feelin' nauseated 
stomach started seperatin
stay medicated 
and your presence agitating
it's like regurgitated words
is all to justify and fake it
I can't take it anymore

baby, ctrl alt del
i was sipping when I fell
ends justify the means
baby, how can you not tell?

you been putting me through hell
baby, ctrl alt del

ballin off some rikodeine, i can't feel a damn thing
that was when my lungs gave out

slipping on dishonesty, that was animosity
we was only some days out

get the last word in
baby I was hurting
i was laying down
and you didn't care to call

i know you were turning
all the pages, burning
all the words
all the words i said before

feelin' nauseated 
stomach started seperatin
stay medicated 
and your presence agitating
it's like regurgitated words
is all to justify and fake it
I can't take it anymore

baby, ctrl alt del
i was sipping when I fell
ends justify the means
baby, how can you not tell?

you been putting me through hell
baby, ctrl alt del


[lyrics end]


2 remixes
liberally containing samples from:
ctrl alt del - corbin
if you're too shy (let me know) - the 1975

written and performed by corbin, boyer & the 1975
produced & engineered by boyer in soundsculpt studio, qld



ctrlaltdel (animosity)

Sellapoint Tower (feat. Tallboyshort)

ambient feb 25

Ambient mix may 2025

apologies demo

Memories, I hold in my head. 
All the things that I wish I had, left. 
Telling me that you know what's best; 
I don't need nothing, nothing's there.

chordials_8.1 (demo/concept)

MIX + MASTER : SYRYUS
DESIGN: KILL TRAVIS

in the kitchen blind
hands dirty as some pigeon pie
time keeps inching by
hands still dirty like pigeon pie

lad know im sweet with the workers
not creeping backrooms but know we some searchers
not pumping tills but pump the engine til we unearth ya
on the path like a sherpa stalking lurkers
bitch wasnt passionate had to curve her
and curving dogs im an earner
syryus fucking up the beat yelling kurwa
he gonna take it further makin dungeon from a server
30 pounds in the ute and he still drink drives
blue bruise looking like the mottled night sky
60 on a e bike no green got chop run a kief pipe
lean n white striding under streetlights
dirty bumbag dirty katty jacket dirty satty
they come back to the alley for the gakky gladly
careful of those vallied cunts who are flicky happy
or be ready to rip them all way more badly

got bulls with me but im not with the bull
wanna break the first rule then i guess its lucky they dont keep a tool

in the kitchen blind
hands dirty as some pigeon pie
time keeps inching by
hands still dirty like pigeon pie

fixing up the stitching with fishing line
kitchen knife fist held tight
still plenty times i sit and whine
but its not a mime when im out gettin mine
cutter seems shy til its all chopped and diced
stack spread like a prison wife
grafting til the blisters shine
at the risk of sounding trite
theyre the bitch it type
we're the risk it type
for the biscuit pitching white in the night
never fucken let a buck whistle by

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of art and does not reflect the views of the artist(s). All content is fictional.

helpme(demo)

ENS

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