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Homewreckers: Sweet Apathy

by A Crash Republic

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1.
Lets write song about love Lets pretend like we’re dreaming when we’ve just woken up We can’t quite fake a smile cuz it might take a while and being happy’s contingent on luck Lets set something on fire Lets commit to ideas based on shallow desire We’re awkward and bored as the doctors ensured we chase chaos and never get tired Let’s abandon our homes Lets all move to New York so we’re never alone Lets follow our dreams like ambitious machines til we burn out or turn into stone Well we’re here and we’re honest sometimes pessimist at heart born again from second chances and a world that fell apart while we’re here we’ll be honest we’ve been better off before But our ghosts from last September just keep knocking on our door Let’s drink poison and cry Scrape the bags dressed in rags half-asleep dead inside live punk-rock right until the fun stops and it will and we fade out still wondering why Let’s embody the worst Make an album about them strictly off power chords Let’s conquer the world off of songs about girls and intentions immune to remorse Well we’re here and we’re honest sometimes pessimist at heart born again from second chances and a world that fell apart while we’re here we’ll be honest we’ve been better off before But our ghosts from last September just keep knocking on our door Let’s write songs about love Let’s pretend like we’re fine when we’ve just given up The stories we tell transcend glory and hell through perspectives explicitly just
2.
Overture 04:22
I am a vigil of the evening skies, watching over your thoughts, until the metaphor dies Counting Down From Three before you disgust me, tracing out the mind of the enemy. Through Thoughts unspoken, dead and broken, give me a reason to believe That you’ll come around, before we’re all bound, to go down, down, down, you see. And as I sit at home and write the generic thoughts to a pathetic life, My mind drags me up and down the lines, without a single hint or sign Of being better than this, or being able to move past the ignorance that makes up this bitter town here, and most of the fucks I end up near. Without a Sound, I’ll spew an overture that breaks the ground, for the immature And it gets me so down, that this will never cease, and I’m outnumbered to say the least I’ll lay six words on the table, what are you trying to do you’re unstable, and so far from the truth Just a few more words, and a breath and a half to say you’re the worst scum this world has had And I watch it through bloodshot eyes, hating this world, and waiting for its demise but if it’s criticism that you fear, I’ll shout again so you can hear Without a Sound, I’ll spew an overture that breaks the ground, for the immature And it gets me so down, that this will never cease, and I’m outnumbered to say the least, to say the least
3.
Misanthrope 03:08
Make a sign, be sure to build it to last Here we find the finest genre of trash Covered in a layer of pretentious disguise I’m smart enough to know their filth will be their demise Less like a human from the size of his head More like a maggot the way she feeds on the dead I keep seeing traces of ignorance and stupidity And I’ll try my hardest not to let it get to me But these kids, from caves they crawl And the truth is I hate them all So I’ll hold my breath ‘til death or July, but I’ll still die a misanthrope So I’ll stay away from you for as long as I can Avoiding eye contact and conversation ‘cuz to be honest I don’t feel like getting mad and the anxiety you all give me is bad Cuz these kids, from caves they crawl And the truth is I hate them all So I’ll hold my breath ‘til death or July, but I’ll still die a misanthrope So I’ll fade into the night where they can’t find me But every day that passes by, they’re still there to remind me Cuz these kids, from caves they crawl And the truth is I hate them all So I’ll hold my breath ‘til death or July, but I’ll still die a misanthrope
4.
Sweet Apathy 04:33
I spent the night in a state of fright, burning out through doubt, suppressing appetite Such a climactic chase leaves me a basket case convulsing to the beat of disgrace I paint these hallways with the broken swears from the complaints I always cut from my affairs and when I sit back down, my pupils hit the ground grasping for answers that I haven’t found When you have fun, you’re a social strum while my face and fingertips burn red and numb Upon this angst I sit, one more climactic hit, abhor the tragic case called getting over it Apathy, sweet apathy, my futile lash at thee This conquered gaze I flaunt for days will make you pity me Bore slightly and persist for quite the anarchist I should have knocked on wood I’m shocked I stood so close to this I hope you know, you’re an idiot Your aesthetic goes to fully contradict your range of common sense, that claims its innocence, and turned me out to pout and repent But nonetheless, I’ll