No one loves me/No one wants to talk to me/No one invites me to their parties/No one rings me up/No one writes to me/No one cares about me/No one wants to know me/Oh god I'm feeling sorry for myself!/I've started writing poetry/I've started to con myself/Like "I don’t need them anyway" and "All I need is me"/I’ve started feeling superior to compensate my misery/I’ve started thinking I'm the only person in the world with problems/When will it all go right for me? When will I win millions of dollars? When will beautiful women bash down my door? When will the world recognize what an artistic genius I am? When they discover my dead body and realize what a wonderful person they've missed and curse themselves for not being my friend and be forced to say nice things at my funeral (you pretty much know the rest, I'm sure)
supported by 7 fans who also own “Descent Into Patheticism”
I cannot praise this album enough. This album is absolutely terrifying! The many starts and stops creates this very h settling tension. Each start expands on the stopper idea previously. It’s like the music equivalent of walking through thick fog while passing out multiple times throughout trying to find a place to orientate yourself. There may or may not be something sinister in that fog, but you don’t want to stick around to find out. Bought the vinyl so I summon the fog demons through spe showhornwithteeth