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• Artiste: Otem Rellik
• Titre: Friday
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I got the paint roller blues, and I’m having a bad day I want to scream my throat raw, but I got nothing left to say So I’ll stay humbled and quiet And jot down silly little words and phrases Make faces at a reflected past and break vases wearing a phony arm cast Believe my miserable little lies, because I’m honestly starting to myself The shelf life of a quiet kid, who died twice trying to remove his heart It looks fun like the television, with pretentious infections and eye liner But nothing’s as far from absolute zero than your fake drums and real problems Another album down the drain, another wasted weekend And I’m just another blank face in the crowd I spend my Fridays bitching about myself While the weekdays are a day job where I pretend to act proud about my life It’s cycling itself away with fast food, chemicals, and loneliness I kiss the lips of the encoded static and shake hands with a hologram just to taste your success The year of the computer complex I’m lost in the mouth of a smiling clown Drowning in warm flat soda pop, or drifting away in a sugarless coma It was just a joke but no one is laughing Now you’re the enemy behind lines and under lungs No breath released, the air is saturated Further anticipating the subtle movement of a tongue Off the record, and just between us I haven't been this happy in milliseconds The daily space of whispered noise is for me and all my empty carbonated friends Bulletin boy with something to write about Public policies are what mostly persuade me A derelict with an agnostic outlook, monitoring plane collisions and laughing with the victims Material girls rule this world now with expensive dresses and a fast lane lifestyle There is no man behind the television And no magic behind technology So ready your rifles, the new humans are here with new concepts and old clothing I stuff most of my speech into little notebooks And my headphones are leaking a half day closing