[hello, we're Mumbles. I'm very stressed lol]

Good luck have fun do yr best I might not stick around long enough to say goodbye But I still care so much about you I really hope yr doing ok, if not you know where to find me [At work, presumably? Or big Asda, I don't have much on]

I wanna kill the fascist that lives inside of you The one that thinks it's still ok to listen to The Libertines I want you to kill the fash that lives inside of me The one that makes me wanna call the neoliberal state "daddy" And whatever we do I just embarrass myself Totally demeaning but at least it's thoroughly on-brand And aren't you exhausted by this pathetic aesthetic? But it doesn't even matter cos everything's brilliant Healing implies a healthy state that we can return to But all it seems to do is make us less repressed and better dressed And I don't know exactly what it is I'm even supposed to be Nothing but an anxious actor briefly embraced in an age of insecurity And whatever we do I just embarrass myself Totally demeaning but at least it's thoroughly on-brand And aren't you exhausted by this pathetic aesthetic? But it doesn't even matter cos everything's brilliant I'm so sleepy I'm so sleepy At another low, in another fucking Greene King I was inspired by a friend's tattoo Purely grammatical, and totally obsolete All it said was: "&?!" Cos everything's brilliant

Am I an alien abducted? Walking in circles through every field Am I a ghost that haunts you? Appearing once a month to keep you up all night And whatever you want me to be I don't know if I can, but for you I'd try It's a well-intentioned lie and it goes: [sick riff] Am I texting from the afterlife? 3 knives in the fire, and fire on yr tongue And do you still think of me as a man? I wanna be an amorphous blob, in a dream I was pretty And whatever you want me to be I don't know if I can, but for you I'd try It's a well-intentioned lie and it goes: [sick riff] An abstract body An imperial pathology A malleable entity Embracing change, embracing change And whatever you want me to be I don't know if I can, but for you I'd try Four paper cups, downed at the bottom of the garden Flipped but acceptable, we'll be alright It's a well-intentioned lie and it goes: [sick riff]

All the strange trees that rot in her mind She's throwing up all the time Is she gonna be ok? I hate strangers looking at me Sometimes I wanna be a she Would that be ok? You kept tearing out my hair I don't know how much was planned Crying at work Holding my boss' hand I know that I was complicit I don't know how much I wanted You said you hoped I'd die I still think about it some of the time Is she gonna be ok? You know she's been so ill

In the heights of privilege, I was disgusted But I was grateful, that you were disgusted with me And I thought communal struggle Could be romantic And I guess it was in a way It felt good to be human again For a while But I can't love you how you want to be loved No I can't love you how you want to be loved [oh no!] Letting the days go by, because I am too sad to get up This is not my beautiful house, this is my mum's one-bed flat And I know the water holds you down But baby I could have been, your beautiful wife And "I'm alive but a different kind of alive to the way I used to be" and I guess like Will Sheff said "if you don't love me [then] I'm sorry"* but uhh excuse me what the fuck are we supposed to do when no part of either of us ever fucking works and I don't want to be the kind of people who have to spend the rest of their lives on pills that make the boys see things and the girls' hair fall out not that it makes a difference to me not that I'm either of those things not boy or girl I hate my body I hate my body I hate my body I have no desire to be a man and I found God in a mug of instant noodles behind a bar full of 1am bastards a warmth a healing ritual a way to make it through the shift and I could've loved you and I love my friends and one day I will love myself and I could've loved you and I love my friends and one day I will love myself but not yet And so with grim and tedious inevitability I made the kind of mistakes you can't come back from And I know self pity Never solves anything But it just feels good Just let me wallow For a while Sad and sick being screamed at by men in the street But I guess we'll always be paying for the privilege Your dog's got my name, fuck I wish I was him But I've been on a vision quest, and I've got some things to show you baby 1 2 3 4 [So when you see me next bring two razors] [And we'll put them both to our unkempt temples] [Those hidden altars to lost youth and old gods' visitations] [We'll walk out that creaking door marked for death] [Overcaffeinated and underappreciated] [This halcyon era offers us no redemption] [The sun is always yelling its petty epithets] [But I see something else through the smoke and the flames] [And whatever happens the world keeps turning] [That insensitive jerk has it no sense of occasion?] [And I am consistently disappointed when I wake up and I realise] [That all of this is real and by extension so am I] But it's not enough to just hate this world anymore I know we can find a way to learn to accept ourselves You said you just wanted me to feel safe around other people I laughed with a mouth full of Pepsi Max™ And threw up on myself oh Sad and sick, a tedious neurodiverse dick But I guess we'll always, always be paying For the privilege Sometimes I feel all alone in the world Totally convinced that no one can love me As the person, as the thing, that I have become A pelican, a lighthouse A changeling, a fool But in a room like this, with people like you With total commitment and total honesty Comes maybe acceptance, and maybe understanding And maybe that's enough And so if all things collapsed And this moment became the only moment All it would be is endless fucking bliss Looped and spiralling into the infinite Actually, that's probably a bit much But this has been really nice, and I hope we can do it again Merry Christmas everyone, I love you, thank you lol *Taken from Okkervil River's 'Starry Stairs', from the album 'The Stand Ins', which is better than 'The Stage Names' actually don't @ me