Young Luck

by Sorority Noise

supported by
/
1.
2.
3.
01:32
4.

credits

released October 4, 2013

tags

license

all rights reserved

feeds

feeds for this album, this artist

about

Broken World Media Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Independent record label releasing and distributing music, visual art, and literature

contact / help

Contact Broken World Media

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Track Name: Queen Anne's Lace
I wrote you a book of poems and you forgot to take it home so if you're leaving let me know, because you're the only home I have I've taken all the books I own and put them on a shelf so I can read to you each night before you throw yourself away I'm not saying that I'm right, I only want to say goodnight. I'm not perfect, that i'm sure, I only want to be your cure.
Track Name: Mediocre at Best
Nobody likes me, that's what i tell myself. I live alone in my own hell. I want to be the person you want me to be that I know that I'll never be. Nobody likes me, I hear it everyday. I talk to you to remind myself again. I feel at home here, because i'm alone here. Nobody likes me, and that's all I hear. I spent a lot of time last year learning that I don't like me too.
Track Name: Still Shrill
I thought i'd grow out my hair to see if you noticed, and I'd start dressing nice to make you believe that I'm alright. I'd start playing sports to be more like my brother and my dad might be proud for once in his life. Or maybe I'll drink myself to sleep because that's what I'm used to, and when I wake up I'll feel brand new. I'll start tanning my skin to feel more like my mother, because I am a ghost in size small clothes and I guess I could use some color. Maybe I'll smile, just like my ex-girlfriends. Because they can feel love, but I can feel anything. So I thought I'd write you this song so you could get noticed. You could sing it along with your friends, in the back of their Mercedes-Benz and me and my Volvo will be fine, and maybe i'll close my eyes to feel more like myself.
Track Name: A Brief Dissertation on a Night Spent Talking in a Boston Accent
I won't cut my hair in hopes that all I ever was can grow alongside who I am today. All I'll ever be is a gas station bouquet of roses a last minute thought and a waste of air. I won't smile a lot but I won't cry I sure as hell won't let anyone inside I still don't sleep most nights not because I'm scared but because I'm not alive