FAKE by Ben Levin

ALL SALES OF THIS EP GO TO THE SOUTHERN POVERTY LAW CENTER TO SUPPORT PEOPLE IN NEED

LYRICS:

THIRD LITTLE PIG (WHAT SHOULD I BUY)
Got some nothing
Nah I know I ain’t shit
But the gossip’s got me thinking I’m real slick
And they got me guessing this things gonna last
But the wise mamma said this too shall pass

Brick house to the beach house
The wolf’s gone follow this I’m the third lil pig
I’m thirsty for comfort but the door’s just too thin
I hear my neighbors wolf’s blowing down their shit
And in my dreams I’m there getting ripped apart with them
Ripped apart with them
A martyr for a friend
You can’t rely on someone who’s in love with being dead
Who fetishizes debt
Who gives away their flesh
But I can’t love myself unless I go down with the ship
Role this role this
On record with my virtue
Signal’s coming stupid everyone congratulates you
But my family is dying from disease in my detention camp
They came here for asylum and I smashed a stake into their hands
What should I buy?

Give me talk a lot tough guy nonsense
Hear my sympathetic tone when I’m toxic
Serve me my flaming farts in a cup
I make it disappear like it’s Jeff Bezos cock
It’s a good time to buy when I hate myself

What should I buy?

HURTS
Here’s this Boggling object
A container for your love and your logic
Not enough skull so be cautious
Don’t want your dreams oozing out like a faucet

Losing out now well you lost it
Don’t matter anymore
You’re beyond this
No life no drive just a place in my mind
I return to sometimes when I forget that you died

Dyed hair smell and I rinse with the tide
Till my age shows through like a tree on its side
And the rings around Saturn and the rings to remind
I’m living each day your life at a time
Echo echo echo

Just like catching up on this
Stuff I put aside
Cause it hurts

When I say your name
Sing the song I made
Think of what you’d say
Talk the night away
Caring for your dad
When he couldn’t walk
Walking hand in hand
In the twilight park
We don’t go there yet
Don’t think it exists
But I think of it
When it’s you I miss

Haven’t had a chance
Fully process yet
Time flying so fast
I can barely grasp
I can’t even track
How much I hold back
running from the crash
Running from the fact
Seasons full of death
Slow down the attack

Chillin in the kitchen
Cookin while I listen
Making fresh pasta
Pouring the ingredients
Laughing at podcasts
Stepping over yoga matts
We’re going on a walk
To the lake after dark
Our favorite spot

Just like catching up on this
Stuff I put aside
Cause it hurts

I HOPE
Look all the lights are on
The houses packed full of people watching us
Waiting to see
where we go
Speeding train
Glowing windows

I hold my breath like a prayer
I ration thoughts as best I can
And all those measures and all the fire
I see how life just blazes by us
And just as ashes look the same
We return to the earth again
A cliche I need to hear
When other meanings won’t appear

Walk home

I’m not getting any taller
No telling how much farther
This timeline will continue on
Long after I lose my father
And long after I’m a goner
And my kids forget the things I taught em
And misplace the things I bought em
And call out in my absence
Feeling small feeling hopeless
But I’ll always be among them
Like my parents and theirs before them
We are never alone
We always have somewhere to go
In our heads
I hope

VIRTUOUS
Massive massive
Walking on glass
Passive passive
Falling on my ass
Not bad for a human
Rag doll down the hill
Not hurting nobody just get myself killed

Working out to be meek
Devastated by the thought
That recognizing virtue means ignoring so much
Cataclysmic beauty
Complicit with the gods
That sell you slick weapons so that you can get shot

If I locked in a box
And got a rich man’s trash
Dropped in a slot
Would that make me more green
Or would it mean that I taught
A generation of boss
That trash is enough if we’re working for a cause



Little button presses
Fingering the case and
Sending out a message
Full of exclamations
Brimming with contagion
Horror situations
I’m chilling in the basement
My bro’s in isolation
Guilty for the paycheck
Hunger hasn’t hit yet
Give it hundred thousand
My spirit will be wasted
In my imagination
there's no preparation
For the things they’re saying
But it’s gonna come

Trying to be a real good boy, be real good and still make money
Trying to be a wonderful friend, even though I don’t want to see anybody
I’m confused and don’t know what to do
Let’s just promise to never stop trying

I hope this helps a little.

YouTube
BenLevinMusicSchool.com