when noah kahan said “if the sun don’t rise till the summertime, forgive my northern attitude. oh, i was raised on little light” and when he said “i thought that if i piled something good on all my bad that i could cancel out the darkness i inherited from dad” and when he said “my house was designed to kinda look like it’s crying. the eyes are the windows, the garage is the mouth. so when they mention the sad kid in the sad house on balch street, you won’t have to guess who they’re speaking about” and when he said “i was taking the wrong meds, feels good to be sad” and when he said “my mouth was designed for my foot to fit in it” and when he said “someday i’m gonna be somebody people want” and when he said “no thing so sure that i can’t learn to doubt it” and when he said “i divvied up my anger into thirty separate parts, keep the bad shit in my liver and the rest around my heart. i’m still angry at my parents for what their parents did to them, but it’s a start” and when he said “at the end of the day, i know there are worse ways to stay alive” and when he said “i’m terrified that i might never have met me” and when he said “i forgot my medication, fell into a manic high. spent my savings at a lulu, now i’m suffering in style. why is pain so damn impatient? ain’t like it’s got a place to be. keeps rushing me” and when he said “if all my life was wasted, i don’t mind, i’ll watch it go. yeah, it’s better to die numb than feel it all” and when he said “i drink till i drown and i smoke till i’m burning” and when he said “collect every dream in these old empty pockets, in hope that i’ll need them someday”
and when he said “it’s an ode to the hole that i found myself stuck in, a song for the grave that i dug” and when he said “i only tell the truth when i’m sure that i’m lying” and when he said “i would leave if only i could find a reason. i’m mean because i grew up in new england. i got dreams but i can’t make myself believe them. spend the rest of my life with what could have been, and i will die in the house that i grew up in. i’m homesick” and when he said “it only falls into place when you’re falling to pieces” and when he said “the whole place is quiet. you miss something that you can’t place but you can’t deny it. don’t know whether you want a place in the coast or the country. you can’t stay here, it’s hard to face and it feels too ugly. you light a fire inside, let it burn” and when he said “with a past box of photos i rip myself open” and when he said “feel the rush of my blood, i’m seventeen again. i am not scared of death, i’ve got dreams again” and when he said “a minute from home, but i feel so far from it. the death of my dog, the stretch of my skin. it’s all washing over me, i’m angry again. the things that i lost here, the people i knew, they got me surrounded for a mile or two” and when he said “my medicine is drowning your perspective out, so i ain’t taking any fault” and when he said “i ain’t proud of all the punches that i’ve thrown in the name of someone i no longer know. for the shame of being young, drunk and alone”
and when he said “‘son, are you a danger to yourself?’ well, fuck that, sir, just let me call. i’ll give you my blood alcohol, i’ll rot with all the burnouts in the cell. i’ll change my faith, i’ll kiss the badge. just wait, i swear she’ll call me back. 'son, why do you do this to yourself?’” and when he said “i’ll turn up the music and i’ll forget until it ends that i’m not ready to let go yet” and when he said “i’m in my car and i see the yard, the patch of grass where we buried the dog. and the world makes sense behind a chain-link fence. if i could leave, i would’ve already left” and when he said “i thought i had something, and that’s the same as having something. i get mad at nothing, blame my dad for something. i pull no punches, then feel bad for months. thought i was raised better. tried to fake better, tried to blame weather and escape better. hope the skin heals where the pain enters” and when he said “i saw the end, it looks just like the middle. got a paper and pen and a page with no space. i filled the hole in my head with prescription medication, then forgot how to cry. who am i to complain? and now the pain’s different. it still exists, it just escapes different and evades vision. makes the rain different, makes the news boring and my rage distant. yes, i’m young and living dreams, in love with being noticed and afraid of being seen. but i can finally eat and i can fall asleep. it’s fine, fine, fine” and when he said “medicate, meditate, swear your soul to jesus. throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason” and when he said “we spent so long just getting by. that’s the thing about survival. who the hell, who the hell likes living just to die?”
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