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SEVENTY/THIRTY MUSIC

Of This I Am Certain

by Townies

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1.
Gallows 03:04
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Even best laid plans of mice and men Prove ill advised I wonder why Cause I’ve been stumbling sentences with romantic intentions in a constant state of flux I’m fucking done I crumbled up My best suit and stuffed the whole thing in the damn ceiling Falling asleep on the back porch Riding around in your dads car Nothing in life could be better Than pouring on a drink on the front porch Stumbling drunk through your moms house I don’t ever want you to change I’m not so sure of much but of this I am certain That I feel this way about you That I’m falling off the grid I’m not so sure of much but of this I am certain I am closer to the gallows than I’ll ever be the throne Falling asleep on the back porch Stumbling drunk to your dads car Nothing in life could better Pouring a drink on the front porch Puking my guts in the back yard I don’t ever want you to change I’m not so sure of much but of this I am certain That I feel this way about you That I’m falling off the grid I’m not so sure of much but of this I am certain I am closer to the gallows than I’ll ever be the throne I’m not so sure of much but of this I am certain I am closer to the gallows than I’ll ever be the throne
2.
Phillip, Burn The Piano 02:29
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I been making eyes at your ceiling fan I been making questionable decisions My words remiss and break your skin like a surgical incision And my apologies are like Tanzanite from my lungs Still shine like diamonds Oh a blurred face on a divine waitlist, My gods wasted at the corner bar I saw your savior He was begging for change screaming “everyone’s the same” We all are I spoke my name in foreign tongues Introspected over months to learn You can’t change your burnt out flickering attic bulb alone so I came home So I said my prayers and went to bed But I don’t think the message sent Fucking God left me on read With a microscope to my bones Cracked and bruised but they don’t show Cut the throats of snow angels And my head has gotten big That my old halo don’t fit Anymore It’s not even close So you sit around At your old desk Suicide note It’s your fifth draft
3.
Auzzy's Song 02:23
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Well I could fix an evening coffee Play some Kingdom Hearts or something Chris is playing Animal Crossing On the couch sitting beside me And we’re hanging in the living room May as well be called a dying room Cause with how little we’re contributing to society We may as well be dead It’s imperative we light a dog 70/30 or nothing else Watch MacKinnon hoist the Stanley Cup But the fucking Dubs took down the Celts I am paralyzed below the neck Half sleeping on this old leather couch Turning down the lights as Nolan turns the dial up on Midwest Nothing There’s just so much pressure on us To stand taller than our fathers before us How are we supposed to send the kids to school without leaving our beds Until the afternoon? I wanna move around I swear to God but it just sounds so hard So when I fix the morning coffee I sure hope you stand beside me Manufacturing a moment Pressing chalk against the concrete I could tidy up the living room Hang a painting in the hallway Call my parents just to hear them Call a friend and say I’m sorry
4.
Faux Pas 03:07
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My friends have been attending funerals again Overall their lives are looking grim Call it karma consequence Is it a bad thing that I’m not even reacting While your tears soak through my shirt sleeve Couldn’t force myself to cry Well I’m not ready to die But I feel ready to die Sorry that you went and wasted on me All your precious limelight I can’t write this sequel, the storylines gone dry Well I’m not ready to die But I feel ready to die That I might have a fit of sanity and let you in my life So here’s to the faux pas Here’s to the time between my reply and you asking me where I stayed at last night I’m over running over the same Excuses that I use on the day by day I’m getting over running away Sorry that you went and wasted on me All your precious limelight I can’t write this sequel, the storylines gone dry Well I’m not ready to die But I feel ready to die That I might have a fit of sanity and let you in my life
5.
Jake Hemmerlein 02:53
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I have got a lot to give This head is barely holding on This head is starving This heard is hardly hanging on This head is dead I don’t have recipients This head is barely holding on This head is starving This heard is hardly hanging on This head is dead We stumble and slip through the city of Boston Growing old lonesome fucking exhausted
6.
Filed Away 00:56
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I’d like to file a claim To refund all the miles I spend driving Drawing circles round this toxic town Singing ‘long to songs I’ve loved since seventeen Cause I’m far too proud to pay A doc with a degree To ponder why the color leaves my face When I divulge a detail worthy to be wrote down in a file with my name And file myself away
7.
Dogyard 04:01
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Say it to my face like you mean it That I will die alone Desperate to be misunderstood Recollect to pass the time Your ellipses warning sign What could have been If you say, if you say so Say so Nothing more and nothing less To genuinely genuflect and reconcile for pain that you effect Shatter the stain glass Regain your balance Act like you’ve been there Abuse a substance I’m not your savior I’m not your saint I’m not your escape plan from this place I don’t mind feeling lonesome all the time I’ll be fine staying till closing time I’ve all but given up on love Nothing could ever be enough I dragged the dog out by the shed Growing tired of planting flower beds I don’t mind feeling lonesome all the time You’re so far away
8.
Medicine 02:56
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Last call to escort all internal faults off of the premises To make their way around by sundown Because the truth is I’ve been drinking all these memories to nothingness Unfortunate, subordinate I quit Let’s do that drug that you mentioned Olfactory organ Darwinism Cause on this medicine I can’t feel anything It’s got me questioning If I can work this all out Cause on this medicine I can’t feel anything It’s got me questioning Cause on this medicine I can’t feel anything It’s got me questioning
9.
Rust 03:13
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When you’re on I am off I keep singing to myself Clean the room, take a walk I keep singing to myself Hang a memory on your bedroom wall Everything’s innocent til it’s not I keep singing to myself It’s not that I don’t love you I’ve just forgotten how to Mark me on your headstone Only if you want to If something isn’t stable I’m willing and able To be strong enough for two Whatever works, I guess What’s your name, I forgot I should listen to myself I’ll come in, if you want I should listen to myself Former friends and lovers all move on Im okay if you care but you don’t I should listen to myself It shouldn’t be so hard to Make decisions simple Be a good example For people needing people It’s not that I don’t love you I’ve just forgotten how To at all It’s not that I don’t love you I’ve just forgotten how to
10.
Flip Lunar 02:45
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I am on the mend Bottle up and play pretend Measure medicine I can hear it whispering to me And it says You don’t need all them But it’s all It’s all in my head Wake up There’s a world out there I am on the mend Still stumbling sentences Mispronounce your name Watch Apollo 13 on the plane Won’t you stay won’t you stay won’t stay Wake up There’s a world out there Wake up There’s a world out there

about

We continued our glide along the slick asphalt, winding up and over the crests of powdered hills that stretched out onto the horizon. It was 11am in New Hampshire, and the sky was a friendly blue. We scanned forward through the dashboard at the snow embankments that lined the two lane interstate, dirtied by salt and grime, watching as they glistened and leaked under the weak sun. Late winter in New England always held a meaningful contrast, especially the cloudless days - everything around us remained cold and dead, yet the brightness somehow prevailed and warmed our skin. Familiar landmarks began to appear as we approached New London.

credits

released April 12, 2024

Recorded and Mixed by Joe Reinhart at Balboa Studios in Los Angeles, California
Mastered by Ryan Schwabe
We're Trying Records

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Townies Boston, Massachusetts

we play broc rock brotherrr

boston/los angeles

WE'RE TRYING RECORDS

SEVENTY/THIRTY MUSIC

townies is:
tom lynch
chris magnani
nolan melia ... more

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