make it on your list, as the undone, obsessed compulsive masochist Unhatched its who I am, but scratched into my plan, I fit the frame of a saner man I played your game, through all the rage and shame I learned to take it easy or end up insane I feel the lust and hurt, from my meal of dust and dirt, concealed in trust I thus portray the introvert Apathy, sweet apathy, my futile lash at thee This conquered gaze I flaunt for days will make you pity me Bore slightly and persist for quite the anarchist I should have knocked on wood I’m shocked I stood so close to this And when you talk to them, I unblock my phlegm, one more jealous twitch upon which I’m condemned With thirst you’ll move along, in search of smooth and strong, Leave me to rot in thought of what on earth went wrong I hope you know you’re an idiot, your aesthetic glows and yet you lack the wit to realize what was meant, despite those cursed events that brought our tainted run to its end I hope you know I don't give a shit, your aesthetic bodes a grace that doesn’t depict your inner disconnect this is my void attempt to counteract all the compliments
5.
Bring back the sound, dig up the crown Places, he raises the flag Stone cold denial, he'll hold his broken smile, chasing a daydream that passed Trace autumn through the flashbacks and stories Safe songs reduced to soundtrack memories I'm not prepared to face the sands of fate who's hands erase our names Like footprints in the rain I had it for a minute, starry-eyed My passage to a cynic robbed me blind I should have known I stood alone, no wooden home is built to last It crumbles and cracks Summer was spent under cement, basements train stations galore Christmas was cheap, vicious and bleak, weaving the meaning of bored What happened to the vision and the dreams, I have been on a mission to relieve The stress, the rain, the mess, sustained at best by aimless ends that speak to all my disbelief How nostalgic for a tragic quest for havoc can I be? Some things are best set free Carry the sound but bury the crown, repurpose the worthless flag Today will be tomorrow's memory of grieving this meaningless past No time to waste displaced, enslaved to a fate whose waves erase our names, like rain
6.
Deem it tasteful when it’s vulgar, sad, and sour Self-labeled culture mad with power Represent the apathetic cries for hope, and grab aesthetics by the throat Adolescence, countless lessons You like to think it has a message It’s not obscene, it’s art in the name of love written neatly and in blood He tells his friends that he sees through a nihilistic lens and he thinks that they care It’s the establishments fault, he screams with vengeance at the wall, the point was lost in alcohol Melodramatic and vain, he treats them all like they’re insane without a single trace of shame It’s a long way from the top Watch your luck Try your best to hold them off Pinky up We slow our hearts and then we snap them dead awake We start to crack but never break We’ll burn the bridge and we’ll destroy the polished paths to get our point across intact We’re not heroes nor endeared prose Is it a way of life that fear chose? Its not a cry, its a cringe inducing yell for anything but help We comprehend that they pain of awareness never ends, what a curse, woe is me We’re losing everything, our aspirations and our dreams to blind subversive ecstasy Its our poetic disguise, the tortured artist whose demise is dealt by self-fulfilling lies Its a long way from the top We overshot, who’d of thought we were human all along What a cruel twist of fate To fall apart and obey, or chase an overplayed cliche, its not as simple as they say. I’ll throw my arms to the sky, like those before me left to die from these abusive terms in time It’s a long way from the top Watch Your Luck Try your best to hold them off Watch Your Luck Take to the skies, I advise that you watch your luck, you make a point of letting go No sympathy Kill, make 'em bleed singin' No sympathy Rush guaranteed, singin'

about

Homewreckers: Sweet Apathy is our debut EP although we have technically been a "band" since 2008. All of these songs were written between 2010-2012 but due to unforseen circustances we were unable to properly create this EP until 2017-2019. There is currently a backlog of material for the "Homewreckers" trilogy that we have to get through but this is the first part of three EP releases. Demos for parts II & III are already underway!

credits

released February 1, 2019

Music by A Crash Republic
Lyrics by Nick Tello

Nick Tello - Vocals
Andrew Sullivan - Vocals, Guitar, Bass, Piano, Drums on "Overture" & "Post Summer Rain"
Steve Rehm - Drums

Engineered, Mixed, & Produced by A Crash Republic
Mastered by Andrew Wade

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A Crash Republic Boston, Massachusetts

A Crash Republic is a Boston based pop punk band aimed at telling stories that transcend glory and hell through perspectives explicitly just.

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