I Clung to You Hoping We'd Both Drown
Scotland, I Wish You Had Stayed.
A House with an Old Cuckoo Clock
Good Morning Answering Machine Baby
In the Absence of Everything, I Promise to Keep You Warm
It's Sunday, April 19th and I Miss You
It's Thursday, January 12th and This Is the Last Time I'll Talk About Drowning
Lately I've Been Feeling Tired of Everyone I Know
Learning to Hate You As a Self Defense Mechanism
On the Porch of a Home Built in 1943
On the Porch of a House Built in 1943
Scotland, I Wish You Had Stayed
Someone Who Will Talk About Anything
The Cowardly Lion Doesn't Write Love Songs
Waking Up Early to Leave This Place
Waking Up to the Big Drill Pad
You Had a Panic Attack in My Bathroom
You Know How to Make a Boy Feel Warm
You Know How to Make a Man Feel Useless
You Wanted to Look for Help, I Wanted to Sit and Wait to Be Rescued
You Wrote "Don't Forget" on Your Arm
along the old tracks in the snow shed
everything we saw that day and how you made me feel
good morning answering machine baby (free)
i can hear the birds chirp outside
i guess it could be looked at as an escape, or a chance to start over
i lost control (dusty cassette version)
i promise i'll find you the second i feel okay
i'm so concerned about the ending that i don't even know the plot
in the absence of everything, i promise to keep you warm
it always gives you a chance to run before it attacks you
it feels like i've been traveling through this cave forever
it's sunday, april 19th and i miss you
lately i've been feeling tired of everyone i know
learning to hate you as a self defense mechanism
losing the interest and trust i had in you
mayday (a short reminder of who i was and who i'll never let myself become again)
nothing good comes from being gone
remembering a room that isn't there
scotland, i wish you had stayed
someone who will talk about anything
somewhere in the distance, somewhere toward the mountains
the act of holding on and letting go
the art of not thinking about it
the cowardly lion doesn't write love songs
the repetitive nature of everyday life
waking up early to leave this place
waking up to the big drill pad
we haven't spoken in years, but knowing you felt like a dream
you can write about what you want
you had a panic attack in my bathroom
you said remembering would feel too much like moving back home
you wanted to look for help, i wanted to sit and wait to be rescued
you were a home that i wanted to grow up in