Sun Kil Moon - Not Much Rhymes With Everything's Awesome at All Times lyrics

Things were amazing when you lived in LA Things were sublime up in the East Bay Then you landed in England's grey London town Again things were great You say you're a writer but what can you say When each night ends another perfect day? When a week in a hostel was a fabulous stay You're just too high to reach It's hard to swallow your big bright pills The one I want to ask, how do you really feel? Can you dim the lights for just a few minutes? Lose the phrases, the overused snippets? You're living among the grime and the soot A scene straight out of a Charles Dickens book Ain't got no man to give you no love A kiss on the cheek, a welcome home hug You say you're a poet but I've not read a line Just seen the notebook, the cover and spine You say you're a poet but how much rhymes With everything's perfect at all times? You left for Rome and Paris, France Came back home in a born again trance You met me for lunch, so late one day Out of breath with so much to say We sat down together and I stared at your phone I squinted hard but could not feel your tone I looked on at endless two-inch frames Thinking "Christ, they're all the f**ing same" What's beneath your glow and your gleam? What's not in the picture baby? Are there scars somewhere on your skin And are there more deeper you're hiding? Tell me about when you were a kid Did someone you know drive off of a cliff? Did you get picked on by your big brother? What are you carrying? What are you smothering? Is something crawling on you like bugs? Is something eating away at your guts? Is something slithering down in the drain? Is something swimming around in your veins? You say that you're happy here in this place Staring off into internet space Trying to hit a magic bu*ton Wake up only next to no one Next to your laptop and your slick phone And your book of illogic poems You're my friend and you know I love you Open up, babe, no I won't judge you I'm an artist, it's all that I've got I know when I see one and baby, you're not A poet knows that not much rhymes With everything's perfect at all times Say you're a poet but I've not read a line Just seeing the notebook, the cover and spine You say you're a poet but not much rhymes With everything's perfect at all times