The most relaxed torture victim you’ll ever see. He’s obviously working his ass off to maximize the pain, while she looks like she’s getting a foot massage.
Are You Talkin’ To Me?
No Children
Holy cow, this is dark. And funny.
I met John Darnielle in the Atlanta airport this past summer and told him I was big fan. He seemed to enjoy being recognized and told me I’d made his day. I think he assumed I meant I was a fan of his music, and I completely forgot to tell him I love his books too. D’oh!
I hope that our few remaining friends
Give up on trying to save us
I hope we come up with a fail-safe plot
To piss off the dumb few that forgave us
I hope the fences we mended
Fall down beneath their own weight
And I hope we hang on past the last exit
I hope it’s already too late
And I hope the junkyard a few blocks from here
Someday burns down
And I hope the rising black smoke carries me far away
And I never come back to this town again in my life
I hope I lie, and tell everyone you were a good wife
And I hope you die
I hope we both die
I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow
I hope it bleeds all day long
Our friends say it’s darkest before the sun rises
We’re pretty sure they’re all wrong
I hope it stays dark forever
I hope the worst isn’t over
And I hope you blink before I do
And I hope I never get sober
And I hope when you think of me years down the line
You can’t find one good thing to say
And I’d hope that if I found the strength to walk out
You’d stay the hell out of my way
I am drowning
There is no sign of land
You are coming down with me
Hand in unlovable hand
And I hope you die
I hope we both die
Another Song I Wish I’d Written
Killer chorus, and that bridge is fucking sublime.