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Anxiety​/​/​Fabled

by the Ghostwrite

supported by
Barrie Cohn
Barrie Cohn thumbnail
Barrie Cohn Robby rules. Great friend and a very talented songwriter. Acoustic folkpunk stuff. Favorite track: Newspeak.
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1.
Heroine 03:13
How quick we forget. How fast we succumb to a lone, charming night. Please give it to us straight. Just give it to her straight. I'm tired. I'm weary. Oh, pseudo sanctity, you've treated us so well. Can't you give it to us straight? Just give it to us straight. Doesn't this tire? Am I the only one? Goddammit. Give it to us straight. You were the dead. Theirs was the future, but you could share in that future if you kept alive the mind as they kept alive the body and passed on the secret doctrine that two plus two make four. We are the dead, he said. We are the dead, echoed Julia. You are the dead, said an iron voice behind them. They sprang apart. Winston's entrails seemed to have turned to ice. He could see the white all around the irises of Julia's eyes. Her face had turned a milky yellow.
2.
Boa 02:50
The smear of rouge that was still on each cheekbone stood out sharply almost as though unconnected with the skin beneath. You are the dead, repeated the iron voice. It was behind the picture, breathed Julia. It was behind the picture, said the iron voice, remain exactly where you are. Make no movement until you are ordered. How can we not fear when we are the targets for bombs and propaganda? Rebellion again. The branches verse trees. If the rebels win we all are dead.
3.
A single thought sparked me today, but this is no goddamn comparison. Jesus Christ was a carpenter. I am a carpenter. Did similar thoughts ever enter his brain? Was it miserable? Was it terrible? Did he go willingly? Did she go willingly, thinking even if there's nothing, it can't be worse than this? Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ was a carpenter. Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! Did you go willingly?
4.
Later that day, after the Jesus Christ debate between my mind, I saw a bumper sticker. It said coexist. I felt a swell of hope. Merely fleeting, and then another thought attacked my brain. If we have to be reminded, is there any hope at all? Jesus Christ was a carpenter. Oh, warmongers, I wonder how much one should charge to nail another to a cross? Jesus Christ was a carpenter. I wonder how much one should charge to nail another against the cross?
5.
Deflation 03:48
With every pulse everyone's dying. So we buy. Denying ourselves of what we could have been. So when you're that old man on your bed, you'll scream out, don't break your back dying for a man, dying for the man. In one ear and out the next. So we buy. Suddenly, we're all in the race, fighting off the hordes, flashing our status. It's so pathetic, this consumption. So we buy. And I can be just as cruel as an atomic bomb. I can be cruel like you. Do you remember when you told me, I'd be the guy you married? Do you remember when you told me this? It was after you fucked your boss, after you fucked his wife. Oh manipulation. Take my money, take my trust. Go buy your pretty things and tell yourself, it's all you need; this is all your need. Oh, glorious collapse, when you come back, I will toast to your return. Oh, glorious collapse, when you come back, we will toast to your return. Until then, we'll buy.
6.
So Civil 03:27
The other day, I heard a man say, "it's just not right to be a fag." And the other day, I heard a lady, "maybe I'll hire some illegals, sure they're dirty but they're oh so cheap." And everywhere I go, I hear chatters of nuke the non-believers, wipe them all away. Oh the Bible, it tells them so. Or maybe it was the President? It told him so. Well, I wonder if the President's afraid of rotting in the dirt? And maybe that guy who hates fags is afraid of rotting in the dirt. And maybe that lady, she knows her money won't save her from rotting in the dirt. Well, I wonder if the President's afraid of rotting in the dirt?
7.
Newspeak 02:41
We are so content to settle in our beds. We're afraid of our debt. We're afraid for our future. We're afraid to connect. The illusion of security, it masks the reality of our future forlorn. So when somebody tells you, everything's all clear. We don't even blink. We nod and agree. We haven't been programmed to disagree. It's similar to any regime who justifies malicious contempt with believes that no conscious being could ever believe. But hey, everything's all clear. We're afraid to connect so I'm afraid to connect. And you're afraid to connect so I'm afraid to connect. Everything's all clear.
8.
Maybe I wouldn't feel so jaded or defeated if I could shake these thoughts and tell you how I felt, how I honestly feel. But how can I tell you when I'm convinced of your reaction? With certain words and certain thoughts, blacklisted. But hey people change. It's the only hope I have. So you tell me, darling. You tell me, darling. Because you know when I said it, obviously I meant it.
9.
I meant to ask you how you're holding up? Please tell me you aren't giving up. If you told me, you aren't holding up. I promise, I'd try to hold you up. Oh this distance is irrelevant, when the space we share is limited. I could walk to you, lay in bed with you, feel spirited again. Oh this telephone. I asked of censorship. It disconnected me. I can't take to hear our despondency. I wanted so badly to lie to you, to tell to you, we will persevere. But the drive we had, it disengaged. And then you told me, you love that girl. And I told you, I love that girl. We wanted so badly to walk to them. But rejection persevered. Rejection perseveres. If you tell me, you aren't holding up. I will lie to you, say the same to you. We will persevere.
