Good News For People Who Love Bad News: 20th Anniversary Expanded Edition

Float On (Dan the Automator Remix)

Some nights I feel the world
breathing through the cracks in me,
like time is folding
around the memories I tried to keep clean.
And I wonder
if every moment we survived
was just a quiet lesson
we didn’t know how to read.

This life
is a strange machine.
It turns our pain into meaning
long after we stop bleeding.

There’s a quiet truth
hiding underneath our noise,
that all we ever own
are the echoes of our choices.
We’re shadows with a pulse,
drifting through a borrowed sky,
weightless
but trying to leave something that survives.

I held my breath for years
waiting for the world to make sense,
but everything keeps changing
faster than the scars can settle in.
And maybe
we’re not meant to understand the structure,
only carry pieces of the story
that shaped us.

Maybe meaning
is just a reflection
we catch for a second
before it slips back into the dark.

There’s a quiet truth
hiding underneath our noise,
that all we ever own
are the echoes of our choices.
We’re shadows with a pulse,
drifting through a borrowed sky,
weightless
but trying to leave something that survives.

And if nothing here is certain,
why does it feel so real
when a moment breaks us open?
Why do we cling to details
that the universe forgets?
Maybe the smallest things
are the ones that stay.

There’s a quiet truth
that follows us like light.
We’re temporary bones
carrying infinite nights.
We fade,
but something in our wake remains.
The quiet truth is simple:
we are more than what we lose.

Float On (Dan the Automator Remix)

Modest Mouse