Everything is a Lot (Remastered)

Front Street (Remastered)

music & lyrics by Will Wood
Produced by Will Wood
Recorded by Simon Ficken at Backroom Studios in Rockaway NJ and Jonathon Maisto at Kawari Sound in Wyncotte PA
Mixed & mastered by Kevin Antreassian
String section and choir arranged by Will Wood
Baritone ukulele, piano, keyboards - Will Wood
Upright bass - Vater Boris
Electric guitar - Mike Bottiglieri
Strings - Yoed Nir
Choir - Sofia Session Choir & Orchestra LTD.

==Lyrics==

I was right there  
While you fought tooth and nail
Gasping in the gas mask thrashing till you disappeared
Say you’re not scared, that you know it’s cause I cared and
Say you know I love you, and that hope was just not there

And I know, I know that I’m wrong
That when you’re gone you’re gone 
And I can’t bring you home
But I want, I want to believe
That you’ll remember me when you’re just memory

Roots in the ground
Or uploaded to the cloud or
Warm inside our hearts or as electrons in our head – nowhere now
Over the rainbow, can I stop by and say hello and
Sorry I would take it back if I could but I know

To love one from too far to call
Is not to love at all, to whom is it I talk?
But I want, I want to believe 
That you can still hear me when you’re just memory

Said “it’s okay”
And “It’ll be all be over soon"
I’d never let a bad thing happen to you
Now goodnight I love you

And every, everybody dies 
Fighting for their lives, just trying to survive
Well now I know, I know why we say
That there’s a better place that waits beyond the grave, oh

And I know, I know it’s not true. 
There’s just no more you but as long as there’s no proof
Then I choose, I choose to believe 
That we’ll met in sweet dreams after you’re put to sleep

Euthanasia

I’m that first-person they talk about in all the books
I’m that perspective you cannot doubt, see how I look
Control the narrative reliably, baby it’s all about me
And I wrote the book about throwing the book at those who
Don’t do it by it
So now I’m holding myself hostage, Stockholm lust just looks like justice
And enough lefts don’t make the right but two wrongs do
Oh man, Sun Tzu would love this.
Beating my dead high horse off the high road to low ground cause
If you shake your fist at snakes in grass it looks like punching down.

So God forbid I’m seen just as an average human being
I mean, imagine if protagonists just died in the first scene
I’m the gap between a tragedy and comedy, don’t come at me
I’m the main character, and you have to like me

I loot plot-armor from NPC’s, well they are to me
Trite tropes, traits, traumas, trinkets, and treats. It’s all XP. Look in the
Sky, it’s a bird, it’s a plane, no it’s super-ego! The underdog you cheer for
Villains are everywhere, that’s how I know I’m the hero
So tie me to the train tracks, laugh and snidely twist your mustache, Snidely Whiplash
Boris Badinov, ignorin’ me’s bad enough, where do you get off?
Da, das vadanya darling, Daleks in high collars monologue 
And I outsmart them with a ray-gun and a tweet

So God forbid I’m seen just as an average human being
I mean, imagine if protagonists just died in the first scene
I’m the gap between a tragedy and comedy, don’t come at me
I’m the main character, and you have to like me

Judge me by what my cover shows, author becomes beyond reproach
You don’t know the prose, or if the spine is still intact.
Oh, like Alice fell to wonderland, come astroturf my Overton
Embolden my demand to live by alternative facts.

Her majesty says "the royal we demand a standard loyalty” 
An agreement to be reverent, lick the emperor’s new boots.
The court fool got the guillotine, the witches the stake, you the dopamine 
And Siemens made the Zyklon B, but we all still get the flu. (It’s nothing new)
We all do what we need to to get through.
But I ain’t done a fucking thing to you.

So god forbid I’m seen just as an average human being, I mean
Imagine if antagonists lacked any evil scheme
I’m the gap between a tragedy and comedy, don’t come at me
I’m the main character and you have to like me.

The Main Character

Falling up

Your stratospheric fear of catastrophe’s near, fast it’s here 
Atmosphere past your ears, fall but you’ll neverland
Second star to the right…

I’m gripping the grass and I’m pulling up daisies
Thank matter for mass and the comfort of gravity
Airplane eclipses over spirals of math, would or could the impact kill me?
Yes, yes, yes. No, no, no, no, no.
It’s just the high-noon moon saying “shoot for the stars!”
“Be the next big constellation, connect the dots between your parts!”

Dandelion seeds yet to ride on the breeze
You make a wish upon the dead but turn and call it a weed.
Only plastic flowers never die

With the bones of a crow and ambitions of candlewax
What do you know of control? The wind is simply at your back
It really seems pollen’s more clever than bees, so you cue the final words of Leary:
And cry “Why, why, why? Why not? Why not? Why not?”
I’d rather be a hot-air Hindenburg than an elephant tied right down to its stake
Cut ties, shed the dead weight. I ain’t saying it’s fate, but there are no mistakes

And dandelion seeds yet to ride on the breeze
You make a wish upon the dead but turn and call it a weed.
Only plastic flowers never die. 

While I cry on skies of blue linoleum. 
Clouds of spilt milk, but am I the cup?
Here comes the sun, am I falling up?
Falling up. 
Here comes the sun, am I falling up?

Disney-Pixar Ludovico, Shirley Temple maraschino
Hotel rooms of Motley Crüe, Broadway producer improv troupes
Ray-Bans in your living room, eyeline hurts to be in view like
Stage fright only when its karaoke night with friends leave early
Did I earn this stupid hat? Is now really a good time for a new tattoo?
Oh, is now really a good time for a new tattoo?  

The larger they are
The harder they tend to fall
Much larger than life cause from such height
Life looks awful small

And dandelions grow in dirt
Magic mushrooms grow in piles of bullshit
I grew up in suburbia. 
Love us or hate us, pick us you’re killing us, and 
Dandelion seeds yet to ride on the breeze
You make a wish upon the dead but turn and call it a weed
Only plastic flowers never die. 

While I cry on skies of blue linoleum. 
Clouds of spilt milk, but am I the cup?
Here comes the sun, am I falling up?
Falling up. 
(Dandelion seeds yet to ride on the breeze 
You make a wish upon the dead but turn and call it a weed.
Dandelion seeds yet to ride on the breeze, you make a wish.)
Here comes the sun, am I falling up?
Falling up. 
(Dandelion seeds yet to ride on the breeze
You make a wish upon the dead but turn and call it a weed.
Dandelion seeds yet to ride on the breeze, you make a wish.)
Here comes the sun, am I falling up?

Did I earn this stupid hat? Is now really a good time for a new tattoo?
Oh, is now really a good time for a new tattoo?

Your stratospheric fear of catastrophe’s near, fast it’s here 
Atmosphere past your ears, fall but you’ll neverland. 
Second star to the right…
And straight on ‘till you die.

Falling Up

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POPTALE OST 7 - Can You Really Call This A Shop I Didnt Receive Options To Buy Anything

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