10.
Faint 02:50
I would like nothing more than to settle down with you, to grow old with you. But I can't shake this. These selfish thoughts keep me from you. Oh, I'm just like them, begging to buy extra time. So I sit here and waste. Soon I'll be your ghost. Watching from the windowpane pleading, can I surrender myself to you? I don't want to be alone. Can I surrender myself to you? I don't want to be your ghost. I surrender myself to you.
11.
Gas Mask 04:33
To all this may concern. If you feel defective or dejected, you are not alone. Maybe there's salience in knowing everything dies. Our love will die. Our hope will die. Our feelings will die. You and I will die. We will recycle. You will return. Maybe in a shiny new suit or a fancy new car, hopefully in a new state of mind. Because that castle and that chariot, they are delusional. What we really need is a breath of air to ventilate the fumes that dull our conscious minds. We will recycle that shiny new suit, that fancy new car. If you feel defective or dejected, you are not alone. Maybe there's salience in knowing everything dies. Our love, it died. Our hope, it died. Our feelings, they died. You and I, we died. Do you remember driving in the shallows of despair when I could ask you anything? Oh, I want so badly to feel that way again. But to feel that way again, it won't be with you.
12.
One-D Motion 02:59
She asks, “How do we comprehend eternity? When will there be nothing, and what is it like? If I believed that I was stardust. I wouldn't be so scared I would know this is going to end. Why can't I make this end? We are all insignificant. This is all so meaningless. These equations don't add up. The motions seem so trite. I am disgusted with myself. This is me, giving up.” If I calculate the force and promise to hold you up, could I persuade you to change your mind? Let's pretend that we are stardust. Tonight will be our last. Let's drink in celebration, instead of in disgust. I can promise to give this much because, Goddammit, you deserve it. Tonight, we'll make sense out of nothing and pretend it all adds up.
13.
From inside here I don't feel like talking about anyone at all, to anyone at all. This rotation will have to stop. We waited for headlights, pleading, come and end this all. Cynically begging, will the pavement invite anyone at all? Quietly thinking, questioning absolutes. Is this fallible? I know I'm fallible. Can we have a code phrase for giving up? Like five sinking ships, two imploding stars. Thirty-three hours isn't much, but if this temporized, I'd be five sinking ships, two imploding stars.
14.
Driving back from Pittsburgh, listening to Clarity, for me this is Heaven. Oh, I prayed to God to grand me the courage to write something so prolific for her. It's so hard to pray when we don't believe in God. The realization that this the closest I'll ever get to heaven, spending time with someone who believes even less than me. Falling in love and wondering will she ever believe in me? To feel so lost so afraid. Fuck, I am so scared. And it's so hard to pray when you don't believe in God. But we all need belief in something, can I believe in you? If you asked me I'd tell you, please believe in me.
15.
Back in Pennsylvania, your presence never dulled. We drowned all night, splitting at the sides. Goddamn it felt grand to feel so alive. At the thirty-eighth hour I almost collapsed. The ideas unbound. Should I question aloud, is this it? Don't ruin this with words. So I bit my tongue, smiled and waved goodbye. It's back to Baltimore. You're off to Pittsburgh. Time unfroze. The celebration ends. And now we drink to forget. We drink to suppress the ideas that comes with our mortal flesh
16.
Charcoal 03:23
You might think this is vein, but I feel like Johnny Cash. No, friend, I'll never write a song quite as clever or relevant. No, friend, this isn't about guitars or words or attire. It's about attitude. It's about standing up and telling the Man, he's fucking wrong. It's about standing up and telling that man, he was so fucking wrong. It's about owning up and saying, I want to always wake with you. I don't expect you to believe this because too many people have proven words are quite enough. But hopefully you'll believe me when October comes. So we haven't found adoration, but goddamn, finding you is a start. If these feelings cement, I'm convinced we'd find Arcadia.
17.
If you called me a hypocrite, there would be no argument. I’ve sold out, been bought out. Now, I’m waiting for death. Goddammit, I tried my very best. It’s never enough. I keep falling off. I keep fucking up. And I could promise you anything, as nothing will ever let you down. We’ve all been here before. The voices keep screaming, “pull it, right now.” I don’t know why, but I can’t. Maybe it’s this undying love? It needs no promise. It holds no judgment. As soon as you feel it, you just might fight to survive.

about

This album was recorded in two days in October 2007 and one day in April 2008. Recording and mixing took about 30 or so hours. Most of the tracks are live takes with vocal doubles and/or triples.

credits

released April 30, 2008

Music and lyrics written by the Ghostwrite (Robby Lester). Recorded and mixed at Magpie Cage in Baltimore by J. Robbins. Tracks 1 - 11 mastered by Brooks Harlan. Album artwork created by Erin Gouldin

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Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.

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the Ghostwrite Pittsburgh

Braddock PA acoustic diy

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