As you can see, this next song is called, “Los Angeles,” where I had the good fortune to live for two months of my life. I briefly stayed in Burbank for close to two and a half months for a internship that would give me my first glimpse of what it’d be like to potentially work in the film industry. I was a Production and Development intern for Constantin Film, a German production company that’s helped produce films like Pompeii and the Resident Evil franchise.
I loved the people I’d interact with at the office, day in and day out, and I enjoyed the work I was doing, but just that two month span was enough for me to know that I didn’t want to work on the business side of the industry. Nonetheless, it was my first experience in the real world, both with and without the college safety net to help me; it was during the summer, but I still had half of my college life left and felt sure of myself as a soon-to-be professional.
So, with a nihilistic frame of mind, I used this song to sarcastically take vocational ambitions down a peg while employing a little self-deprecation towards the struggles I’ve experienced trying to break through into journalism. You’ll find I used a lot of The Wizard of Oz imagery, as well.
Also, that “Check the curtains/check the bar” bit; I just randomly came up with it hoping it would make sense and, lo and behold, the actor who played The Wizard (Frank Morgan) was known to have a drinking problem. There’s my sense of dark humor ya – or just me being a asshole. It could be either one.
Fuck all you eagles, I’ll roam with the wolves
and claim modulation means breaking the mold.
The less beaten path only glistens like gold
if we internalize that we’ll never be bold.
So close to winning.
Too close for comfort.
I’ll keep riding coattails
from one to another.
We all ought to be
accustomed to crumbs.
Move onto the next world
when this one is done.
I’m a trust fund kid without a home
and my eyes have seen what I don’t know,
but I haven’t,
no I haven’t
been justfied for my time.
We’re raiding towers
we’re invited to
’cause we haven’t a thought
what we’ll possibly lose.
It can’t be that much
when we’re on borrowed time.
The surface is emerald,
but it’s worthless inside.
Check the curtains.
Check the bar.
That fucking wizard
cannot have gone far.
(The answer he owes is not the one we deserve.
The answer he owes is not the one we deserve.
The answer we’re owed is not the one we deserve,
yet the question we can’t solve is just as preferred.)
I am the broken soul the heart has shown
to applaud the scars to which I’m prone,
but I haven’t,
no I haven’t,
been justified for my time.
Am I drinking
or just sinking?
I’ve not a care for what’s right.
The roads hold out
hope for us now.
They’re always blind to their end.
It’s a story.
Praise the glory
of knowing we can’t all win.