Self​-​Titled

by True Story

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02:40
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03:37
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released April 3, 2013

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True Story Arlington, Texas

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Track Name: Soft Spot
I'm still getting used to having to settle, and I'm slowly getting there, but something just doesn't feel right. I'm not sure if it's these broken bones, or these broken things that you left here, but either way, I couldn't care less. 'Cause I'm content with this apartment on Matlock and Arbrook, and the Goodwill couch is always waiting. The bible beside the bed's pages keep falling out just to remind to me that even being faithful can hold you down. Two months ago I never would've known. The smoke clouds in the living room hold an overall background of hazy dreams, nostalgia, and uncertainty. This rooms full of it, and I can hardly breathe. But Jacob will be back tonight. He said around that time we'll find a soft spot when we're done talking about lost dreams and old memories. For now, I'll watch video game intros a thousand times, and semi-transparent glass around the lights casts growing shadows in my direction. They're all going dead. We're all going dead.
Track Name: Great Value
Only the young die young. i'm hoping I get older so no one feels the need to call me good. They don't know what they're speaking of. We're buying Great Value brand with a crumpled bill I found in my coat pocket. We're making the best of it. Now I'm standing on sore feet in worn out shoes and overactive air conditioning. We'll try to turn a new leaf over, but they're all dead. And I haven't crossed that path yet. I'm asking more than I need, just a thin sheet, a little growth, and some personal hygiene. I'm looking across the table seeing sad hearts behind smiles, but I'll keep going. I'll learn to stay on my feet. Ending relationships for reasons I can't quite understand yet, and now I'm sitting in a parking lot deciding between changing times and friends. I left the car unlocked hoping to find something new when I returned. There was just an empty backseat, a dirty ashtray, a couple old shirts, a few less memories than I intended. It looks like my hands the only one left in on this.
Track Name: Hey Grim, Chin Up
Parting ways from this city and this ignorant place. They don't know how to live, and they spit in life's face. Empty wallets and broken watches are hunting us down. My car still feels like trying but I'm breaking down. I'm walking home again, it's the third time this week. I haven't payed my rent, but I'm picking up cigarettes so I'll make it. And no, it's not uphill both ways, but it still feels the same. The sights of these street signs that aren't mine are the only thing I own. The sidewalk's getting a little bit more friendly. The sidewalk's getting a little bit more, and every inch of concrete's making it harder to find me. Patches from my shoes aren't quite hand in hand. This metaphorical Park Springs is everything but easy, but each step is making me as tough as my Vans. Another day that has taken up my night, I swear I'm just fine. Sleep never seems to coexist with halfies and double shifts, but my friends say I'll make it through this. I'm hoping for a problem that's easy enough to solve to keep our heads up and our hearts sound. We'll keep our heads up and our hearts sound. Hey grim, chin up. We'll fix the holes in your scythe in hopes of better luck.