F​[​_​]​ck Depression

by WereWyatt

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Only Magic Left is Art
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Only Magic Left is Art WereWyatt tackles the folk-punk genre with the same intensity as Andrew Jackson Jihad with a tad more symphonic swag. Rich eclectic lyrics with eccentric vocals make this album a must-listen. Favorite track: I'm a Dying Medium.
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about

New WereWyatt solo release to help pay my way through school. Trying to better myself. Thanks to my family: mom and dad, all my aunts and uncles and all of my siblings and their spouses and children and future children. Thanks to Evie for spending so much time with me. Thanks to my distant friends. Thanks to my band Werewolves (who I save all the good songs for). Thanks to Jack and Robby and Kate and Kim for still being my friends. Thanks to Eddie for letting me borrow the trombone and to whoever left that blue Ibanez bass at the Plush Palace unclaimed for like over a year.

credits

released November 8, 2013

Wyatt

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Athens Horse Party Athens, Georgia

A DIY bedroom-based CD label from Athens, GA. Click on the trees above to see the full discography.

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Track Name: I'm a Dying Medium
I still remember patiently playing games with a nosy doctor

who quoted William Carlos Williams on a wheelbarrow glazed

with rain water. I said "strangely I can feel this courage

shining from the Morning Star down through a sunrise to

which it doesn't lend a hand and plays no part of"

My life feels completely out of sync I wanna know how did I

end up turning 21 in the year 2010. I'm lost and I don't

know where I am or why I'm terrified of everything on the

internet and feel safer with no phone

I never wanted a little screen with some directions to be

shown, sometimes I just wander a bit too far and like a

skinny dog I run the whole way home

I heard you lost a week or two of your memory cuz you tried

some obscure benzo you ordered off of the Silk Road. You

crashed your car and lost your job while I worked mine for

60 hours and swam the depths of sadness for killer overtime.

I guess it was worth it, I toured a bit and got too meet up

with some friends, but do I deserve this? or something

better? or something worse? I guess it all depends on who's

asking the question...

Is it some naive kid who grows up to be an anarchist or his

dad who still gets up at 4 AM at least 6 days a week? I'm

kidding you not he comes home each night at 7


My life feels entangled by the past, all the cheap nostalgia scattered on fragments of video tape all dubbed to VHS


*Credit to William Carlos Williams and Erowid trip reports for inspiration*
Track Name: Sorry, Atahualpa
Don't confess all your plans just now, you're a fool if you don't think she will sell you out. Discretion and professional courtesy can be waived in matters of the state. And she doesn't bite on the hand that feeds with its claws trained hard on anyone who bleeds, it doesn't matter who believes you. It matter what would happen to them if they let you get away with it.

All the temples are in ruins now and all the armies turned to dust, while those strong people did what they wanted to do, the weak suffered what they must, and then it echoed into the hallowed halls all the awful thunderous sound of Spanish steel and Spanish guns... Atahualpa's litter drops him on the ground

And that monolithic evil that you sought to overthrow it is older than the ground that you're standing on, it's older than you'll ever know, so your nation will walk down the Trail of Tears, all your children disappeared never to be seen again. Athenian sails crest the horizon and you know exactly what that means.

*Credit to Jared Diamond's "Guns, Germs and Steel" and Thucydides' "History of the Peloponnesian War" (by way of John Green) for inspiration*
Track Name: Drainage Pond
We saw this movie about dragons, it got such terrible reviews. You can imagine the chaos of six teenagers, nothing to do, in an empty theater. Who would've bothered to remember it at all, six years down the road?

Some fast food restaurant that sells chicken sandwiches and not much else, some adolescent experiences turbulence, beyond all control, and he had only just found these few survivors and not much else. With everything to lose for the first time it matters but some disasters are unstoppable.

And he saw a monster in front of his reflection. And these are the pictures you keep when you're in waist deep, climbing over the guard rail to the drainage pond behind the ampitheater, so you can sneak out to some escape into a sea full of parking lots

I hid behind the used book store, called some friends from class to pick me up, and then suddenly you're in front of me looking silently determined and we're face to face when I feel the wheels swerve but this is not the car crash that I deserve

And you start kissing me for some unkown reason and then we're behind the grocery store in the woods I used to sing about but we don't live in our memories these days and your face gets murkier every year. I lose all of you people one by one I swear you'll all be pictures in a yearbook before I'm done
Track Name: Bad Examples
I was too young to go and fight in that new war, I didn't know if it was a curse or a blessing, all these kids are coming back home from Iraq now, glassy eyed as hell and it's so depressing how we said "Oh it won't be like Vietnam this time, no you won't be remembered that way." Free cheeseburgers at the local restaurant, half price admission to the matinee.

