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thanks for everything

by frankie cosmos

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dreams idea 00:14
i dreamed you were in my dreams do you really mind me?
dreamd 02:06
i dreamed you were in my dreams do you really mind me? i went back to sleep i felt so dreamy and i wrote poetry dreamed that i made paintings i dreamed you were all a dream dreamed everybody hated me “he laughs and he acts as though he’s pleased with himself but it’s only to fool everyone else” i dreamed we went to par-ee i dreamed that you really loved me i woke up and brushed my teeth i woke up and went back to sleep i buried my face in the ground i saw you walking around your dreamy small town the suburbs swampy grey and brown “he laughs and he acts as though he’s pleased with himself but sometimes he can only fool himself”
i’m not scared of the water rocks in my pockets doesn’t really matter i live inside a world of cotton-wool i live inside of everybody’s street lamps hi my name is franklin cosmos and i am in love with Ronald i break my own heart like apples i drink my love’s blood like Snapple we come home from our trip to France he is wearing his new jacket and pants and if i simply say “the seine” it'll be most beautiful thing i ever said so fuck writing music if you see something it’s yours i break my own heart every time we part i think "he can’t love me anymore" when you aren’t here i can’t wait to see Eliza dear every night in France we drank wine
i don’t wanna do it i don’t wanna do it it’s a waste of my time i got other things on my mind i don’t wanna stay here i just wanna leave here watching the day go by what a waste of my time
i have a lot of friends i don’t have any friends i never see them slow summer i can’t get out of bed my paintings are all bad when i feel upset slow summer why do i feel so undone? boy are you tough but boy am i tougher i buried my heart where it can’t be uncovered nothing to hate live in the lake sleepy mistake slow summer why do i feel so undone? bold summer freeze everyone
thrilled 01:49
you’re like a beauty mark on my life making art in the orange light of the train station i once died in suburbs are haunting and our love was secret your lawn was daunting but i couldn’t keep it close in my memory do you ever dream of me we never listened to Supper cause you always loved her i hated that blue couch i hated your cold mouth but if i told you what i need you’d hate me i’m made of seashell when i don’t feel well i’m made of fingernails i push mine through your hair mystery lies in your breast cause i just forgot your chest
the moon is bright where we got stoned and i hate you all over again i threw out another painting today i don’t think i’ll ever understand i wouldn’t even have these thoughts if it weren’t for a single love note and Gwen my dream rolls on the lawn naked with her shirt still on hair in a flurry, 2 and a half valium yesterday i put on fresh clothes and wept to mom but i’m good luck today today i am just fine i just love my problems and turn beet red while i try and serge & i fall asleep in the laundry room together i pet his head and kiss his knees and tell him i’m sorry
when 02:27
i need your dust in my eyes to learn about you you want me to figure it out myself you make me crazy and then you make me eggs we are the sun on their backs you are my arms you are my legs you make me crazy then you make me eggs i am the flower in your hair you are the poppy in my teeth the second we turn the rest of the road looks pitch black to everyone it all comes down to me and i don’t care about anybody and in the pitch black we live inside our radio i’m asleep and it’s dark and i ate and no one knows it all comes down to me and i don’t care about anybody else
dime 02:55
some day i’ll tell my daughter eliza just try to make the same mistakes that i’ve done they’re pretty fun but when the fun is over you get hungover that’s the moon is not a quarter it’s probably a dime i mostly sit at home these days and make paintings by myself when will somebody tell me to stop hating everyone else? and the ceiling fan slows down and falls fast asleep and i’m walking home to my lovers house across the street and i can’t see a thing in the dark and i’m wondering where’s the dog well he’s home with his hips sprawled out on the bed and he somehow hits his head and this is what i said you’ve got a lot of life to start living hey mister can i bum one of those things it was the hottest day casual cocaine darling theres a gun in the garland rolling pins on sore legs french toast fried eggs
tymon 00:32
sitting in tymon’s attic i am thinking about god sitting in tymon’s attic i realize its actually doug’s tymon isn’t coming today tymon isn’t at the cafe tymon isn’t coming today cause tymon moved away
black paint 00:52
I love my brother Owen though I do not know him I only dream of you sometimes Eliza too it's raining in my head I cry and eat my bread my tears are what I spread on convoluted meals icicles hanging in caves have very special names I love my honey's lungs I kiss him on the tongue ronnie & frank holding hands at the bank undoing what I've done will not have been much fun
who cares 01:32
it’s easy to look happy when your heart is broke put on your biggest clothes mama put on some bigger clothes don’t scowl at me, it’s not my fault i’m on your side i’ve been sad for years ‘cause there’s a heart in my heart and brain on my brain because my hands are my hands and babe i’m insane all my day dreams got rained out are my lovers real i cannot tell just pretend you’re fine to the girl in line i don’t talk to my friends ‘cause i wanna be alone again and everyone says “what” like it’s nothing when your heart is in something
wine in love 01:08
smoking pot with dad around daddy thinks I am profound go back to the river bad reaction to the future when lovers die that's why you taste like coffee and you smell like pot I can't tell the difference anymore thanks a lot i'm not who you think I am yes you are


released August 8, 2012

frankie cosmos
i love my brother owen vocals by the emptiness


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Frankie Cosmos New York, New York

Booking: john@groundcontroltouring.com

UK / EUROPE: clemence@atc- live.com

US Press:

UK Press:

7 minutes in hell

"ingrid is over"

pot calling the kettle dank
... more

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