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For Those Who Think You (Remaster)

by Me in Capris

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    Pre-Order Of Second Pressing in Limited Edition Rubine Red! Orders will be shipping by 9/1/18!

    Featuring Entire Remastered Album AND PHOTOS OF THE BAND.

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1.
I left the bar a bit after midnight, nothing on me but a chip and a scrape. Blood on my hands seemed to spell out you're alright, but you were warning me to expect delays. You said, "look again at the chalk it's an outline of everything you are but your face." Come on and help me out. I'm making history down south. Come on and help me out. Can't catch your breath if you're hardly breathing. Please, god take me back inside, cos I remember near to nothing and you all look like somebody just died. Come on and help me out. I'm making history down south. Come on and help me out. The singer and the drums are screaming, I hear no songs, I guess these things lie. Does life go on like some boiled dream or was that all it, just me waiting to die? I never saw no American movie without the eyes of an American man. I want to save the world in my pj's, can I just do it, yeah, I think I just can. Come on and help me out. I'm making history down south. Come on and help me out. A little faith, yeah, a bit of romance I guess don't add up to much more than lies. Wanted to dance, but I hardly loved you. Let alone knew you, or gave you the time. Jenna, Jenna, bells are ringing, can't believe that you're still sleeping. Jenna, Jenna, bells are ringing, can't you hear your demons screaming? Let it go, your noose is waiting. Dead and gone and still complaining.
2.
Cookout 04:07
The way I see it someone must've died. Whether it's parallel lines, or family ties I can hear soft eyes. You told me there was nothing left to hide. Then why oh why are both you whispering all the time? This personality crisis, could it get him a job? I told you there ain't nothing you can hide. On these parallel lines I sniff your lies out every time. At the cookout I'll spill my guts on every floor while everyone is licking all of them crumbs right up. This personality crisis, could it get him a job? We've waited so long for something to happen and we've listened to his songs, no wonder why it hasn't. Have you heard the kid's songs? No wonder why it hasn't.
3.
Pretty 02:47
I'm not pretty enough for this city tonight to take me out of my lonesome and make it alright. I keep on counting up sheep just to wake up all neat. It figures, I can't hardly sleep. I'm not pretty enough for this girl tonight. She keeps on calling me out and I can't respond right. I keep on hiding my lips just to cover my teeth. It figures, I don't want to eat. I'm not pretty enough. You're not bringing it up, but I'm not pretty enough. A fresh breath of trash, well that's that. We're fresh out of reasons to believe that the places to be bleed clean, that the people we love can't be mean, or just don't bleed clean. I'm not pretty enough. You're not bringing it up, but I'm not pretty enough.
4.
A blue light's in my eye again. I yell "bartender, hey, stagehand," they reply "son, you're the one who left the blinds open." I moved out of where the drunks all meet, where the daytime cops walk their beat, mumbling some pity-me rhyme scheme. They're singing "everyone is sober, therefore everyone is wrong, I've been trying to explain this, but you all just hear a song." I worry about these hemlocks, and get allergic to the pine that keep me from seeing you all day but you come over every night. I tell ya, when I'm woke it's blue, but when I sleep it's you. When I'm woke it's always blue. When I'm woke, it's blue, but when I sleep it's you. When I'm work it's always blue. Yeah if when I'm woke, it's blue, and when I sleep it's you, then I guess sleep is for those who think you.
5.
Summer of scowling, so I put them shades on, but the heat ain't arousing with the color all long gone. Do I want to be here, or did I leave the stove on? You're still up having your birthday, but it's already dawn. Summer of scowling, I woke up unassured and vacant. I guess it ain't that arousing, especially drunk and naked. I think you like me like children like winning a spelling bee: happy to sound out the letters while never knowing what the words mean. Was better off that way, wrinkle free and in the shade. I think I was better off that way, smooth skin and in the shade. Was better off that way, all alone back in the shade.
6.
Not My Blues 03:15
So you fell in love last winter while the ground was one big mirror, saw me twice a day 'till Friday then got high through the whole weekend with your one and only best friend asking how it was the last one got away. I kept you on an old to-do list that was scrunched up in my pocket and hid away. I treated you like fingernails or some unfinished project that I'd never keep or finish anyway. Here's back your number, the rings don't sound the same. Sorry I keep laughing, things don't work out this way. While I was strumming I came up with these chords, but it's not my blues.
7.
My old neighbor's singing Pixies songs alone, up on some roof. I wanna be Velouria when she sings "even I'll adore ya." Emile said formal, so I formal'd. A Double Windsor, a woman's blazer, a two-tone navy blue thing crawling up and out a window. I know I'm missing teeth and it took me long to get here, but by the time I did I'd assimilated well, an American in love.
8.
You are blue and I know it. You're smiling red, but I see through it. I don't have to lie and say that I hate you 'cos it's you that already knew it. When I get home I oughta burn this bridge for good, or better, or worse though I don't think I should. For better or worse, though I don't think --- Oh, it's not your fault? Well it's somebody's fault that you're blue and I know it. You're smiling red while I see through it. I don't have to lie and say that I hate you 'cos it's you that already knew it. When I get home I'm gonna burn that bridge for good, or better, or worse, no I don't think I could. For better, or worse, though I don't think I should. For better, or worse, though I don't--- Oh, it's not your fault? You say it's not your fault? Well it's somebody's fault when you call from her roof, adlib'd appointment, and I don't cherry pick you up. Pseudo suicide, you took too many pills this time to hide. You're always playing me for lovers and paying me back with store-bought flowers. Pseudo suicide, they're pulling out the pills from your insides. You're always taking me granted but I don't mind. When I get home I'm gonna burn that bridge for good.
9.

credits

released August 10, 2018

All songs by A. Demirjian, arranged by Me in Capris
Except Track 9 by Chilton/Aldridge

Tracks 1-6 instrumentals recorded by Me in Capris
to 4-Track Cassette

Tracks 1-6 Vocal Tracking (except title track) and Mixing
by Joseph K Murphy at Center of The Universe Recording, Epping, NH

Tracks 1-6 Mastered by Scott Craggs at Old Colony Mastering Studio, Boston, MA

Track 7 recorded live by Alex Bourne at The Crawl Space, Dover, NH
Mixed by A. Demirjian

Track 8-9 Recorded by Me in Capris

Original Artwork by Matt Rocco

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