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Dead Words

from Demos by The Smiling Eyes

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lyrics

I'm getting sick of the words that I strain to write, I force them out through the chords in my throat. They seem contrived, not at all what I meant to write, I crumple up the page.

They say that art is no more than labour of love, If that's the case then what's the source of this contempt? I tear my hair and despair in mediocrity, and crumple up the page.

One more day, one more line that I don't want to say. One more song, one more verse for you to sing along. Dead already.

I'm getting tired of cliche and redundancies that find their way into most of my work, I start to doubt my ideals and my philosophies, and I tear up the page.

I'm dying to be honest in my craft, it seems I'm helpless. At the whim of passing inspiration, I am helpless. Wish I still could be content in writing loveless love songs, for a girl who's now a ghost who will not ever hear them.

These words are dead, and they don't mean anything.

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from Demos, track released January 4, 2011

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The Smiling Eyes St Catharines, Ontario

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