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lyrics

This whole is settling
Slowly sinking into its grave
The motion doesn't bother us
We have nothing to save

Rachel sits on a folding chair
Inches from the TV screen
She doesn't seem to care what it shows
Much less what it means

In the corner of his bedroom
Dylan's got a little shrine
Icons of Jung and Campbell
Arrayed in pristine lines

As for me I'm spending most of my time
Watching pigeons in the park
Hoping desperately for insight
As I stumble around in the dark

Just one among the phantoms
Confined to this plastered hell
Are we really seeking answers
Or just excuses
For remaining unwell?

The kitchen counters are covered
With discarded take out detritus
We all point the blame at one another
Desperately hoping that someone will fight us

Dylan's developed a limp
John says its psychosomatic
We all flaunt our brokenness
Narcissistic and melodramatic

Rachel yells at her mother
On the telephone every night
We all understand the impulse
But I guess that doesn't make it right

Just one more destructive behavior
So common in this plastered hell
Despite all our protestations
We're all addicted
To being unwell

credits

from Winter Of Our Discontent, released April 12, 2020

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Headless Relatives Troy, New York

Headless Relatives play songs. These songs feature desperate individuals, bittersweet memories, and ancient Egyptian gods. Some of these songs can be found here.

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