The Dishes

by Dead Languages

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written at various points throughout the past year. came to fruition during the subzero winter of 2013-14. songs about stress and the mundane.


released March 2, 2014



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Dead Languages Buffalo, New York

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Track Name: Debt
I'm starting to notice how all of my shit should be thrown away
Got a new car
It's older than my last one

Got a new look
Thinning hair and old t-shirts
I spent my check on weed and wine
And I get anxious all the time
When the future's impending doom says
"We're all in debt"
We'll figure it out by "then"
We've made sure our time's well spent
STOP comparing myself with friends
And everything between
Whether your rolling up blunts with friends
Or if hiding in your beds
Or if taking your vitamins

I'm starting to notice how everyone likes to talk about themselves
Word to the wise
No one's fucking listening
Track Name: Belly (February 2013)
a full belly of chinese
& someone you hope to die with
after the walking dead i passed out cold
i always wake up early and always shower first
i tidy the room and feel so fucking old
Track Name: Silver Mining In Nevada
Post office. Cortez, Nevada.
With a letter in my hand
"Can't say the next i'll be home"
Writing you how long it's been

Hands black and dirt clothes
And i'm calloused everywhere
I've swung an axe every way
Make me mine all day

Not enough words to answer
"How have you been?"
Days can be long and painful
Working for rent
Somewhere to be, my hole
I need a constant
I've mulled it over in every way
Make me mine all day

Say the tracks I lay circle

Tunnel through rock and a reserved past
The only thing that lasts
Nostalgia peaks over every phrase
It decays and digs and mines all day

And it mines all day
Track Name: Carrots
I'm cutting up carrots to bake
While Spencer and Zach play
Mario Cart while I wait to go to work
And in this mindset I stay
Familiar faces move away
A familiar cast, an unfamiliar play
In this context I stay
Cutting up carrots to bake
Possessing all that it takes to go to work
We need a timeline to place
Those hollow jokes, that familiar face
Or that pot of dirt, those candid games
That frozen lake
I'm noticing things to late
Accumulating things to hate
It's past 8, as i await
To get out of work
In this context I stay
Cutting up carrots to bake