A Story Worth Repeating

from by Marc M Cogman



You had to be drunk tonight and calling me late, from your diner table, your Belgian waffles, you’re sitting alone. Because a song made you nostalgic: it’s devouring you whole. And nothing is fantastic. You tell me, “Nothing is fantastic.”

So you chalk it up to whiskey and you chalk it up to bad light. You blame it all on boredom, yeah just blame it all on Friday night. But me, I’m just an impulse-buy, like I caught your eye while you waited in line. So you gave me a try.

Because I’ll always take your phone call and I’ll always hear you whisper. If the truth be told, I’d still walk all the night-streets just to sit there, and soak up all your moonlight, every ounce that I can capture, but this feeling I’ve been missing is the one that leaves me shattered.

I wasn’t lost tonight until I picked up my phone and you opened up that door a crack, inviting me in. Because I’ve always been a sucker for going back where I’ve been. And nothing’s ever over. It seems like nothing’s ever over.

And I think about the first time, when we felt two halves of something, and I lay inside you trembling and it felt like life beginning. But now I’m just shot you take at a fragile moment to silence the ache. So you call me up.

Because you’re feeling awfully reckless and you know I’m always willing. If the truth be told, I’d still burn all the bridges I’ve been building, to taste the old sensation that I hate myself for needing, because the feeling I’ve been missing is the one that leaves me bleeding.

So I hear the pregnant pauses, and I fumble with responses, and I wish that you’d remember all the other times we’ve done this, and I want it all to matter like the songs that I’ve been singing. I want it all to seem like it’s a story worth repeating. And I bottle all the frenzy, and I focus on my breathing, and I try to shake the memories, and I dare to keep believing: your epiphany is coming, and your apathy is ending, but I’ll think about this later and I’ll know you were pretending, but I’ll come over, I’ll come over, I’ll come over, I’ll come over.


from Nothing is Fantastic, released March 21, 2017
Marc M Cogman - lead vox, electric guitar
Frogs - electric guitar, bass
Steve McDonald - electric guitar
Justin Siegel - drums
Giulio Carmassi - synth



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