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Insomniac Blues (or, I Will Not Support You In Falling Asleep) - EP

by L. Mounts

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1.
Coward 03:35
I'm the member of the group in the back of the train Writing lyrics to express emotional pain And I make crude jokes to myself cause it's better to shut up I'm the partnerless kid in the chemistry class Everyone picked someone but I never got asked I work better alone but I'd like to be trusted for once I'm the kid that eats lunch in the hallway alone And then shoots up the school at the end of his rope Which I can't repel off of 'cause I'm too scared to die I'm the guy that chokes up when he talks to cute girls Cause every time it happens they ruin my world And I don't know anymore how to even try I'm a coward, coward, call me out I'm a wimp, I'm a pussy, I'll always back out Of anything that requires confrontation I'm just the absolute worst person you know I'll love you for a second and never let go Then find somebody else when you give me your rejection I'm the family member at Thanksgiving dinner Who stuffs himself silly and never gets thinner I still get self-conscious taking off my shirt during sex I'm the outcast of outcasts, they threw me to wolves When they finally manned up and said they were too cool To hang out with me and ignore everything that I said I'm the kid that eats lunch in the hallway alone And then shoots up the school at the end of his rope Which I can't repel off of 'cause I'm too scared to die I'm the guy that chokes up when he talks to cute girls Cause every time it happens they ruin my world And I don't know anymore how to even try I'm a coward, coward, call me out I'm a wimp, I'm a pussy, I'll always back out Of anything that requires confrontation I'm just the absolute worst person you know I'll love you for a second and never let go Then find somebody else when you give me your rejection But at least I'm accepted when I'm up on stage And I'm bleeding my heartbreak and anguish and rage And when I go home tonight there's not one thing that's going to change I'm a coward, coward, call me out I'm a wimp, I'm a pussy, I'll always back out Of anything that requires confrontation I'm just the absolute worst person you know I'll love you for a second and never let go Then find somebody else when you give me your rejection
2.
Allergic 06:07
I am in the passenger’s seat of a car, looking down at my phone, and all of a sudden we pull into a parking lot. It’s Evanston. I look at the driver and see a skinny Indian man who I don’t recognize, and definitely didn’t notice upon entering the vehicle. We both step out of the car. He and the car disappear and I am alone. I look at the address on the building we parked by. Five hundred something Foster street. SafeRides. What the fuck? I don’t drink. I then begin to think myself into a drunken stupor for justification. I walk out of the parking lot into a post-apocalyptic version of downtown Evanston, you know, by the theaters, where there’s the Urban Outfitters and the American Apparel and whatnot. It is empty, except for an oblong-bodied version of a girl named Carmen who I only knew from my math class Sophomore year. She has wings and is flying around. Kristen Bell walks towards me in a very stressed manner. I hold her, stroke her soft, beautiful face and tell her, “Everything’s going to be okay. We’re going to get through this.” Jack Black runs to us screaming, “DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT THE HELL YOU’RE DOING?! YOU’RE GOING TO DISRUPT THE EVOLUTION OF HUMANITY!.” We storm off past him into a shop, where various people walk around. It is initially a pink-walled store, but there is a section in the back that is divided into two parts: one for items relating to God, and one for items relating to Satan. There is only a voiceover of Satan speaking, telling us what to buy. Satan hates everything. We ponder, though, and ask him, “C’mon Satan, even beer? Everyone loves beer!” Again, what the fuck? I. Don’t. Drink. There is a quick silence, and he replies, “Okay, yeah. I love beer,” and everyone cheers, and I awake. I still feel a little dreamy though. I see visions of a different beautiful girl, though one unrecognizable. I picture her in the same car in the same parking lot that began the dream. She is dead. Presumably from driving drunk or from a drunk driver. Why am I having this reoccurring imagery? I then picture a white room with a human-sized test tube branching off into different tubes. A woman that looks like a cross between the aforementioned unidentifiable woman and my latest ex-girlfriend floats naked in the middle of the tube, seemingly unconscious. After twisting and jerkingly being pulled into various positions, she is sucked down one of the tubes, never to be seen again. I follow this scene up with a reflection of my most suppressed memory, and I realize, though this is technically “waking up in the middle of the night,” I’ve gone to bed later than this the last five nights. I figure, I must tell someone about this, someone that isn’t the notes app on my phone. So I go to my laptop, wake it up in a similar manner that I awoke myself (suddenly), and turn the brightness up one notch. I go to my recently revived Twitter account and see a friend of mine post these five words: “I am allergic to waking up.” I feel that her and I have similar allergies. More so than that, we also have similar interests in the musical world, but I believe, unfortunately, the interest in each other is one sided (guess which one). It was, for a brief moment, years ago, mutual, but of course I ruined it like I do most things. And because of my strict rule I don’t think that it will ever be a possibility that her and I could be together, but then again, why the fuck must I wrap myself up in these things so much? It is a weakness I will never shake. So, I respond to her, she responds to me, I respond to her again, she responds back, I respond one more time and then nothing.
