The Ones That Left Town EP

by Outside Your House

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about

The Ones That Left Town is Outside Your House's second EP release (for earlier OYH songs visit outsideyourhouse.bandcamp.com)

Barely rap from Durham City.

Video for Improbable Cities here www.youtube.com/watch?v=DBCgvHlwd24 was made by Zero G Photography.

credits

released March 1, 2015

Words by Faithful Johannes
Music by Jonathan Swift

Recorded, Mixed and Mastered by Outside Your House

Thanks to Bronia McNay for putting the cover together.

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Frux Tapes Durham, UK

DIY label from Durham City UK

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Track Name: Photos Out There
I’m a vegetarian on a budget
There’s photos out there that I’d rather there wasn’t

Toothpaste all over my thin beard
After an attack from a moth, potentially a killer
Although we both have crepuscular habits
No affinity shared showed just armed and winged panic
But I’m learning more with each new belt hole
Know the wisdom of the coward, of retreat, of dry powder
In two seconds flat I’m on the floor in the hall
Left my unfazed girlfriend flossing behind the door
But I’m not taking any chances
Why would the internet lie about diseases
Lepidoperal?

I’m a vegetarian on a budget
There’s photos out there that I’d rather there wasn’t

Scowling like a child, while kicking my feet up
vowed to myself, that I’ll never brew up secrets again
So now I’m ridiculously honest
Ask what I’m thinking, then you’re going to get graphs and novice
Psychotherapy, revealing that I’m 90% TV
I ask for coffee like I’m agent Dale Cooper
In sumptuous red drapery I have visions of Jacque Costeaux and whales
Belugas, humped-backed and minke
I’ve stopped asking my friends what they truly think of me

Donning a ski-mask in town
in the summer
causes ardrenilised fear
especially in the old, and in cowards like me, it’s a statement, but I can’t hear what it’s saying.
Track Name: Fading Out (Like The Picture On My Work ID)
You’re fading out
Like the picture on my work ID
Everything you said that night
I’m over-taping, gradually
The creases in my neck betray my age
Despite this Japanese onesie
I’m wearing in the checkout queue
Holding beans and discount cheeses

People smile and tell me I’m the luck one
And we’ve just begun

The old guy behind in the line
Grabs my under-developed bicep
He only wants to tell me that
He really does love my glasses
I try to say that they’re fake just
Clear-glass, horn-rimmed, hipster-wear
But he’s jumped ahead
Pushed in to pay
For low-cost Danish lager-beers
And I want
Anonymous mourners
At my funeral

People smile and tell me I’m the luck one
And we’ve just begun

I constantly feel like I’m under assessment
Somewhere a black mark is placed next to my name
Don’t really believe we’re all duplicated elsewhere
If there were infinite worlds why would any be the same?
But I don’t understand mathematics
And I don’t understand cardiology
I don’t know how to fix the leak in the attic
I tried to be renaissance man
But I’m reborn a baby.
Track Name: Improbable Cities
I don’t have any heroes anymore
Just a list of those against
whom I bear a jealous grudge
Perhaps Synapses misfired
I’m eating cereal at midnight,
a roast dinner at dawn.
I’m a bag of nerves waiting
for my poor posture
to inevitably
trigger sciatica

Seeing the faces of primary school classmates
On the streets of improbable cities
Although they always morph into someone else
right after, I’ve touched them on the arm
Mostly it’s the ones that left town
that I’m longing to see the most
Said she’d keep in touch
Nobody keeps in touch
Said she’d keep in touch
Nobody keeps in touch

I don’t have any nemeses any more
And even if I did, I wouldn’t broadcast it
In an under-listened to song
Is it abnormal
to never want children?
Is this something
for which I could blame someone?

Seeing the faces of primary school classmates
On the streets of improbable cities
Although they always morph into someone else
right after, I’ve touched them on the arm
Mostly it’s the ones who left town
That I’m longing to see the most
Said she’d keep in touch
Nobody keeps in touch
Said you’d keep in touch
Nobody keeps in touch
Track Name: Blood In The Laundry
Sure as underpants are expensive
All of my ancestors had children
Nobody plays board games anymore
We’ve a silent understanding
I’m in an unspoken league
With my acne-scarred brothers and sisters
And if this vessel dips far beneath the waves
They know they are the ones that I would reach out and save

Did my dad hold my hand ‘round town too long?
Everyone tells me I’m a sensitive soul.
Beryl, hits me with “that’s form of egotism”
This barbs like a truth although I tell her “it isn’t”

Roacutane kids
“Why don’t you wash?”
Staining the guest sheets
With legions and puss
Side-effects fill
Three sheets of A4
Consultant’s pose photos
Compounding it all
A chemical rebalancing
Dried out like sultanas
With awkward hunches
90s centre partings
Praise dermatology
There’s blood in the laundry
“You’re frigid if your eyebrows
Are far too apart”

Did I sleep with soft toy bears for too long?
I’m sick of being told I’m a sensitive soul
Now I rarely shout, I just storm out the house
When conflict approaches I’m the reverse tortoise

You’re a sensitive soul

If Jimmy Nail can be handsome
In contraband shoes
I’m sure me and my shandals can shake off these blues
Track Name: Dennis Taylor Style
It was easier not to tell my Gran I never liked mince pies
Building a city of Tupperware from the annual re-supplies
In the office they like to snigger at the pink ones
But if my hummus salad's fresh, who gives a shit about pigments?
Don’t get me wrong, you know I’m fond of my collection
But it’s never something that I’d plan a party event ‘round

Choking on a homemade ciabatta, a pet that can’t save me
He’s freakin out, water won’t help, it’s a Wednesday
Your life doesn’t flash, more a moment of clarity, weightlessness and embarrassment
At my drool soaked fate, my dad would be devastated, dying in testate
Falling out the backdoor in the rain, in socks with my name on
Knocking neighbour’s doors in vein
Only just past my prime and never finished the decorating

At times I miss being the youngest kid in the family
Mickey mouse jumpers, someone who knits for me
Stealing all the attention at Ruby Wedding celebrations
I could blow a candle out from ten paces
Even if it wasn’t mine, I’d only bring sunshine
Or mild hilarity just by trying on your glasses
Upside down, wag my finger and smile, Dennis Taylor style
Get my hair ruffled, a slide-tackle across the carpet
Cartoon quests creep into every dream
Getting mixed up with secret anxieties
Like how I lied to my mum, she still talks of the injustice
But I wasn’t just wiping my feet I really meant to kick him
And kick him hard, though he was my best friend
Track Name: Forks
The possible forks in my road are fewer
I’d be surprised if I ever owned my own restaurant
Or published a book on habits of whale sharks

I’m just the sum of unfulfilled potentials
The unexplored shelves of muscles I left
Tucked up with a musty tome that depressed me
But also uplifted
Like "if I can feel this sad
Stick a fork in my own back
Then I must be an artist!"

I was up next at the am dram poetry slam
Silhouetted in the wings
But skipping out home
Missed my cue on stage left
Cos she cleft me open
With a tale of a lost letter
I couldn’t compete with my hokey token
Stanza of male defeat

Whatever we had going
Ain't showing anymore
Where there used to be laughter
Now there's only pain

I’ve known you for ten years Terry
I never knew you could juggle
But then I've swung from anchorite
In an unvisited cell
To louche lout out on the town every night
I swear I’ve never smiled so wide
And your large-eyed kids squeaked with delight
You an eating an apple in a 3-ball trick
What have I missed?

Whatever we had going
Ain't showing anymore
Where there used to be laughter
Now there's only pain