The Hangout Thread, Tildes, and Italics

I know you're coming in the night like a thief
But I've had some time, O Lord, to hone my lying technique
I know you think that I'm someone you can trust
But I'm scared I'll get scared and I swear I'll try to nail you back up
 
So do you think that we could work out a sign
So I'll know it's you and that it's over so I won't even try
 
I know you're coming for the people like me
But we all got wood and nails
And we turn out hate in factories
We all got wood and nails
And we turn out hate in factories
We all got wood and nails
And we sleep inside of this machine
 
I'm not larger than life, I'm not taller than trees.
Do I mean what I say? Is it just this disease where I never go home.
Never telling the truth how this life eats away.
Not admitting I'm fake
And I'm questioning whether this whole thing was worth it to die poor and all alone?
 

And I look so strong
When the weight of all the world
Don't take its toll.
And I'd choose my sides
If I believed in what was right,
But I'm all wrong.
 
This isn't who I am.
From confidence to self doubt in 60 seconds.
Storming stages and stereos from here to there,
Trying to prove that I belong.
Trying to win approval from people that I don't know.
 
And I just started paying attention to the lyrics :( It was too loud when it started but people have left...
 
John Nolan
69,012 plays (5,128 listeners)

indie, singer-songwriter, rock, ambient, emo

John Nolan is the co-vocalist/guitarist of Taking Back Sunday and the former lead singer of Straylight Run.

John Thomas Nolan was born on February 24, 1978 in Rockville Centre, Nassau County, New York, but grew up in Baldwin, Nassau County, New York. … (read more)


Should have way more listeners...I didn't know he was born in February :0
 
Marry me, he said, god, he's ugly, but fortune is ours
Running in the gardens enjoying men, women, and flowers
Then I break a glass and I slit my own innermost thigh
So that I can pretend that I'm menstru...well, unavailable
 
Oh, what beautiful things I'll wear
What beautiful dresses and hair
I'm lucky to share his bed
Especially since I'll soon be dead
 
We're coupled together through hell, hurt, and hunger
Or at least until husband finds someone younger
Yes, fertilization is part of my station
I laugh as he drabs me in anticipation
Of sons who will run things when I'm under covers
But whose children are they? Why, mine and my lover's!
 
But, oh, what beautiful things I'll wear
What beautiful dresses and hair
I'm lucky to share his bed
Especially since I'll soon be dead
What beautiful things I'll wear
What beautiful dresses and hair
I'm lucky to share his bed
So why do I wish I was...
 












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