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lyrics

Every night, in this room, I am cold. I don't move.
While we're spinning, I point at you.
Then a drink spills. Nothing moves.
This old rug, I've had for years,
and this notebook. You just stare.

There is Nothing.

There is Nothing Left to do.
There is Nothing here for you.
There is Nowhere, left to go.
Might as well just go back home.
The right hand is made to kill.
While the left is full of pills.
You should choke all of them down...

There is nothing.

My nose always has to Bleed
For all the things I put in me.
No way to bleed all you out.
No way to drown out the sound.
If the clock is set for ten,
But when we wake, don't matter when?
Nothing here, means a thing...

There is nothing.

credits

from a little bit to the left​.​.​., released June 18, 2013
All Music and Lyrics © 2013 Edward Raney
Photo by Edward Raney

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Experiments in Low Fidelity Rockford, Illinois

You may not know it yet, but when you're drawing your final breath, as the screen is fading to black, and the credits begin to roll. This is what you'll hear. The soundtrack to the movie that is your life.

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