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Astronautalis - Without A Two Weeks Notice | Текст песни

It's just a job and like any other I've ever had
I need a couple bucks to pay some bills fast
Food, clothes and gas and all that crap
So I get a shit job and work at it, cat
I close my eyes and go through the day to day
Nine to five, get a minimum wage and leave all the same
Spend a couple bucks on beer, clothes here and there
CDs, records, and tapes and that's it, dear
Move along down the road and get past
I don't need references just a drug test
And I pass despite the stems and seeds
And I try to make the best of everything that I need
So I sit there, don't make any friends
Just lift the boxes, load them on the shelves and that's it
It seems nice enough, a nice little warehouse
I work there all alone - they leave me in the place
And they lock the front door, leave me alone
They don't trust me, think I'll steal stuff and go
But I don't really have any interest in owning this crap
I just want my wage and I'll leave it at that
So I say thanks as they lock me on in
My first day on the job without any friends
And they gave me my instructions and my little coat
My uniform, my back brace and that's all she wrote

So I do my damn job and keep my nose clean
Lift box A and take it to rack B
I walk around all day counting the seconds
Headphones on, singing to the walls just reckless
It's funny how you're in a big building alone
You start talking to the place like it's someone you know
And you tell it all the things that are buzzin' in your brain
That been burning in the back of your head all damn day
Little secrets and lies, jokes and notes
Little observations that you tell no one you know
You wouldn't even whisper these things to the mirror
Or talk to your dog or couch and make your observations clearer
You just keep 'em locked up in your heart
'Till you get this big room to tear you apart

As you stare at the smooth grey walls
You see lines and chips and patterns that form
At first it's little geometric shapes
Your little notes, scraps, receipts - patterns displayed
Like constellations hidden inside the stars
Start tracing lines and find faces
Then those faces become more detailed
Takes on the shapes of males and females
You see hands, fingertips, lines and moustaches
Little thoughts, dreams and bus passes
These little shapes and lines take their own
They start to have lives, kids, wives and homes
And you look close you see little details
The little sins, the little female
Thoughts, traits, whispers and dreams
And all of a sudden it starts to tear at the seams
Because at first when you look into the suburbs
You see beautiful faces then get to the curb
You see bits of trash and cigarette butts
That a mother threw out before her kids got touched
By the fact the their mom really smoked
For the last thirty years but hid it in the closet, yo
Behind the socks, behind the sweaters
That's where we hid all our secrets so no one knows better

And as I look into the size of the walls
And look into the ceiling, there's eyes on the floors
I see everything, I see everyone
I see the wedding rings, I see the stupid sons
I see the little jokes, I see the happy smiles
I see the fourth of Julys - the drunk kids and child

Heh - I probably shouldn't look this close.

The sun, it's behind her face
You see the little pink hairs on the side of her cheek there
And at first it's romantic and attractive
But once you see closer it becomes unattractive
I know it's how I think, I know it's how it falls apart
But everyone has a place to start
A little puzzle piece adds up, get close now
I'm laying in the middle of a floor of the warehouse, child
I press my floor to the face or I guess it's the other way
It doesn't matter why, I can't escape
Inside this place, inside this little town
I see the arms, the fingers - they start to move around
No more Norman Rockwell picturesque
It's a whole family, whole frame whole piece of shit
Whole little cities start to rip apart to bits
And I see it get closer and I'm falling into this
I feel my fingers drip as I drag on the surface
As I move to the ocean water and trys to make perfect
Sense of everything that I know right now
I try to pull out, withdraw, get back on track, child
I gotta job to do - crates to lift
And none of this is seemin' to start to make sense
All the little faces and families that I see
Must be imagination, I'm tearing at the seams
But I stand here on my hands and my knees
Lookin' at this whole little civilization I see
Buried there inside of the cement
As I get closer it starts to rip

The families that were once full of cheers are now
Full of sad times, alcohol and beer
And everyone's got a problem
A dirty chair, a bad little secret, a car that won't start, dear
The windows are cracked and smudged - it's looking ugly
Someone in the neighbourhood let their lawn grow, buddy
And they need to trim all the hedges on back
To let some sunlight in to expose the facts
The truth that we hide behind the doors right
Painted bright red with the gold trim tonight
It's hidden there inside wrapped presents
And I realise there's no escaping and I get in
Reach my fingertips into the cement
And I bury myself six feet under it
The closer that I get, the more that I know
The more of the truth and the secrets are shown
And every time I get my fingers inside this
I get a little far away from what I knew
This job, this life, this choice
Until one day I've fallen entirely
Without a two weeks notice

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