A Brief Chronicling of Extremely Good Ideas

Why don't we just hold up together and
Make art about our lives
Why don't we only feel each other
How we feel through the songs we write
Why don't you drive us to get breakfast in the morning
And I'll get trapped up in the meaning of it
Why do I play in your band and you in mine
And why don't we share everything
Why don't we develop a dependency
Divine and perfect
Why don't we say "I love you" to each other
And mean it more or less than we think
Why don't wе devote ourselvеs
To making art about each other
Why don't we read too much
Into the songs we write for each other

Is it auto-fiction
If it isn't fiction
What even constitutes as a fiction
These days
Is it auto-fiction
Or autoerotic asphyxiation
Do we mean what we say at all (Oh, Oh)

I watch you erase all evidence
Of our lives being entwined at all
I watch you block and delete
I watch you do it all
Can't put a trash bag
'Round a memory
I know it's easier to pretend to hate than it is to feel anything
I watch you erase the evidence of our lives together at all
I watch you block and delete
I, I watch you do it all
But you can't put a trash bag 'round a memory
I know it's easier to pretend to hate than it is to feel (to feel)
Than to feel (Oh, than to feel)
Anything

I don't want to lie about this anymore
No, I don't want to write like this anymore
I don't want to think about this anymore
No, I don't want to write like this anymore

An artist should create beautiful things, but should put nothing of his own life into them. We live in an age where men treat art as if it were meant to be a form of autobiography. We have lost the abstract sense of beauty