Nervous Ghost

by Ghost Guest and Very Nervous

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1.
03:13
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5.
02:11

about

This is a split that Ghost Guest and their pal, Very Nervous recorded live in good ol' Worcester.

credits

released January 11, 2016

Ghost Guest:
Caitlin
Scott
Heru
Alex
Scotty

www.facebook.com/ghostguestma/?fref=ts
ghostguest.bandcamp.com


Very Nervous:
Jake
www.facebook.com/Very-nervous-446550005422781/?fref=ts
thatkid1.bandcamp.com

Recorded live
Recorded by Jon Elfers
Cover Art by Heru
Cover Art Arranged by Momo

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Ghost Guest Worcester, Massachusetts

we like music and psychological development

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Track Name: Lockjaw
I've got a scar across my cheek
dividing lockjaw and lack of sleep
I'm spitting blood between my teeth with all this fire I will speak

I've been on the road so damn long
that home has become where my feet are
dontcha know that's how it's always been
home is where the heart is
not in a house but between my ribs
caught on all of the spaces kept from your hands

My god the air is getting bitter
something I could never sustain
if with the way your voice echoed
with my cries reflecting off the bathroom sink

My god the air is getting bitter
my god the air is getting bitter
my god the air is getting bitter
Track Name: Hardwood Floors
I'm still wiping the grit from my eyes from the night I came over to say goodbye again, to say goodbye again
I'm still wiping the grit from my eyes from the room full of smoke you left me in that night, you left me in that night

I can hear it now, I can hear you beat, beat down the door
I found rhythm in the footsteps on the hardwood floors
on the hardwood floors upstairs

I haven't been blind for a while now
the static faded black for such a long time now
but it came back
somewhere around the time you left
and I woke up and it was cold outside

I saw everything-
mid January ice and I walked out onto the lake for the very first time
walked out onto the lake for the first time...
I walked out onto the lake for the first time...

I can hear it now I can hear you beat, beat down the door
I found rhythm on the hardwood floors upstairs
I woke up today, I woke up to the cold cold weather outside
I walked over the lake for the very first time

I'm still wiping the grit from my eyes from the night I came over to say goodbye again...
to say goodbye again
Track Name: Invalids Walking on the Trail of Broken Glass
I've got my great grandmother's frail shakey arms. A cigarette at my fingertips and vacuum cleaner lungs. Dark circles surround my eyes and make spots of pink and blue sunlight as I walk through piles of dust. I am the ghost of a soldier killed at war. I am the sound of the creaks in your floor boards. I am the call of the trumpets in the clouds. I am the invalid that just keeps walking for miles and miles. Out of mind, out of sight, out of love, out of fright find a way to fight. I've got my great grandmother's frail shakey arms, a cigarette at my fingertips and vacuum cleaner lungs but I followed the sun behind the horizon and met up with the moon on the other side of town. Look at all we've found.
Track Name: Debbie Downer
If I break would you forgive me or would you toss me out like the drunk at the school play? My eyes widen up, pupils open in search of light or just a place that I might want to stay. I'm sick of being shy, I'm sick of biting my tounge, I'm sick of nauseausness, I've swallowed too much blood, I'm sick of bleeding ink into a tired page, I'm sick of searching for my next escape. So next time I have something to tell you, you better listen good, and next time I have something to tell you I'll make sure its understood. And Debbie Downer's sniffing downers off the counter, the only way she can relate to those around her, otherwise her tounge is tied into a figure 8. And sometimes you want to stop the world and get off but you're staring at a certified astronaut. NASA stopped my funding but couldn't stop my brain because I am going into space tonight. Start the count down from 5. 5 4 3 2 1... (Chorus repeated)... I'm sick of being shy. I'm sick of biting my tounge. I'm sick of nauseausness. I've swallowed too much blood. I'm sick of holding it in. I'm sick of falling apart. I'm sick of trying to change. It always ends at the start. And what if I break?
Track Name: Quarter-Roy
I'm falling head over heels. Not in love, just bi-pedal. My train of thought just left but I forgot my boarding pass. My glass is empty because I forgot to pour it. Guess I was too busy trying to think of a metaphor for it. Cat got my tounge, don't know where it is but I can feel a phantom throbbing. Talk is cheap but I still can't afford a word. A penny for your thoughts and I can't afford a word. Say what you mean not just what you heard.