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The Ones That Left Town EP

by Outside Your House

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1.
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.
2.
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.
3.
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
4.
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
5.
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
6.
Forks 02:57
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

about

The Ones That Left Town is Outside Your House's second EP release.

THIS EP IS AVAILABLE ON CASSETTE VIA FRUX TAPES here fruxtapes.bandcamp.com/album/the-ones-that-left-town-ep

Barely rap from Durham City.

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

'Quirky, catchy, unlike anything else doing the rounds right now' - In Bed With Maradona blog.

'Full of small town pettiness - I do like them enormously' - Bob Fischer BBC Tees.

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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about

Outside Your House UK

Outside Your House are a two man operation.

Faithful Johannes is part spoken word poet, part folk singer, part laid-back rapper with an eye for detail.

Sweet-singing Jonathan Swift‘s musical scrapbook of vinyl samples, live instruments and cut-up beats delivers the pop backdrop.

The melancholy of brass bands, chest pains, beer-offs, weight gain & David Attenborough
... more

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