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Self​-​Portraits

from Livertalk by Bucky Harris

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lyrics

Drop D - Self Portraits


It’s the same old tired threat
The absence of purpose
I’m trying to forge some routines,
But in search of consistency
I keep stumbling over familiar roots
Patterns breed boredom, now ain’t that the fucking truth

I feel it in my throat
It grows, it grows, it grows
Living in my mind, there’s a version of me
He’s the picture of health and by all means he looks happy
The funny thing is that the bastard never fucking speaks

Cut your losses, and start all over
Maybe this time, you’ll get a little further
Burn your clothes, they’ve been weighing you down,
There’s a suit on hold that we’ve been saving for just this moment

It’s the same old tired thread
This inevitable restlessness
I keep falling back into my old ways
Improvement is exhausting, now ain’t that the fucking truth

I feel it in my throat
It grows, it grows, it grows

Living in my mind, there’s a version of me
He’s the picture of health and by all means he looks happy
So why is that his smile gives me the creeps

credits

from Livertalk, released July 29, 2022

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Bucky Harris Montréal, Québec

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