Love's Labor

by Damages

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Pressing Info: Damages - Love's Labor EP 7"

10 Test Presses
125 Red
150 White
225 Black

510 Total

Also pressed as a compact disc in a special composition book packaging; limited to 100 and hand numbered.

credits

released May 18, 2010

All lyrics by Dominic Vargaz except those denoted in individual songs.
All music by DAMAGES
Recorded in November 2009 in Lansing, MI by Kevin Kitchel.

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Damages Grand Rapids, Michigan

maybe in the next world, maybe in the next world.

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Track Name: Dreamt A Little Dream Of You
last night i dreamt that if i ran hard enough and jumped high enough that i could just fly away to a place where i could live out a life less cliche.

i've got a plan to convey who i'm trying to portray: elliott, jeff, matthew, chris, stephen, emily, charlyn, and wes - and it's cos we wanted to know the exact same thing: what does it take to finally reach that brass ring?

{my bruised ankles (ego) and my broken feet (dreams) and my heart pounding in the wet city streets. a lack of blood in my extremities from cycling through these false identities.} - scattered thoughts on the brink of sleep only made worse by the songs on repeat.

"mr. sandman, bring me a dream"*... make me a person that i have never been by bringing me peace with the sand in your hands that slips through your fingers and lingers when it lands near my nose. nobody knows (nobody knows, nobody knows...) who i want or who i'd haunt.
Track Name: Desperate Decline
there's a line in my head and it's been there all week, it goes "i'm still wanting my face on your cheek"*... it could have been my fault, but in time you'll see that i believed in love... it didn't believe in me.

it was a world that couldn't work, it was a world that wouldn't hurt, it was a world i couldn't find cos it was only in my mind. and while i sat and listened to ben, you went on and fell in love again. there was a time... if i could just remember when - i thought i'd found our way into cat heaven**. it's where exit 86 led to a house of bricks. of summer scented letters and "first day that you met her"s. of sunburned cheeks and the mountains for weeks.

here's to the love i'll never find and to all the crashing bores***. you may never be mine, but i will always be yours.

still... i dream your shadow moves across the floor by the light in the hall that slips under my door. but you still go back to your separate bed and i'm left alone in my desperate head.
Track Name: The Prisoner
is it really better to be lost than found?* just to keep on writing words to a hopeless sound? just to make myself feel worse every time you come around? just to tear my fucking throat up and continue staring at the ground?

i keep on asking "why me?", when i really should be asking "why not me?".

please, please will you tell me all of your dreams cos i'm desperately in need of something to steal; all the mountains and hills, all the rivers and streams... something tangible for me to feel.

mistakes that i keep repeating.
heartaches... i just keep repeating.

these four letters made a prisoner out of me: H-A-T-E, but these four letters will be the keys to set me free: L-O-V-E.

...another part of my story unfurled.

there is no justice in this world.
Track Name: Frowning Fortune
how many more lines until my pen runs dry? how many more sighs until my lungs will fucking die? if i were more verbose would i matter to you? if i won you over, would i get back the life i "knew"? i feel ugly now just like i felt ugly then, i might have even felt love, but i can't remember when. february through august of two thousand and four? god, it's hard to think when your heart is on the floor.* thoughts/nightmares that call for constant defeating makes it harder to feel like death's worth cheating. "living in thralls: heart is bleeding, all help needing"**... without love to fill the void i just keep on eating.
Track Name: T.S.B.T.E.H.A.M.
a nose that's full of snot v. a voice that's shot. a life of "have-not" v. "have-fucking-not". a single room, no food, and heart full of strife v. a house, a car, and a lovely wife. would i get that for leaving the wandering life? i'll probably end it with a knife. - this is an invitation to a pity party, but before you R.S.V.P., please take an inventory of the worst things you've done to me.

a dissection of myself before it's done by anybody else:
1. my wallet's always a void from never being employed
2. to remove a sullen mood i cope with plates of food
3. my front of being chaste is a total waste because by own admission i really only do it to avoid suspicion.

...god, here comes those dreaded lines - i guess i'll make them fast. "i was too far gone/i couldn't last."

if pen is truly mightier than the sword. well then, i feel i've been ignored. you won't read these words. you won't see this band. now i only feel disgust and the X on the back of my hand.
Track Name: Love's Labor
sitting with my head on a windowpane feeling like nothing will ever be good again. that nothing will ever be as "good" as it "was". i've heard "it gets better", but i know it never does.

how can i believe what's romanticized in books when i've really known is love based on looks? should i just leave "well enough" alone and find someone else for my heart to call home?

sometimes i like to think that you think of me, there's been countless times i've left this letter where i'd knew that you would see.

i'm probably giving myself too much credit...

i know you've seen the letter, but i doubt you even read it.

i've suffered below (my heart), and i've suffered above (my head). i've suffered for show (my art), and i've suffered for a love that just wouldn't grow - i felt it depart. it wasn't apropos, it tore my life apart. my heart, my head, my art... all dead.

i wish that i could just forget:
all the fucks that i regret.
waking up in a cold sweat.
the weight of unpaid debt.

i've walked through the rains, lived the aches and pains, but the feeling never wanes that
life is losses, never gains.