The Worried Well

by Linebacker Dirge

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03:47
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03:40
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credits

released August 19, 2015

Words and Music by Jason Gibson and Ian McHugh
Recorded by Jason Gibson and Ian McHugh at JT Soar, Nottingham, Engomi, Cyprus and Castle Espie, Northern Ireland
Mixed and Mastered by Jason Gibson
Artwork by John Quinn.

Thanks to Phil Booth, Colm Laverty, James Bruce, Brittany Breslin and Clark Phillips.

*Track 5 - Additional Vocals by Rory James Gibson

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Track Name: Analgaesia
Happy birthday Human;
I hope you didn't get your hopes up too high,
For time is a descent.
Where each New Year gives rise to,
Progressive subjugation of the ego,
And this surge of analgaesia,
Because we fall to this delusion,
That feeling through the sorrow makes you stronger,
Than others who don’t,
But really it’s like violence;
The more you see the less you feel,
And someday we won’t feel a thing.

And the romantic in me knows that’s the objective;
That we belong.
But the reality scares the living shit out of me,
Tell me I’m wrong.

And You won't feel,
Half as much ,
As You did last year
No, You won't feel,
Half as much,
As You did last year

And it is all your fault
It is all your fault
It is all your fault
It is…

The way that you lie to yourself in the mirror,
The way that you dull it with bottom-shelf liquor,
The way that you wear it; some limp standard-bearer,
The way that you kill yourself daily inside to live,
That’s the way that we kill ourselves daily inside to live
That’s the way that we kill ourselves daily inside to live

So celebrate your old friends,
For every day they remain,
And celebrate your weak love,
For every day it remains,
And celebrate your short life,
For every day it remains,
And rejuvenate your dust heart,
At all costs, its function is everything.
Track Name: Life By Proxy
Everyone I know has been reduced,
To one's and zero's.
And though the Internet did save our lives,
It too has taken,
Something I can't quite put my finger,
On, bar its absence.

Well it's like we're still,
Friends even though I'm here,
But we are not.
Here nor there,
We are but code and musty air,
In technophile tombs;
But vassals for,
The end user agreements,
Laid out by better men.
But the sun will rise.
And the clouds will part in surprise,
As you emerge your den.
Track Name: Livia
Resignation,
Has its freedoms,
When wielded wisely;

Loosing pistols,
Vaguely airwards,
In celebration,
And commemoration,

Of what Livia said;

It’s all a big nothing.
It’s all a big nothing.
It’s all a big nothing,
And you’ll die in your own arms.

It’s all a big nothing.
It’s all a big nothing.
It’s all a big nothing,
And you’ll die in your own arms.

It’s all a big nothing.
It’s all a big nothing.
It’s all a big nothing,
What do you think you’re special?!
Or something?
Well which is it?
Because I’m not seeing either.
Track Name: Tending To 0
I am aghast,
At what I can see,
Before me;
Some hopeful young man,
Living in denial,
Despite all,
The arguments contrary,
To misinformation,
And the indoctrination,
Of four year olds.

And I trust by now you know there’s nothing after,
And I trust you see that this is our one chance,
And I know you know there’s no one waiting for you,
So give everything.

‘Cause no one leaves here,
They just lie.
(Underground)
Yeah, no one can leave here,
They just sleep,
(Underground)

And some day,
You’ll end,
And the probability,
Of there being,
Anything after,
Is tending to naught,
Let alone,
For your specific Jesus,
Or what He’d think about you.

And I trust by now you know there’s nothing after.
And I trust you see that this is our one chance,
And I know you know there’s nothing waiting for you,
So give everything.
Track Name: Motion Parallax
I remember when it felt,
Overwhelming;
As the foreground passed by faster.
Than I could frame it in the window.

Where present tense,
Bombards the short term memory,
And past defeats,
Can claim dominion,
On your senses and your crippled sense of self,
But these beaten tracks are lending to a point;

That it may never be over,
But it dulls.
No, it may never be over;
But it dulls,
As,

Things slow down,
Assuming softer focus,
On distal planes.
And this may grant,
Perspective panorama,
On events that at first,
Were just a blur.

Yes, things slow down,
And seen in softer focus,
You might concede,
That you're worth a fucking million,
Of those other fucking people who just,
Split the difference.