This morning I sent a postcard to the left side of the world. It said, "I'm thinking about you," and, "I hope you're well." It's crazy to think I thought I could fall in love with someone other than my best friend. The one I love. I've been gone a long time looking for the right sign, something that could validate this mess I've made. Spilled my guts out, threw my heart up, and all I've got to show is a postcard. I put pressure on empty gestures to fill the void with purpose and pleasures, to pull it together, but I just can't keep up... Somewhere across town there's a boy having his first drink with the guys. I wonder if he's nervous what I'll think now that he's not like me. But then again I'm not like me. I'm someone else. I'm "in between." It's crazy to think I thought I could fall in love with someone new... Elsewhere I'm stumbling down an alley, alone. I'm tired, so tired, I just want to come home.
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this album is like if vampire weekend and the front bottoms merged and made a band with nate ruess. it's at once fucking beautiful and catchy, and nostalgic and kinda fucky feeling in a really cool way. and the trumpet on James Taylor is goddamn inscrutable whalleyrulz
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