Pop Song

by Ryan Chapin Mach

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1.
03:14
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credits

released February 1, 2015

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tags: genre pop Gambier

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about

Ryan Chapin Mach Gambier, Ohio

Bitterness is different, it's hit or miss with listeners, so I limit the risk with that symptomatic distance.

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Track Name: Pop Song
I'm sexting alone at the MoMa, and I can't remember why.
This Giacometti is sexy, it gets me, and technically I'm really high.
Well, I'm not paying $25 to spend some more time in my mind-
Yeah, I'm the saddest thing to ever happen since the crucifixion

That's fine - I wasn't prepared, no one made me aware that the money
Would lie. And I can't go home, cause I don't wanna know what being Home is like. And people are dying to tell me they don't think that I have a Spine, but I still walk upright.

Weak and dependent, "like" if you meant it
Or drink and pretend that nothing's wrong.
Pretty or ugly, you're gonna love me:
Give me your money, I wrote this song.

There's no more bad news, only lessons and bad reviews in the Times:
Oh please God, protect us from the Vietnam protestors turned Reagan electors but God,
God only listens to people with satellite dishes and anxiety,
Yeah I'm Christ if God sent him in denim, I'm the True Religion

I'm lost - I wasn't prepared, no one made me aware that the money
Would stop - and I can't go home, cause I live on the phone with the friends I got. And people are dying in places I'm trying to save with my Talk, cause I can't watch.

Weak and dependent, "like" if you meant it
Or drink and pretend that nothing's wrong.
Pretty or ugly, you're gonna love me:
Give me your money, I wrote this song.

Forget what you've tried, forget what you've heard
I'm not the voice you'll like, I'm the one you deserve
And the hip ones are nice, but they'll die without a word,
And I'd rather get paid to do your dirty work

Weak and dependent, "like" if you meant it
Or drink and pretend that nothing's wrong.
Pretty or ugly, you're gonna love me:
Give me your money, I wrote this song.
Track Name: Indian Ashtray
Dying in the snow - it's soft and slow, you're warm and wet.
I'm settled in - nobody ever told me there was back then,
Now I remember and it's mid-December

You just came around in a West Virginian town, and kept pounding, pounding doors until you held me down.
It's just like it sounds, how it was a cigarette away and now it's an Eliot play in an Indian ashtray.

Let's go in the back room and
I'll try to attack you
We know this, we know better, we know this, we know better
I'm tangled in your necklace and slowly eating breakfast
We know this, we know better, we know better

Fall was all trombones: it was overblown, as I would understate.
And I still hate the football games because I can't let go,
I should have never been home, watching someone else's throne.

But I was late, and April had me hiding from what I hate.
The trees were in love by May, then school was out.
Who's letting me down? What am I lacking?
You wanna know why I'm sad? It's cause I'd rather be happy.

Let's go in the back room and
I'll try to attack you
You know this, you know better, you know this, you know better
I'm tangled in your necklace and slowly eating breakfast
We know this, you know better, I know