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I’ve been shooting off flares all week,

In hopes you’d find your way back to me.

Because it seems like we’re oceans apart,

Each day in exile continues to ravage my heart.

Memories of us when life felt perfect,

Haunt me like nightmares as I reflect,

On where things could have gone wrong,

When only weeks before we were humming along,

To a love song with the lights turned down low,

And your smile was the only thing making the room glow.

Now I lay restless in a pathetic drunken gloom,

Wishing I could be anywhere but alone in this room.

So here we come to the end of their first album “Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Silence”. This song is half hardcore, and if you stick around to the end, you can hear an added vocal track from Daryl on the piano.

Now, RoadRunner Records were known to add their own shit to GlassJaw’s tracks in an effort to sell more records, but the band didn’t really dig that kind of authority over their work. So that little added bit may have been the devil’s work or hopefully the band intended it to be there because I love it.

This time, Daryl does not elaborate on what the song is about, but I think it is pretty clear he had his heart broken once again by some woman with a chip on her shoulder. My favorite line of all is at the end of the first part of the track before heading into the “hidden track”: “Pack your shit and leave, and take my memories of her with you (I don’t need to know)

Hotel Of The White Locust BY: GlassJaw

Welcome to Hollywood, whore

Wake the fuck up in Hollywood, whore.

My dance has passed.

Combine the throb within the head

With the rhythm of my fucking feet

Say a novena for all those lost.

And read the bloodstains on the sheets.

I’ve whored myself for less than this

And I’ve prayed to appear to be fed.

As I knelt on my pillow God

I clench my fists and banged my head!

Who could ever take the place of me?

Now I kiss up to God, my fists

And I pray to keep my head

Though I like your pretty eyes better blackened

And my fists all fucking red!

Through sickness and health

I’ve kissed up to God, two years.

I have focused on the cameos made by the tiger

In the valley of the locust.

Wipe it off your mouth

Get up off your knees

And make me your God.

It’s sexual debauchery

You cost what you’re worth.

Followed by a boy like this.

Re-ignited by all your visits.

As long as your mouth is shut,

You’ll still be fucking beautiful

Pack your shit and leave,

(I don’t need to know)

and take my memories of her with you