1. |
King of Palo Alto
02:37
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|
take a 40 with you on the Pittsburg line
forty times I told you we'll be just fine
all this constant barking, I abandon my ears
dad's a slave to mom, mom's a slave to wine
when I stumble home there will be no cheers
if you get in trouble meet me back right here
we're the kings and queens of Palo Alto
don't you ask again where I'll be next year
I've got no complaints I'm a privileged bastard
buy me into Stanford, I just gotta ask her
major in C.S., join an Asian frat house
I don't give a shit, I just wanna pass out
aren't these tree-lined streets what you moved here for?
look like prison bars from the second floor
did you plan your escape out to MIT?
tell me how is life on the other shore?
if I strain my eyes I can hear the sea
birds are cracking jokes and laughing at me
I would crack their necks if it was cool to be violent
you steel your nerves and I'll steal the keys
will you look me up when you've made it out there?
if I'm still alive I'll come find you I swear
I might die as the king of Palo Alto
I wanna never find out
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2. |
Spanish Portraits
04:15
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take classes
take shots alone in your room
disappoint yourself
cause there’s no one around to be disappointing to
psychedelia’s played out
replace it with 90s nostalgia
well I wasn’t there, and my 2010s
are golden age of bullshit
flower haired girls on festival grounds
who sold out and cut out their hearts and
buried them under the hardwood floors
of their beautiful midtown apartments
she’s still in med school
and it means nothing
her walls are empty of the
Spanish portraits that once watched over her
another industry is collapsing
she’s finding out that 3.8s on resumes are worthless
well I’ve read the books, I’ve read non-fiction
history, biography, there’s nothing there that could prepare me
for when Palestine’s on fire
Saudis killed their own reporter
fuck the borders
fire up the cloud computers and stream the horror
addiction is a disease
so don’t get mad at me
I’m not the enemy
she moved out to Dallas
got into local craft breweries
“never again” read the posts
and still twice monthly
there was a killing spree
she turned off the notifications
and read biochemistry
her dad drove to the e.r.
and barely survived the alcohol toxicity
“withdraw should have killed him,”
the doctors informed her so patiently
I’m done drinking alone
and I’m done taking these calls on the balcony
the past is in flames and
my sisters are fractured eternally
it’s Cortez’s fault
or it’s nobody’s fault
oh build a fence, build a wall, build a wall
her dad’s in Houston somewhere I guess or,
he’s back in Mexico poisoning himself again or,
he’s floating face down, drowned in the rio grande
and she’s taking a stand
she is not like him
she is not like him
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UT Kirin Austin, Texas
Bedroom indie rock project of one HR Huber-Rodriguez.
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