| Marianas Trench – Alibis Lyrics | 12 years ago |
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From the scrapes and bruises (either emotional scarring or literal injuries from purging) to the familiar abuses (the constant habitual ritualistic binge and purge behaviour) I'll kick and scream But it never changes anything (no matter how hard he tries, he can't break the disorder's hold on him) I could spill my guts out (both literally puking and confessing to his problem) Wearing my best little girl pout (eating disorders are often in part attempts to return to a childlike state and body, so he's putting on the face of the innocent little girl who isn't responsible for their actions, trying to escape his guilt) I almost missed it (almost misses the way it was with his ED) But nobody said this was gonna be easy (recovery is hard, and nobody else can help him) This is not the man I hoped to be and I'm just trying to stop the bleeding (he's become someone he doesn't like while trying to find a way to blot out the pain, stopping the bleeding-outward sign of distress-by internalizing the pain and stopping it in secret) I don't know how to word it (when coming out of a bulimic haze, since you were so out of it, you often don't know what to say or how to say it, because you subconsciously rejected it for so long) I just started to deserve it (punishing himself, the more he does it the more he deserves it) and all my faces are alibis, and me (constant facade is put up, either while afflicted saying I'm healthy, or while recovering saying I'm fine, I'm better) I'm half the man I wanted to be (in body and in morality) Most times it comes out wrong (the weight and food, and his explanations) I don't know the words but I'll hum along (still doesn't know what to say or how to live but he'll just half-follow without knowing what he's doing) There's nothing familiar here anymore (life as he knows it has changed, just as the landscape of his mind has) to anyone or anything enough to feel alive (felt dead and numb and now that he's coming back, he can't connect with things anymore and he still isn't able to feel it) And I still taste that sickness (literal vomit and, most importantly, he still has those sick thoughts, still feels it, it hasn't and never will go away) and it makes me crazy without it at best (when recovering and being forced to deal with the actual issues that drove you to the disorder, you become even crazier on the outside than you were before, just because you eat normally doesn't mean it's over by half) But I'm in the same place i used to be (still in that same, self-hating, headspace, inside doesn't change even though it looks fixed from the outside-it actually feels worse with no coping mechanism left to deal with it) but i'm trying harder not to be (obvious...) So what am I (he's left without what he'd clung to for so long, doesn't know who he is without it because it defined everything about him for so long) And all my, All my faces are alibis This is not the man I hoped to be and I'm just trying to stop the bleeding I don't know how the words go I just started not to say no (he wasn't able to deny the urge to b&p, would try to resist but gave in) Don't want it, don't get it (doesn't want to be sick anymore, can't understand it either) I know you won't regret it Don't surface, don't surface, (wants the disorder to remain burried) And I feel so damn worthless Another day is gone (he keeps trying every day, and often fails and so that new beginning chance has passed him by, just like days passed him by unfulfilled while he was sick) and all my faces are alibis, and me, I'm half the man I wanted to be. |
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| Marianas Trench – Truth Or Dare Lyrics | 12 years ago |
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The thing about this album is that there are so many layers. Like an onion, but I actually like to eat this album. I've always seen the voice of this song-Carolina-as his addictions (eating disorder, drugs). It's obviously an enticement, a seducing of the listener to "follow [her] down to it". When you first start using, starving, or binging and purging, you're convinced it won't be dangerous, it'll give you what you need, and that it'll stay a secret-and you do everything you can to keep it that way. One image I found really stuck with me was one that related to bulimia. I felt like the singer was showing the listener how to make himself throw up. "One, two, three" could refer to, quite literally, shoving three fingers down one's throat. And of course, the dirty little secret would be the disorders. |
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