3.
Leave 06:51
A bluebird flies down south for the winter To get away from the cold, frozen bitter There’s a pile of snow in the canyons Deeper than the tone of my heart’s palpitations You know that someday I’m gonna fly Deep into the southern sky And I will leave this all behind I’m not gonna say goodbye when I leave When I leave you won’t remember me A tree grows its leaves in the spring To shield itself off from everything There’s freshwater flowing in the rivers And I feel the emptiness getting bigger You know that someday I’m gonna swim I’m gonna find the strength from within And I will get what I give There’ll be no farewells bid when I leave When I leave you won’t remember me The air becomes thick, dense and humid To remind us all that we’re human And if we can survive through the heat Then we can survive anything You know that someday I’m gonna run Against the beating, boiling sun And when I pass out, I’ll know I’m done I’ll be surrounded by no one as I heave And I gasp for fresh air And nobody is there To rehydrate me When I leave, you won’t remember me
4.
Beautiful 08:49
This winter has left me cold And I'm done with myself And life's getting old I'll sleep when the sun comes up And shines bright in my room I hope it never does My arms are still empty now And I'm trying to fill And get up from the ground My legs are more weak than strong And I'm walking away Farewell and so long It's a pattern I fall into, can't get myself out I'm enveloped in my sadness, you don't know what it's about It's your body that I dream of, the most beautiful of things And I still get a little choked up every time I have to sing And I still get a little choked up every time I have to sing And I'm dreaming of white Christmases, but only half-asleep I can give all that I have to you but that's not what you want So I lay here in solitude with Jian Ghomeshi on in my headphones The way that things appear Aren't really there And aren't even near My life is leaning on The crutch of my past Mobility gone I only smile when I'm not in my home And I'm dancing again My heart will only beat When it thinks it has Something to receive It's a pattern I fall into, can't get myself out I'm enveloped in my sadness, you don't know what it's about It's your body that I dream of, the most beautiful of things And I still get a little choked up every time I have to sing And I still get a little choked up every time I have to sing And I'm dreaming of white Christmases, but only half-asleep I can give all that I have to you but that's not what you want So I lay here in solitude with Mark Kozelek on in my headphones And this song isn't for anyone but me But if the deaf choose to hear and the blind choose to see I will tell them stories and act them all out And then they will all know what my sadness is about 'Cause this isn't for effect or embellishment at all My phone sits by me, sterile, waiting for a call That I probably won't even answer I'm married to loneliness And when I lift up the veil I know I can fix this But I wasn't born with the right kind of skill set To make it all better And I long for attention of the intimate persuasion And if she can be obtained then I want to go get her And I will hold her till the planets fall And I will hold her till I feel nothing at all
5.
The winter rolls on in And midnight rolls around The room is dimly lit By the cold snow on the ground My throat is sore, I'm weary I can't seem to start dreaming I've got some brand new feelings I tell them to my ceiling The hidden light bleeds through While I think of you It only happens once a year And I wish that you were here To lay with me and watch the hidden light A streetlight changes colors Off deep in the distance Past the sleeping mothers Leaves the shadows tinted My hands are cold and restless They're trembling as they write this They'd like to interlock with A pair of someone else's The hidden light bleeds through While I think of you It only happens once a year And I wish that you were here To lay with me and watch the hidden light The woods are weak and fragile The trees show naked branches The teenagers light matches And smoke away conditions I drink a a glass of ginger To get me through this winter You make things so much clearer I can't wait till I see you The hidden light bleeds through While I think of you It only happens once a year And I wish that you were here To lay with me and watch the hidden light

about

Five songs written during the sessions of recording I Will Not Support You In Being Alive, but not included on the album itself (for time reasons, obviously). Some of my proudest work.

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released December 31, 2013

All songs written, composed, produced, mixed, and recorded by L. Mounts

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L. Mounts Chicago, Illinois

Singer of songs. Abstainer of substances. Bringer of plagues.

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