In Case I Make It (stylized as "In case I make it,") is Will Wood's most directly personal release to date, featuring a collection of plainly-spoken chamber-pop songs originally intended as what has been referred to as a "musical suicide note." Despite marking a significant change in style, ICIMI still features Wood's infamous eccentricity, serious yet tongue-in-cheek lyrical density, and genre-bending experimentation. This double LP deals with themes of relationships, personal growth, introversion, struggles with publicity, and going viral. ICIMI is also Will Wood's first time taking on the role of producer in full, and showcases major orchestral compositions and arrangements the singer-songwriter took on himself, as well as the same band that helped make his previous record "The Normal Album" such a unique album.

Songs by Will Wood   
Piano, uke, keys, percussion, Vox: Will Wood
Saxophones, clarinet, flute: Matt Berger
Drums, percussion: Mario Conte
Guitars, Lap Steel, Mandolin: Mike Bottiglieri
Basses: Vater Boris
Trumpet: Rob Schaefer
Trombone: Jim Hopson
Tuba: Gideon Juckes, Jim Hopson
Strings on Becoming the LastNames performed, recorded by Yoed Nir, arranged in collaboration with Will Wood
All other strings arranged by Will Wood, performed and recorded by Yoed Nir
Additional strings on “Euthanasia” performed and recorded by Annie Leeth

Choir: SOFIA SESSION ORCHESTRA & CHOIR w/ FOUR FOR MUSIC LTD
Arranged: Will Wood & Four For Music LTD
Team: Boris Radilov, George Strezov, Georgi Elenkov PhD, Ognyan Georgiev, Miroslava Ananieva, Tsvetan Topalov, Velislava Georgieva, Delyan Kolev, Deyan Velikov
Recording producer: Goerge Strezov
Engineers: Plamen Penchev, Vladislav Boyadzhiev, Angeliya Vihrova
Conductor: Georgi Elenkov PhD, 
Piano: Zornitsa Genova

Produced by Will Wood
Recorded @ Backroom Studios - Simon Ficken
Piano @ Kawari Sound - Jon Maisto
Engineer: Simon Ficken
Piano engineer: Jon Maisto
Mixed/mastered: Kevin Antreassian
Sex, Drugs, Rock ‘n’ Roll master by Mike Lisa, mix Gabriel Francis, recorded by Will Wood & Jonathon Maisto

Special thanks: Patreon members, especially VIPs long-timers & mods. Soph Kamm, Magnus Selin, Connor Treutle, Dimitar Dimitrov, David Haltom, Jason Ayers Raphael Kräker, Michael Linnert, Ezra Leonard, Diz Foster , Kellie Grimes, Niki Brown, Max Peia, Vesper Nichols, Temple Jenkins, Julie Taron, Aidan Truskowski, Sam Nee, Julie Taron, River Morgan, Nate Olson, Ev Usher, Dashiell Schaldenbrand-Igarashi, Flint Cole, Vance Barnhill, Wim Filemon, Peter Short, Vincent Cramer, Sebastian Wright, Daniel A. Hughes, Duncan Moore, Alexander Russon, Auguste Szołucha, Cameron Taranis, Max Barbosa, Evan Asche, Jason Storey, Andy Routhier, Lynn Stock, Selena Ahmed, Georgiana “Gio” Marone, Liru Færs, Something Graphic, Kali Forrest, Leah McQuain, Kennady Ose, Galatea Kim, Devon Boswell, thicc murg, vondasl, Lily Mayle, Samantha Bourke, Joseph Olsson, Hollo the Raven, Rj is Okay, flittle606, Sahara Martin, Skyler Love, Donovan Giusti, Kara Krone, Claire Hammett, Jessica Holowicki, Nicholas Sundheimer, Michael Larsen, Liam Haines, Sean Barnett, ethan puchailo, Rachel Palme, Joseph J Weber, Noah Carter, Eamon Sherris-Watt, Alan Price Kristin Peers, Arturo Rosas, Grace Sullivan, Scout Francke, Aidan Forde, Christie Felker, Kaitlin Martinez, Skylar Marshall, Erkka Hiljanen, Kobe Bryant Angel, Kevin Mast, alistairtherondodd, Bobby connor, carly.stuber, Lillian Clardy, Rj is Okay Marco Jeske, Emrys van Wonderen, Robert Del Presto, Andrew Snodgrass, Kristin Peers, Alexis Williams, Georgia Byrd, Amy Arin, Lex Mug, money33432. Emerson Lopes, Basil Polichar, Titus LaFrombois, hanhanheavn, Corey C, regalmortis, Mac Weaver, Jonathan Wienecke, Ana Ramona August, hdbroadwell, Dan Castillo, Allison van cleve, kate watanabe, SkylerBoswell, Bryce Ungerbuehler, Len Korovessis, apanagakos01, Landers Markwick, Emily Murray

