In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
(No)
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I was slowly changing
I would love to beat the face
Of any motherfucker that's thinkin' they can change me
White knuckles grip pushing through for the gold
If you're wantin' a piece of me, I broke the motherfuckin' mold
I'm drowning in your wake, shit rubbed in my face
Teething on concrete, gums bleeding
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I was slowly changing
I struggle in violated space
Sell out motherfuckers in the biz that try to fuck me
Hang from their Ts rated PG insight
I ain't sellin' my soul when there's nothing to buy
I'm livid in my space, pissing in my face
Fuck you while you try to fuck me
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I was
You ain't fuckin' changing me
Dig, dig, dig, dig
C'mon, motherfucker, dig
C'mon, motherfucker, dig
C'mon, motherfucker, dig
Let me help you tie the rope around your neck
Let me help to talk you the wrong way off the ledge
Let me help you hold the Glock against your head
Let me help you tie the rope around your neck
Let me help to talk you the wrong way off the ledge
Let me help you hold the Glock against your head
Let me help to chain the weights onto your legs
Get on the plank, fuck
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I was slowly changing
Wish you were committing suicide
Suckin' on a motherfuckin' tailpipe
Dead man walking on a tight rope
Limbless in the middle of a channel
Bomb's away
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I was slowly changing
I would love to beat the face
Of any motherfucker that's thinkin' they can change me
White knuckles grip pushing through for the gold
If you're wantin' a piece of me, I broke the motherfuckin' mold
I'm drowning in your wake, shit rubbed in my face
Teething on concrete, gums bleeding
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I was slowly changing
I struggle in violated space
Sell out motherfuckers in the biz that try to fuck me
Hang from their Ts rated PG insight
I ain't sellin' my soul when there's nothing to buy
I'm livid in my space, pissing in my face
Fuck you while you try to fuck me
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I was
You ain't fuckin' changing me
Dig, dig, dig, dig
C'mon, motherfucker, dig
C'mon, motherfucker, dig
C'mon, motherfucker, dig
Let me help you tie the rope around your neck
Let me help to talk you the wrong way off the ledge
Let me help you hold the Glock against your head
Let me help you tie the rope around your neck
Let me help to talk you the wrong way off the ledge
Let me help you hold the Glock against your head
Let me help to chain the weights onto your legs
Get on the plank, fuck
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig, bury me underneath
Everything that I was slowly changing
Wish you were committing suicide
Suckin' on a motherfuckin' tailpipe
Dead man walking on a tight rope
Limbless in the middle of a channel
Bomb's away
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The chorus offers a glimmer of optimism and a chance at a resolution and redemption in the future.
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No Surprises
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Blue
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I don't think they sold out at all. They sure tried like hell, but isn't one of the prerequisites to selling out, to sell something? I know literally zero people that listen to them anymore. Granted, It's not like I know millions of people or anything, but I used to know quite a few that did listen to them. So, I think I would call them "shit-outs".