I Think I'm Going To Throw Up

by Patch Kit

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04:27

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released April 29, 2014

Recorded by Jonathan J. Abarca @ Whitehouse Productions in Shelton, CT
Assisted by Kyle Ryan and Justin Sullo

Additional Recording, Mixing, & Mastering by Jonathan J. Abarca @ JJA Studios

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Track Name: Sleeping With Socks On
Everything I do feels like I'm selling you out. Everything I do feels like I'm letting you down. I wanted to impress you, wanted to make you proud, but I am all alone, one hundred miles from your house

The thing that you said about me becoming more recognized than even you on your best nights... I hope you were right

Sometimes when I can't sleep I pretend yr thinking of me but I know it's just the coffee and you shouldn't think about me. I wanted to impress you, wanted to make you proud, but I am still alone, one hundred miles from your house

The thing that you said about me becoming more recognized than even you on your best nights... I hope you were right
Track Name: Write A Poem About This, Geek
I only liked you dressed up in drag and I will only want you 'til you want me back. I hate the way I am and how I'm supposed to laugh. I hate the way I am and how I'm supposed to laugh.

I don't mind you in your disguise. Are you surprised? And so tonight, I'll design my demise. Everything's fine.

It's not a joke to me. I don't find it funny at all. My mind's where it shouldn't be. I cringe every single time he calls.

I don't know why I thought it'd be alright. I don't know why I even bothered trying.

You and you only know just how dark I can be. What if I "died in your arms tonight". You and you only know how desperate I can be. "Never you mind".
Track Name: Stutter Vs. Stammer
I can't stand this room. It must be time to move. I cuss out the moon and hide my pictures of you. Is it just like me to be this mean? Careful how you speak, I may not come clean.

I don't believe in anything. Does that make me naive? I don't believe in anything. Fuck what I want, I've got needs (that I have to meet).

I dressed up in the nicest clothes I had, with nervous coughs and uncomfortable laughs. I'm driving drunk again on your behalf. It starts and stops and stutters 'til the crash.

Should I say I'm sorry? Should I say I'm sorry? Should I be sorry?

All these things I thought would save me won't. Now I'm afraid that I should not come home. All these things I thought would save me won't. Embrace the emptiness and up the dose.

Should I say I'm sorry? Should I say I'm sorry?
Track Name: Losing Weight & Gravity
The days are getting longer but the heat still burns my eyes and the bands always sound better from the bathroom or your side of my bed, through the mattress, through the box-spring and the pillows, up the pipes from the basement. My head is filled with awful things my mouth tries not to say. Kids clog up the kitchen, keep the hell out of my way. I am not well. This is not okay. Now I'm wasted, so don't take a word sent your way seriously.

I know you're lonely. I know I'm not. I am sorry if you forgot. You are lonely, but mostly I'm not. I'm sorry that I kissed her... I guess I forgot.

I hate the way I'm made up / curse the year that I was born. I trusted you to change me, but now I'm worse off than before. This fever that won't quit me leaves me anything but pure. It's a plague with no name. Your cough is still the only cold that I could never catch. Your lips are still the only ones that I could never kiss. I made a promise to myself that I would stop acting like this. But I can't pretend that you're worthless. No, I can't pretend that you're worthless.
Track Name: Blackout
You don't call me, and I am sorry. You don't call me, and I am sorry. You don't call me, and I don't want me to want you to call me. You don't call me, and I don't want me to want you to call me anymore...

Everything about the last two years makes me sick, makes me sad, and scared of myself. And on the phone you'd always know when I was lying on my bed. Yeah, you could smell it on breath, chocolate, or peppermint, or your favorite. Save it, I won't say it.

You know I've learned to sit real still. You know I've learned to keep my mouth shut. You know I've learned to lie to my friends. You don't know I've learned what train she rides in the morning.

She could smell it on my breath, toxic and desperate, that you were my favorite. Save it, I won't say it.

Everything about the next two years makes me sick, makes me sad, and not proud of myself. And on the phone you'll always know how bad I miss you, because I'll tell you.

But you don't call me, and I am sorry. Yeah, you don't call me. I'm so fucking sorry! I'm fucking sorry! I'm fucking sorry. Can you forgive me?