Both Demos

by Perfect People

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    New mixes of both demos, includes extra song never before released ("Blue Line"). Comes with lyrics sheets AND a note from Drew about the band so far. Only 100 available!

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released 12 November 2013

All songs written by Perfect People
Recorded by Travis Allen
Vocals recorded by Joe Wren
Vocals on Blue Line and additional guitar tracks recorded by James Whitlock
Mixed by James Whitlock



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Track Name: December
This is the last time I'll bring this up. I swear this time I mean it. I am never coming back, so say goodbye. I've been a liar my whole life. I'm lucky that it keeps me fed. This is punishment for wasting my whole life--purgatory in a glass entrapment surrounded by tongues that don't speak, souls that don't feel, hearts that can't beat. When every day feels like December, summer breaks are meaningless. What is left to celebrate when tomorrow will be just like today?
Track Name: Blank Pages
A blank page is a funny thing, but fill it with cliche words and you've got a recipe for success. You'll never sell a million records, but in the end you won't feel so bad. We're cynics, but how could we not be? And though you know the world won't care about one single prick who knows life isn't fair, what choice do you have besides screaming the words you scribbled on the lines? It's true you'll never change a life with all the stupid songs you wrote. Enough time will pass, and everyone will forget, but for now, at least, things make sense.

A blank page is a beautiful thing: a place to say what you want, say what you need, the things you can't keep inside like people in Texas praying for rain while children in Africa are born diseased. Only one group can be saved. Doesn't God work in mysterious ways? Television airs the spoils of war while a nation celebrates and the dead go unmourned. And my parents tried to tell me not to let my anger get the best of me.

I never had a choice. I'm a product of all I see. This is who I am and how I came to be.
Track Name: Once Again
Once again I'm searching for the songs that will make me feel--words that will describe me, melodies to speak for me. I've lost the fervor I once had; it's like dying every time a record plays, and to be young again is the only wish that I wish I had. It's so easy when you're a kid; you make everything your own. Your mind grows with every taste of blood from a throat gone raw howling incomprehensible. But now I'm old and jaded (or something like that) and those songs don't sound so honest anymore. The sinking feeling in my gut, the weight on my chest--it's overwhelming. I can't breathe unless I'm shouting. I need to find the last piece of the puzzle to complete myself once again.
Track Name: Old Habits Die Hard
It's freezing outside tonight, and I hoped for nothing less. I'm tired of the tedium that being content can bring. I'm craving the heat of a burning bridge to warm the chill in these bones. The only addiction that I've ever had is a need for more empty friends. I've kept myself in check so far, but tonight I just might slip. I have the most lovable trait: I make everyone I care about suddenly hate me. I can make my best friend wish he had never crossed my path. If you have to ignore me, please, by all means continue. To tell you the truth, I wish I could ignore me, too.
Track Name: Thanks, but No Thanks
I started singing back when that was all I needed. It wasn't hard to do, but the revolution I was promised never came, and I got older. Then the singing turned to screaming about what I'd learned and questions of life, and death, and love. I need something more; I needed to be louder, and I couldn't always think of you. I guess you didn't like what I had to say, or was it how I said it? I'll never know. Can you really blame me for not playing by the rules you made, conceived in a nonsense right of ownership designed to break anyone who isn't you? I don't know what you want me to say; I've never been quick with my words. I won't apologize for working on my own terms instead of making friends. I was only being honest with you and with myself. There are enough liars without my help.
Track Name: 11th and Bleaker
It's a common story. I'm not a special case by any means. There's never been a reason for me to assume I have a future that's not part of a cycle of waking and wishing I was somewhere else. Underneath this big, blue sky, I'm wishing for a cloud or two to break up the monotony. Here there are no oceans to wash away my sins and no mountains to remind me how far God's reach is, just endless city for mile after synthetic mile where the only prophet is made in poisoning your brethren. We traded integrity for comfort and genuine feeling for single letter words. We made thought disposable and mislabeled ourselves as "evolved." In an invisible, infected haze where everything--especially God--is man-made, I walk alone among a thousand soulless bodies: the walking dead, the breathing damned, where once was hope; where once were dreams.
Track Name: Bastards
There's no such thing as destiny. Your stupid life was never meant to be. I may be childish at times, but please don't treat me like a child. The sad truth is we're all forgotten accidents--unplanned births from Mother Nature's failed contraception. We are Your bastards. Our Father left us unloved, unwanted, left to rot in our infinite, pail-blue orphanage waiting to be pawned off on someone who pities us: the family secret, the butt of every joke. I don't know where we go from here, but I am sick of waiting to be saved. There is no plan, no grand design. It's all make-believe. There's no such thing as destiny. There's not such thing as eternity. There's no such thing as forever. There's nothing that was meant to be. You fold your hand and play pretend. You can't accept that you make your fate--no one to see, no one to hear, no one to care yet the Earth continues to spin.
Track Name: Blue Line
I'm waking in an anonymous room full of strangers. I speak to no one. The walls breathing, sweating, alive, we worship idols, profits. Speaking dead languages and cleansing of infection, this is our ritual. This is our mass.