"In case I make it,"

They paint the walls with colors that you’re not meant to notice
Beiges and browns, off-whites and grayscales
Fluorescent lights to shine on the eggshell ground
Now you’re lying face down
You blend into the background
Of white noise

They fill the halls with tunes you can’t get into your head
4/4 and Dorian, wrote ‘em for ignoring ‘em
Yeah, it sorta sounds like a retro top-40 but wrong
You’re not meant to sing along
It isn’t that kind of song
It’s white noise.

But If you listen closely I swear, to God I swear
You can hear the ocean if you hold it up to your ear, here:

White noise
If you listen close between the waves
White noise
You can hear the ocean through your wake
White noise
If you listen close between the waves
White noise 
You can hear the ocean through your wake

Check one two. Check one two
It’s high fidelity lossless quality, it’s MP 1 2 3 4 5 FLAC
It’s polyphonic, the new philharmonic, with a Julliard doctorate. Live from The Metropolitan: 
It’s theoretically dense, it’s impressive, it’s microtonal and it challenges western
Notions of art, it’s post-avant-garde, it’s going places ‘cause it comes from the heart and
Its personality’s a lack of identity. It makes no statement but does so quite loudly
It’s an aesthetic, I mean an anesthetic, and its an experience for your seventh sense, yes
Does it cure cancer? Yes, it cures cancer. Wow! It begs the question just to tell you the answer
Do you believe in the power of silence? Well if you walk the walk, can you talk more quiet?

White noise
If you listen close between the waves
White noise
You can hear the ocean through your wake
White noise
If you listen close between the waves
White noise 
You can hear the ocean through your wake

You fill your head with thoughts you find you can’t even feel
Try to make room in your skull, but its full of them
All of the things that you think and then think about thinking
I know It’s hard
But they’re not who you are
They’re white noise

White Noise

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

Will Wood takes on the perspective of a doomed mouse. Released with a stop-motion animated video by Ivan Fisher-Owen featuring intricate laser cut wood engineering and hand-animated real-world puppets, optical illusions, and animated machinery.


==Lyrics==

I have mapped the cupboards and drawers
Tracked the least-walked spots on the floor
Happy to be home, safe and warm
As shadows by their feet, the odd vanishing treat
Quietly eating while they sleep

So here’s where I’ll be raising my kids
If I can find someone to start a family with
Till then I dream of the day my odds and ends fit
I’ll wake up, there’ll be food on the stove forever
And never want for more

Is there cheese in the great beyond? 
Rinds of parmesan, wine to water, night from dawn
Life gets shorter, teeth grow long
Mind me not and I’ll mind my own, and my mind’s
Not one bite smaller or lesser than yours
Do I belong in “right and wrong?”
Nature, I guess.

One night one flung light through this place
So I run for cover, over under, left the rind out on the plate
Little heart racing and praying “something keep me safe,
I think it saw my face, okay,
One hungry day is nothing, come what may.”

But then winter came inside for three nights 
Left me grinding my teeth between my walls and gripping my dreams tight
Curled up kept my head up and put up the fight
I’ll make it through again. I have before. Come on now, what’s one more?

Is there cheese in the great beyond? 
Rinds of parmesan, wine to water, night from dawn
Life gets shorter, teeth grow long
Mind me not and I’ll mind my own, and my mind’s
Not one bite smaller or lesser than yours
Do I belong in “right and wrong?”
Nature, I guess.


Spring bloomed in the kitchen again
So I crawled out of the wall and squinting
Saw hope on the stovetop just like I’d always imagined it
More than I could eat, my dreams were finally reality
My struggles had a happy ending, they must want to be friends!

My stomach starts to turn, with thirst, why does it hurt?
My just desert is served, dig in.

