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The Luxury of Fighting Each Other

by Hissy Fits

supported by
Kurt Hartless
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Kurt Hartless A great combination of 80's punk combined with 90's grunge. A unique sound which inspires greatness in rebellion. Favorite track: Youth Culture Forever.
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1.
We're holding onto the rails and I think something's gonna give, How serendipitous, a new day might just dawn from this, We've cast our anchors into the sea, spotted land in common sense, No rising tide nor stellar wind could ever bring this to an end! We've got to see this through, don't end this resolve/connections evolve. You told me with a weary smile "Well, at least we've got our past." footprints we've left behind could influence our future (former) path. I hope we realize one day that we're the only ones we have, and the chance to affect our future's slowly slipping though our hands. If there's a light at the end of the tunnel, why would you turn it off?
2.
(Hay) Bail 04:36
Is this too common, is this expected of me, to pour out into open fills? But I'm already open, and pray my sincerity isn't lost on you. Here I'll take a shot: I'm still confused when the transcript's right in front of me playing out like a thousand broken records. An off thought, is this where I feel safe, do I like being sad cuz it's easy? I'll remind myself it's getting better *forming atlas.* a cliche, walking around pretending there's nobility in this. Stuck up and ungrateful, narcissistic to say the least, but my eyes are still in the right place. I'm taking steps towards asserting myself. "You're still trying to make sense of it all again?" I'm a mortal, I'm an animal, I've known this for months now and I have grown. Wearing costumes, we're all meaning less....well aware of the finish line at the end, (observing from the outside) I've resolved not to get caught up in dead end paths paved by vacant minds, I'll write my own slow death.
3.
Strife can wither walls of strength, hearts wide open, pouring the light from the praise, I will conquer the distance, I will conjure resistance. Waiting, weeding out the strays, souls exploited, marching a path lined with graves. Great waves, waters of conscience, moon's rays holding them back from high tide. This blinding light in our heads/hands could shine through the back drop. Thoughts are hope. You've been treading water in their wake, unaware that there's much calmer waters on the other side of this misleading image, disguises repress and diminish catalysts for better days, rouge synapses exposing deceit in the way that they've cast their shadows upon us, a vast darkness thwarting the efforts of true free minds. You found the reddest lines, bounty before something right again. There's bound to be a gap in this fence somewhere so I'll drag this fallen branch across the ever rusting rails. I will persist or break my way through.
4.
Buoyancy 02:56
I felt the rearing back of arms I'd had, was flung into the air, aloft curve. I floated comfortably for what seemed like this week, but the creases in the page still linger, skipped a line, stray pencil marks mark the margins. And when I fall, I'll fall asleep and I'll stop dreaming, I drowned, you could see me suffocating on my own words. I know I never will but now I'm weary of how very often these "excursions" need to be. I really hope that this road evens out, I pray the gravel sinks into the dirt below, but I'll carry on with arms at both sides, fingertips on alert for any sign of common ground. Ventured out, crossed a lake in my head, steady rowing...looked around, found your body. Buoyancy, floating softly. I hear it now, subtle heart beats, but they're drowning out in our party.
5.
Hold on, I'm still running on empty and I'm failing to see a reason not to, I'm counting sheep but there's just so fucking many, following so blindly. At this rate I'll never fall asleep, another victim of the knowledge that we're where we are, and I'm standing my ground but I can feel a fucking earthquake coming, my legs start shaking. I can feel my knees give out, are we all results of our choices? Perpetually indifferent. I can see this even out, and I know I'll make my own choices. Stranded, seems that I'm the only one who can see the green light, stationary in my reluctance to believe a lie, but the cars keep driving by and they're moving faster, the headlights flicker. Cuz in the end it's no one knows or "Yeah, good luck," or no one cares. We smother sparks with "I'd rather not think about that," or "That's just the way things are."
6.
Hi-Tide 05:20
We were talking about how things were going cuz they were going so well, I never knew you'd be so indifferent but I knew you could tell. Reaching out across the shallow voices, collecting remnants of hope, I tremble not at the thought of failure but that of confusion drawn slow. As you relay that your wall's been breached, crumbled under the weight of indecision, these phone calls and car rides all gradually led to this fate. Am I the ghost of you? Merely a polar reflection, light refracting...cuz lately I'm torn between all these cliches and descriptions that we're still learning. We're hollow, we follow roads so shallow, we swallow notes as pills, lets let our words tie us up in "nots." We're hollow, these hollow woes. Shrugging off the ever present danger I slowly trudge through this sleep, these arguments that I lose to myself but I'm finding solace in defeat. Try to identify a single splinter, a red dot target mark...but it's everything, it's just fucking everything, it's me in my head vs. me in my head. I'm drawing a line in the sand, a bit unnecessary considering it's after the fact. Can I still learn from mistakes if I haven't lost yet? Or are we still playing? We're hollow, we follow roads, it's all so subtle, this is my refusal to be squeezed into your molds, we're hollow, these hollow woes. I'm high tide and you're the beach, cuz I'll move on while you fade away into me.

credits

released July 25, 2014

All songs written by Hissy Fits

Produced by Brett Scott and Hissy Fits
Engineered, Mixed, and Mastered by Brett Scott at BNB Audio Production

www.BNBaudio.com

Special thanks to Max Huffman for all of the album art and to Andrew Scott for helping with some of the original recordings that became TLOFE.

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Hissy Fits Chapel Hill, North Carolina

Hissy Fits are a guitar-rock band from Chapel Hill, NC.

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