And that school finally let go of that teacher who wouldn't talk about Harriet Beecher Stowe, she said that book was exaggerated and there were parents who were sad to see her go, cuz they teach us by bad examples.

I remember asking the woman at First Baptist, I must've been only 10 or 11 when I met a kid named Osman Yusafzai and I asked her if he would go to Heaven. I was reading ahead on my own time, it was all about loaves and fishes and anointing the sores on the feet of lepers and camels passing through the eyes of needles

But no one is keen to the irony all the disonance in the way that this city sings in the gated off neighborhoods with the golf course and the club house and the camera surveillance to protect our precious things

And oh I was born to believe in this vision and immediate authority and the way it's all painted, in the niceness of stop lights and four lane expansions and how my school of excellence shall never be tainted

Someone teach me to give in to the hubris, to follow the greed in my heart with conviction, somebody teach me I how I can stop worrying and learn to love this contradiction
Track Name: Demon from the Past
This demon from the past it always shows up to embarrass you at the worst times when you're at the party feeling sociable and yeah you're all dead set on letting it all out on the dance floor but all your friends are in the kitchen doing shot shot shots with the demon from the past

Now it's such a cliche how they're all in there playing flip cup and he found all these slides of all your failures and regrets and he doesn't even ask to use the slide projector, he just sets it on up and now everyone there is laughing at your life

And a bad thing from the future heard that a party was going and gets blacked out Xanax, cuz mixing it with alcohol was counter-indicated. He can clearly see all that now, or he could at least if he wasn't dead

I think he got punched out by that demon from the past, I heard a bunch of people yelling but I couldn't penetrate the circle that they formed around whatever that was going on. That night was all bad vibes and that straw brought the camel down

None of your friends can hold their liquor like they think they can, "designated driver" they all cackle like hyenas as you ferry them to their beds, cuz everything's a riot now: you only danced to one song

I think you deserve better friends. I would've danced with you if we were just better friends.
Track Name: ("You Are..." suite) I. I'm a Lycanthrope
Ghost of a planet who collided into us left all her bones up in the sky and you can feel them pull the water, we wobble to and fro head bowing to the sun, we need her like we need the weekend, we need relief from all this spinning around

So we wait until it's dark and you can see that shiny skeleton, it lights you like a lantern glowing from the inside until you tear off all your clothes and jump into that water trying to quench it out

And when the pigs show up for once you're not afraid, you know they're more intimidated by your naked boyd, their noses smell the free expression they can't access, and you watch their faces grimace as they swallow venom and saliva down

You laugh it off as you walk down the empty street, listening for the faintest rattlings of those fossilized teeth, the way they grind against the wind it almost forms vocalizations that say "you are not..."
Track Name: III. Laser's First Trip to the Lake
True story, last New Year's Eve I passed out before the count down even started, now it's not a Thursday and there's no jet black hair dye, I'm not on LSD I'm just trying to be open-hearted


I might clean this room today with the help of "Betti Cola" or "Yank Crime" and we might sit in the dark in the middle of the kitchen drinking 40 ounce drinks we bought to help us pass the time, and you might get pissed off cuz you can't vote against the drone war, the foreign policy debate was such a joke, but try try try to keep the bitterness at bay. Please don't burn your own friends when we're all already choking on the smoke

St. Francis of Assisi marks the graves of the dogs that I was raised beside, and now the soul of Laser's treading water in a man made lake, in an afternoon that I have to believe God will provide

In an afterlife I have to believe his God will provide

And from the afterlife I still hear his funny way of howling out his last goodbyes

"You are not a failure and I won't give up on you"
Track Name: Fuck Depression
There is not too much wisdom in all of this narcissistic self destruction, no matter what change you see it bringing on, it's not like immolations in Tunisia or Vietnam. There's not too much foresight in all of these dark premonitions that you're sure will come true in time, you don't live in the world inside your head, you can only go up in there to die


So is it just more self-aggrandizement if I assure that to pay you back how I would burn alive, to right the wrongs of my caustic self, to reverse the perverseness and to undo the damage dealt. How I built up a structure of meaning and hope and sent seismic waves bringing it to the ground, I don't wanna turn them inward now as this dramatic monologue is more broing than profound

And all of the scenery is laughing derisively at me cuz I can't remember the pages with the circled numbers in the book of 95 poems that I thought could signify everything back when I was loneliness inside of a falling leaf, when I was autumn and the rain, the rain, the rain

So if I blow up, leave a marker there written to someone else. Make it say "fuck depression, live life like you love yourself"

If I burn down let me grow green and new from my charred out shell and tell me "fuck your depression, live life like you love yourself"

*credit to e. e. cumming for inspiration*