Car Lyrics

I always tend to come up with lyrics while I am driving. Probably because I get inspired from all the amazing bands I listen to on my commutes. Who knows, but I try to type them in my notes on my phone quickly so that I remember them later. I have close to 100 notes on my phone of random lyrics. Some, I can’t even put any context to, yet they are all something I have felt at some point, so here, I will write them down. And I pull from these a lot for inspiration for lyrics I write for YA.

• It comforts me to know that with every bad decision made, I’m constantly bringing myself close to the grave. My sick sense of positivity, happy that there’s one less day of me.
• I’ll smoke my lungs dead, you won’t have to listen to me anymore. Forgot I can’t make someone even fake giving enough of a fuck about me. Your facade perfectly masked the selfishness underneath. 
• What does it mean that I would give you everything? ‘Cause it’s scaring the living hell out of me. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing, been rotting away from what’s inside of me.
• Told me sometimes that you love me, started to feel more like you hated my every fiber. Taught myself I deserved all of that, that no one would ever be willing to love me back. If I could let you slip underneath my skin, I swear you’d come crawling back out.
• The language of us has become the language of you. The words that you say have become your only truth. You fit into me like a splinter in a hand. I could never love you as much as you hate yourself.
• Why am I this way? That sounds so god damn cliche. 
• She said I’m always trying to argue, a bone you pick to back me into a corner.
• Would rather sit at home gettin’ high, letting every minute pass me by, than ever really go outside. ‘Cause somehow sitting at home gettin’ high, letting the hours fly by, makes me feel way more god damn alive…than any of this.
• There are ways to die without being dead. Could never figure out what that meant. Sleeping’s something I was born with knowledge on how to do it, but I still can’t seem to get even that right.
• Are you still finding me there? Pieces of my hair everywhere.
• Tried to be your morning sunrise, your breath of fresh air. But you just wanted sunsets in smokey basements, suffocated.
• Still wish I was dead every single day, but there’s a piece of me that wants to stay. That would miss waking up each day to the same old bullshit, the constant headaches.
• Always too much for everyone, but never enough to love.
• So close, your breath like fingertips on my cheeks.
• Mediocre. Like a benign tumor, neither good nor bad. Most choose to remove, some have to keep. Never out of love or necessity, just the lack of tools.