"Take the blue line underground," he said, "and I will follow you. We'll leave before the winter comes." Winter always lasts too long. Those times have stung my skin with bitter cold memories. "Life is pain," I'd heard it said, and I will one day know I was alive.

The passage of time slows because this is the present where we de-evolve into more primitive beings slamming fists into our chests--the first people's first drums. Natives in our discovered land before tyrants killed our civilization with plague, and war, and yearnings for gold, we sacrifice our bodies for the good of the tribe.

"Take the Blue Line underground," he said, "and leave our lives behind. We'll go to where the air is colder and freeze ourselves before we get any older." Love has burned my skin with fiery hot anger fits. "Life is pain," I'd heard it said, and I will one day know I was alive.
Track Name: Shut-In
The world is cruel: that's the first lesson you'll have to learn. And you will, believe me, you will. I'm just not sure how long you'll last. You weren't a normal kid; you never took the chance to truly live. And you're not handsome; you're short and fat, and you're not exactly smart. You've got a bad habit of not thinking before you speak and looking too long before you leap. There's so much more than what's just outside your door. There's more than what's beyond the cross-street. It isn't always pretty, but it's the only life you've got. One is enough for me. You remind me of someone I knew long ago--someone I never knew at all: a kid with no idea what life had in store for him, a kid who learned the world is cruel.
Track Name: Alpha: Autobiography
Your tears are still wet on my shoulder: tiny, weighted stains of guilt with no indication of drying. It's funny I'd lose my favorite jacket when I did, like I was shedding my old skin, so why am I the same man--straight faced and living with these broken thoughts, pumping numbness through my veins, and you quietly reminding me of how I used to be? I stole that last line from someone else's song because borrowing sentiments is all I'm good for. You can call me a plagiarist, but I always try to cite my sources. Living my life through quotes and sound bites--it's easy. You should give it a try. I'd be lying if I said I gave anything less than all I had, but I'm sorry there wasn't much left at the end.

This is the closest thing to a love song I've written in years, so of course it'd be more about me than it is about you. You were not my greatest failure, but I'll bear your mark for years and years and years. I'll always love you in my own special way like Ted Bundy loved his girls. I could find a million ways to articulate just how pathetic I've become, or you could save yourself the time and just look into these eyes.
Track Name: April
I crank it up to 88 and I remember my mistakes when I was the smallest kid with the biggest dreams, and now I'm reading messages chalked on concrete. The rain washes words away. I never understood them anyway. Steam rises up from the street, just low enough so I can't see where I'm standing. Where did all the time go? My memories aren't too clear. I'm a blurry face in old photographs, and I keep leaving parts of myself in the past hoping you'll still remember me next year.
Track Name: My Best Kept Secret
I can feel her staring at me in the dark like when you know nobody's there but, still, you have to look. Now I'm talking to myself to keep my mind distracted. It's like the worst kind of romance: I just can't get away. When I'm alone, I'm not alone and that's never brought me comfort. No, I've never felt safe. Night after night I see that face, and it's taking its toll on me. I can't forget, so how can I move on when I'm constantly reminded that I'm still just 9 years old? I can never find the words to properly explain, but I've pent this inside so long it's spilling out. Cuts and bruises but no blood and glowing eyes. It's funny how we still fear what we don't believe in. I am a prisoner. Just let me go.

I wish you shared my visions when I close my eyes; maybe then you'd understand why I'm not sleeping at night. I open my mouth and feel it drawing near because when you speak of the devil, the devil appears. No words--never any words. Silence.