Conor Oberst

And me I'm in my bedroom drawing in my notebook
Because my hand thinks I'm an artist
But my heart knows I'm a poet
It's just words they mean so little to me.

So I go back and forth forever
All my thoughts they come in pairs
Oh I will, I won't, I doubt, I don't,
I'm not surprised but I never feel quite prepared

Well morning came, and it dressed the sky in a lovely yellow gown.
Shopping malls are opening in that narrow hallway of downtown,
filled with people who are shopping for their lovers and their friends,
singing "I won't ever be lonely again"

Honesty" "Accuracy" is just "Popular Opinion.

There is no Hell when you die so don't look so worried

I sing and drink and sleep on floors
And try hard not to be annoyed
By all these people worrying about me.
So when I'm suffering through some awful drive,
You occasionally cross my mind.
It's my hidden hope that you are still among them.
Well, are you?

You'll be free child once you have died
from the shackles of language and measurable time

Now I'm hunched over a typewriter
I guess you call that paintin' in a cave
And there's a word I can't remember
and a feeling I cannot escape

so immagine what you want and hold onto that thought
cause thats as close as it will ever come
and believe you're were you're are
keep acting out the part
but at the end of the day
the trees all get wheeled away
and you'll be standing alone in a blank, blank space

The sound of loneliness makes me happier

If I loved you, well that's my fault

If I die tonight, then I guess I die tonight
Let me go on.

Sometimes I worry that I've lost the plot
My twitching muscles tease my flippant thoughts
I never really dreamed of heaven much
Until we put him in the ground.

You mean nothing to no one but that's nobody's fault.

For a song I was bought
Now I lie when I talk
With a careful eye on the cue card.
Onto a stage I was pushed,
With my sorrow well rehearsed.
So give me all your pity and your money, now (all of it).