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by Two Houses

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Unfriend me. I’m living for allocated Diet Cokes now. They pilled me down and out and I got no shoe strings but I got demons drowning me in an inch of water. Everything tastes like quarters. Remember: “It’s not me. It’s the disease.” “Amazing Grace” reverberates off the marble and fresh polished metal where I keep catching my reflection and, sure, I’ve got a dead man’s eyes, but I’m still breathing. I’m still breathing and goddamn I wish that was enough, 41 northbound back to my baby, headache visions of taillights and rent checks. Phone rings and she’s got to work a double, “Yeah, of course hun, I can do the dishes.” If I could just hold on to the space between the notes. Keep holding on.
I keep a Bible on my bedside table now. Guess I’m one of those drunks. I crossed out “Genesis” and wrote down “Cannabis” and now I’ll never forget just where I come from. It’s never going away if you believe Jon Stone. I fall on my knees and it leaves me alone. Isolation, render me divine. Isolation, bury me alive. Wow, I’m totally crossing the rubicon. Now I’m gonna be fine forever. Yeshua, Yeshua, I don’t leave the house. Hosanna, hey-sanna, give me a son. Fill him with illness for sins I’ve done. Hosanna, hey-sanna, sick, sad and stupid for all I’ve done-- my only one.
Coffee got my cock like coke again. Jim Miller on my case, like, “Do you think you’ll smoke again?” I’m lonely like when smoking was my only friend. Least I’m not broke again, I guess. This is the cynical sound. I needed space to come down. It’s easy when you’re not around until I hit the ground. Lazybones, why are you standing on my love? I hate when you’re at home but I can’t be alone without your songs. Honest to god, I’m going crazy, my baby. I’m going crazy. The feeling! The feeling!
Good love comes easy to those with good luck, you best believe me. I’ve been sleeping in my pants with my penis in my hand. Pixelate me, eight-bit daydream. Madeline, comfy in your clime, in due time, leave me behind. On the airplane, little boys are better than me-- diet, exercise, vocabulary. Palpitations ‘cause I miss you, ‘cause the caffeine, ‘cause I’m out 200 bucks from cancellations. G’d up for a night of masturbation. Pixelate me, eight-bit daydream. And I can feel the walls are closing. 95, where I learned to fly. When you cry, I’m ready to die. And I can feel the walls closing in.
Wake in the afternoon, shivering in the daylight, first goddamn sunshiny day of spring. Feel the breath through The Veil. The sweat beads on my forehead whisper, “This world ain’t worth it-- shut the blinds instead.” Some days it’s not so bad: I comb my beard. I tell my wife I love her. I water the houseplants. I smile when they bloom. You know I never even once punched a motherfucker in the mouth for asking, “What do you do chief?” No. No, I’m a thawing comet of hubris hurtling toward the sun. Watch me catch fire. Watch me fall apart. Every now and then I fall apart.


released October 6, 2017

written and performed by Two Houses
recorded by Ryan Smith and Two Houses
additional wisdom courtesy of Jon Olson, Jared Olson and Joe Gac
mixed by Dan Tinkler
mastered by Matthew Barnhart
art and layout by Tim Reynolds
thanks to The Sandman


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Two Houses Chicago

Triumphant sad bastard music. Reliable rock n' roll.

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