We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Cellar Doors

by The Dead Ends

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Purchasable with gift card

     

1.
Yellow Belly 04:41
In the waiting room, I see a woman. My desire for her is startling. I try to crack a smile for her stare, but the openness is not something I can bare. I’d love to ask her her name— play the part, lead a silly game. The cost is too high: I fold again, scared of the possibility of pain. ’Cause I’m so scared to talk to you, afraid of what you might say or do. The scab, it flakes and scabs again like nothing I say will ever begin to fix the problem I’m not willing to face. Let’s deny the fact that lead to replace… I built myself a strong fence. I sat long and hard in silence. The gravity of loneliness pulls me in to never know where to begin. I felt the rhetoric building slowly: sight of the sound brings me to my knees. Over time, it takes strong forms into night sweats and poems. ’Cause I’m so scared to talk to you, afraid of what you might say or do. The scab, it flakes and scabs again like nothing I say will ever begin to fix the problem I’m not willing to face. Let’s deny the fact that lead to replace… I haven’t spoken to you in a while; the truth leads me to denial. Except when I fear for my life, Jesus Christ, I need to sacrifice. ’Cause God, I know of Your plan, it led me to where I can’t begin. I haven’t seen your face in the clouds: a reflection in my eyes full of doubt. ’Cause I’m so scared to talk to you, afraid of what you might say or do. The scab, it flakes and scabs again like nothing I say will ever begin to fix the problem I’m not willing to face. Let’s deny the fact that led to replace… ’Cause I’m so scared to talk to you, but I don’t know what to do to patch the scab as it flakes again and God knows I don’t know where to begin. I’ll never fix the problems I’m not willing to face. Here’s a song fit to replace… I’m fine being benign. I’m fine falling behind. I’m fine facing time. Just don’t make me rewind.
2.
As I wait for my medicine, my pharmacist smokes cigarettes and the smoke moves slow like insects in wintertime. You reminded me of someone I once knew. As I trace the lines of your frame I realize why, and call out God’s name. And your words move cocaine fast, and transcend the time we’ve got left. You reminded me of someone I once knew. My Muse left me years ago. Now, it’s really starting to show. As I lay down in bed, I repeat what you said: You reminded me of someone I once knew. I’m calling an ambulance again (another panic attack again). I don’t know where to begin, so I’ll start off with an end.
3.
Good luck (finding yourself a man). One that will: kiss your eyes, and you can lay down beside. One that will: live the lie that you keep inside. One that will: read your mind, and be so kind. One that will: wipe your tears even before they appear. One who will: put his cards on the table—show you he’s able. One who will: come to your rescue when you need saving. One that will: heal your pain once you take his name. One who you can surely expect to be everything except me. Good luck (finding yourself a man). Good luck (finding yourself a good man). Good luck (finding yourself, again).
4.
Embalmer 03:10
The steam, it’s fogging up the glass, beaded now and falling fast— freezes at the bottom now, piled into pools of snow. I followed you outside just to watch you unwind. I peeled back your fuselage. I spoke to your demons in time. You’re most alive when you’re about to die. Listen to the dead; repeat what they said. Don’t let it seal you in it’s time tomb. It’s the fate you face that keeps your heart straight. I preserved your memory like an Egyptian mummy: canopic jars of organs, and you wrapped in strips of linen. But give me something new, give me something different. I've seen enough to know I need to see enough. Nausea: Go away. Memory: Stay away.
5.
She said I reminded her of Jesus, but I couldn’t see the resemblance. I haven’t broken the bread and fed my friends. I drank the wine turned from water, then threw it back up later. I’ve tossed my seeds among thorns and dead trees. I saw a light delayed on Damascus. Now it’s so bright I can’t stand it. I never washed her dirty feet with my hair on a dim street. I tried to walk to you on the water, but sank when I faltered. Oh, but I’ve tasted your hands, and built rocks up on sand. She says I have gifts bestowed from Heaven above. I’m just trying to know my self and love my self, love. It’s a paradox, I say, you, being the safest place. I know all but nothing. It’s a place to start for something. I got the pills that will help you see. I got some pills that help me believe. And if I could, I would start the stop. I’m not anyone’s savior. No, I’m not a savior; I can’t even save myself. I can’t start the stop to save myself.
6.
Sticky Heart 02:59
Slow down with the metaphors— you’re going way too fast. Splitting them like a simile, an analogy never lasts. But hold it tight, you might feel it, if you’re lucky. Give it back, it was never yours— your heart is sticky. Every one of you tastes the same. It’s only when you love someone that they taste any different and even then it’s just an illusion; you’re deceived, it’s not hard to see. So give me back, I was never yours— your heart is sticky. A past fleeting daydream becomes a present actuality and leaves the future a memory. How can I write when I can find my mind? How can I heal when I can’t feel time? So give it back, it was never yours— your heart was sticky. I don’t want to know what I have to know. I don’t want to go where I have to go. I don’t want to show all I have to show. I don’t want to know what I have to know. Even you would say the same, God knows I’m to blame. Even you would say the same, If you really looked at me. Even you know it’s a game. Even you would say the same, If you really looked at me, You’re never all I see.
7.
Sin Tax 02:40
You must be dead by now, for too many years have passed. Love does not exist until you’ve created it. You must have lit the green light across the bay. It glowed like my desire for what I could never have. With the coming heat, she left me alone to feed the plants along the cellar door, and to wait for what’s in store. We spoke of God, sex, and art— things that transcend time. I kissed your cold tile, saying, “You’re the only thing not moving.” All I know is that I don’t want to die alone. Every living creature must eventually find a home. But all I have is this disconnected phone. Please God, don’t leave me here to die alone.
8.
Hallelujah, it must feel great to brush it under the rug. Hallelujah, it must feel great to lower your standards. Hallelujah, I haven’t spoken to you in five months. Hallelujah, I hope you are not doing too well. Hallelujah, I think I’m finally over you. Hallelujah, I lie to myself just as much as you do. Hallelujah, I’m here. Hallelujah, I’m wrong. Hallelujah, I’m through. Hallelujah, I’m gone.

credits

released December 3, 2010

All songs © 2010 Loud Poetry music, ASCAP.
All songs written and performed by The Dead Ends.
All rights reserved.

Recorded, Produced, Mixed, and Mastered by Nick Williams at Inner Peace Security Studios in West Point, Georgia.

All lyrics by Will Fargason
Cover photo by Kayla Miller
Layout and Design by John David Wright
All drums written and performed by Matt Pike.
Additional guitars by Matt Pike.

The Dead Ends are:
Will Fargason (vocals, guitar)
Cody Boss (bass, vocals)
Jordan Haden (drums)

www.myspace.com/thedeadendsrock

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

The Dead Ends Auburn, Alabama

contact / help

Contact The Dead Ends

Streaming and
Download help

Report this album or account

The Dead Ends recommends:

If you like The Dead Ends, you may also like: