
released February 3, 2019
Music and lyrics by John Norwood
Arrangement by Upstate Escape
Engineering/Mixing by Milton Georges (Hot Pump Studios) and John Norwood
Mastering by LANDR
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