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about

lyrics

If only I could get this stupid song done
Finally, would be happy
Uh
Function with its own rate of change
Yeah!
Or complex imaginary

I’ve slid down
That slippery slope be-four
Five-got to kiss
I will not fail until I fail the next time
And it’s coming back to

This cliché ‘bout quantity of fish in the sea
Got me
No arm floaties
Ow hey
That old rod bent off awkwardly
But!
It’s baited masterfully

And the memories assaulting sleep
And dreams
The cringe in heaps
Stacked on my Zs
They’re terrifying me
Eternally

I always thought that I would miss you
But now it’s in a different way
Count down the times I would not try
To fall on my face
And now it’s coming back to you

I see you like your fucking punk songs
I’d sit and play them all day long
Then lay all night
On a pull-out couch
Sad like a miniature ice cube tray
I’d say anything to make you feel

No use ‘round pretty girls
Now I’m down on my knees
Like a nut that fell from a tree
A fallen seed
No most won’t succeed
Bumblin’ all the way
Left that sheltered path where some say
Let’s get married

[Whoa hold on now baby]
[You want to know my password?]
[I’m just not ready for that kind of commitment]

[Perhaps I can interest you in a guitar solo instead]
[Oh yeah, just wait until you hear this next part]

Obsession’s got you hamstrung
Treadmill hedonic
Forget the ‘s’ that’s in the front
Oh I’m creepin’ up on ya
I’m creepin’

I see you like your fucking prog songs
I’d sit and play them all night long
Then lay all day next to Lentil Soup
One evil dragon that I can’t slay
My curse of nothing good to say

I simply shouldn’t care
Be a part of the weird
Undeclare any air of self
Awareness it ain’t fair
This Pinkerton pop pulled pork parade
Struggling all the way
It must be your last time in love
So get married

credits

from Synchronized Seasoning, released June 3, 2021
Drums by Travis Orbin.
Other stuff by Pete.

license

all rights reserved

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about

Pete Peterson

Hi, my name is Pete and I make songs from time to time.

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