And so I stumble back to bed
Something’s not quite right. Guess I’ll just go rest my head
Now as I lay me down to sleep
I expect no dreams, and no sweet goodbye to me
Flatline in the morning light. I held on so tight for so long
It’s just not right, let a sigh out as I close my eyes.
Was that all there was to this?
What’s for the best?

Is there cheese in the great beyond? 
What’s the moon made of? Meet me there after I’m gone
Life gets shorter, teeth grow long
Mind me not and I’ll mind my own and my mind
Held the same light as the one in your eyes.

Do I belong in “right and wrong?” 
One dies alone? And why? Don’t know.
Goodbye. So long. 
To mice in homes.

Nature, I guess.
Nature, I guess.
Nature, I guess.

Tomcat Disposables

==Lyrics==

The greener grass grows where the wildfires fertilize
With ashes of sparrows, peppered moths, and butterflies
Ghosts of trees and termites bloom in the beanstalk

And if you get lightheaded when standing too fast
Is it from shaking out the weight of phosphenes and pasts
Salt deposits on warm little rivers that burst from our words

And god knows crying ain’t gonna change a thing
She said “take care,” but I take more than I bring.

She said “It just feels inhumane to lose this much”
Cause when you leave, you know you take more than your love
Just one week of cicada days we’re losing touch
And I know it just feels inhumane to lose this much.

Our nerves were braided under ceiling stars, they were all
Glow-in-the-dark, hanging over queen-sized 
Purple waves of ancient chemicals
Just whisper

Did you ever build with those endangered bones?
Well the ground looks soft enough to bury this now
Oh please, oh no.

And then my sponsor said “Do nothing. Nothing works.”
And then my doctor said “Don’t do that if it hurts.”

She said “It just feels inhumane to lose this much.”
Cause when you leave, you know you take more than your love.
The seasons of cicada days we can’t make up
And I know it just feels inhumane to lose this much.

Let all my red flags fade to white, yeah, I give up
Don’t let me leave, I’ll only take more than I gave. Okay, I’ll pack my stuff
Here at the end of days, my god, what have I done?
Christ now it feels damn inhumane to get all I've dreamed of

Keep coming back, it works if you work it
So work it, you’re worth it, it won’t if you don’t
One day at a time, tomorrow’s too late, amen.

Cicada Days

Don’t take the following words as reverence for tradition
I’ve learned to pick my battles by losing most I’ve fought.
The more mores subverted, the more I sense I’m missing
And I’ll always do it my way, even if that’s just the same way I was taught.

I’ll bring home the bread and you’ll stay home and bake it
Weeding out the garden where the milestones gather moss
Crack a smile at my vows, and whisper “wow, can you believe we really made it?”
As I give up on dodging rice, and fold my cape, I say “obviously not.”

But I want to be just like my parents before I was born
Oh can we be just like my parents?

I know you don’t want kids but think about a daughter
We could name her Gwendolyn, like mom would have called me.
I’m not sure yet myself, but I learned from a good father
Yeah, I mean sure, they messed me up. But I think that’s just the gig.

And maybe it’s just some hormones that kick in in your late twenties
But I have laid a lot of women, and now I’d like to just lay down
And marriage always scared me, but I’d like to have a last love
And love can last a pretty good long while. I’ve seen it around.

Oh, can we be just like my parents when I was young?
Why can’t we be just like my parents?

Tongue out of my cheek now, I’m done pulling faces
Iconoclasm wanes. My cynicism tires
But what do I know bout forever when so far, I’ve been so fleeting?
Babe, my frontal lobe’s done growing; this might just be how I’m wired
But now we’re kissing before brushing, smile with our whole faces
If you want a hyphen last name I guess I don’t mind the cadence
I’ve seen home videos. I was there back in the 80’s
And if I’m just them and they back then could do it, why can’t I?

Just like my parents in due time
Imagine me, just like my parents? Yeah, right.

‘Cause I’ve made more mistakes, than simple empty moments
Each one as out of character as you know I tend to be
There’ll be scalpers at the cemetery gates, with all my would-be widows weeping
I’d have forgotten all their names, so why should you remember me?

But if we grow old together and you talk to my headstone,
That is, assuming that I die first, (which is fair) and assuming I don’t leave
Close enough to forever, I guess, to prove what I hoped.
I mean otherwise how am I to believe?

Becoming the Lastnames

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

Independent experimental singer-songwriter and multimedia artist, currently fast asleep.