Oh My God I'm So Fucked, I Swore on Life I'd Not Throw Up

by Orafist

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01:55
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05:10

about

Written Fall 2015 - Spring 2016 in Worcester, Massachusetts

credits

released December 22, 2016

Orafist was:
Devon Bonadonna - Guitar, piano, keyboard, dulcimer, vocals
Nick Charney - Perfect Percussion, vocals
Becca Kranz - Vocals
Tori Sargent - Bass, vocals
Emma Sprague - Keyboard, vocals

Engineering, production, mixing, mastering, tinkering, perfecting, smoothing, overdubbing, addition, subtraction - Jon Elfers, with assistance from Devon Bonadonna

All songs written and performed by Orafist

Special thanks to Jacob Folsom-Fraster, Andrew Gorham, and Adam Wriggins for maintaining the very best spot

To Worcester, and the entire Fist Baby Nation: This one's for you. You will never be forgotten.

2015 - 2016

xoxo

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Orafist Worcester, Massachusetts

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Track Name: Railroad Spike
its in a white desk chipped and scratched from my hands use, at the end of my room
its not so sharp as, to warn you against picking it up
but it still hurts enough

its holding the writings, its filled with the pictures, and the wishes
and the broken crayons
i tried to burn when you were gone
but they melted in my hands
all the colors ran
and the wax burned my arms

while you were wading, through all the dust that i
kept buried under my sheets
did you see me? through your bloodshot eyes,
and did i look anything like your allergies

my legs never looked so much like a painting of the space under my bed
with bars in between, breaking up the brightness,
and blood filling in the rest

so stop giving me these souvenirs, that you find at the railroad tracks
cause i'll accept and keep them in my room
when you refuse to have them back

even though throwing knives and railroad spikes can’t attack on their own
i invented a systems of locks and traps,
to keep them in my drawers whenever i come home
Track Name: Brother
i like the nights where i cut up my hands
i want to run but i can hardly stand
when you took off your shirt you had freckles like mine
makes me think we were cut from the same cloth at the same time

theres a tree at the end of my street,
i used to climb it with both hands and feet
but that love i once felt is now foreign to me
its locked away, imbued or trapped in old people and things

why do i feel older then
any earthly amount, yet i see no end?
when time is moving at such a dead set pace its hard to hear it erasing

you call me up and ask if I’m around
theres nothing to do but i like the sound of your voice
and your face gives me comfort
looks like how this used to be home
you white knuckle so hard here
your grip will tire soon

we stand around so uncomfortable
i used to fix your broken body but now we both know
but don’t wanna say, in strange way
the fear we faced together made us brave and alone

now all people understand how to lose a moment you’ve been chasing
Track Name: Bruce Springsteen
oh i wanna find your suicide machines
and i wanna die so completely
you should have known
called me, injury prone
i swallowed salt water
before i drove home alone

the ocean was cold, the air moved slow
it flowed in between the gaps in my teeth
in that last breath, i wrote what i had left
with my nails, scratched in the sand

i called it last rites

i changed my face, changed my clothes my hair this place
i burned down this town without making a sound
you looked distressed i saw your forever sinking chest
i turned away, i just thought you’d stay

how did things end up this bad (when its so close to ending)
try to appreciate what you had (and watch it fade away)
into someone else, before you break yourself
close up, and lock down

shut in and drown out
submit and decay
rack your brain for ways that you could stay
when you should really get the fuck away


google maps from here to alaska
i-90 till you hit nebraska
directions back home are a little unclear

find a way to fix what you’ve broken,
find a way help whoever you left without a map
who got last on the long walk back

but i, always want to leave
wherever i am, regardless of what it means
i, i hate sitting still
and the self that comes with what i ask not to feel

and it goes
google maps from here to alaska
love yourself thats all that we ask you
alright, but its easier said than done

soften up when you think that its safe to
keep swinging if you feel yourself fighting for your life
or sleep, and dream all night

please don’t ever stop
cause i need you, a whole very lot
and i, i will stick around
keep my ear to the ground, for any worrying types of sounds
Track Name: Ridgeline
in a landscape five feet wide
lit too well with neon lights
i pictured your dizzy laugh filling up the room
i tried to paint it in the next afternoon
i spilled the water and the canvas picked my hands till they bled
tore the hair out of my head
so fingers don’t fail me now, cause i can’t seem to recount and

you’re not coming back the way you were before
words and pictures are coming up short
and when i try to turn my eyes back in my head, thats all i can see

my fingernails are cracking i read it was a sign of getting old
and i can never get out of bed right I’m just like everyone that i know
so words don’t fail me now, cause i am trying to tell you right out
tiny little cracks in the picture are changing everything i told you about myself

on a mountain five thousand feet high
i sat above the tree line
i looked back at those well formed folds
that held, caressed me when i was cold
but now the scars in the tree line are looking less sharp and i can hardly draw a picture of
the pain in my legs or the aching in my chest and i never wrote down what they told me

so memories are failing me now, i’m losing past parts of myself
memories are failing me now and i will never figure out

if all my days spent on repeat
were real or just remembered dreams
cause when i think back to the ridges in your spine, they’re covered in leaves

my tiny broken fingernails are scratching trail blazes along your back
so if and when i ever get out of bed i can find my way right back
maps never did me no good, they offered poor description of the woods
but the tiny soft hairs on your chest are blowing just like oak trees

i can't get out
i am somehow
trapped beneath you
somewhere on the climb down
i got myself all tangled up in you
and your achings