I Just Want to Go Back to Hell

by You Vandal

You can put me on the record: I know it's just an act. You act so humble to my face, then not so much behind my back. You run your mouth while I run off to sing your praises. It might not be polite to call you out, but pardon me for lacking your graces. Inside voices. Mind your manners. Act right, kid. You're quite the actor. Strike my comments if you prefer. No, let's not make a scene. You've got a knack for drama. I lack the effort to pretend I take you seriously when you talk all about how you're in this for fun; “not trying to be cool or impress anyone.” You keep saying it, you do. That doesn't make it true. I'll say it again like I've said it before: you act like you're awesome behind closed doors. Will you do me a favor and let this be done? Drop the facade, 'cause you're not fooling anyone.
Collapse 03:12
I'd saw my own skull off, then rest it in your lap so you'd never have to guess where my head's at. You scoff, but let the weight roll off the shoulders and yourself be done with doubt. If you think you're not the one I think about, you're wrong. You're so dead wrong, when... all I want to do is call you my girl, and wrap my arms around you, and watch the world collapse. I howl only in vowels, 'cause I hacked right through the cord. Now the synapses won't fire anymore, and that's fine as long as I can lay eyes on you. Everything could burn and fade, but forever on my mind is where you'd stay. I hope you feel the same way, when... A, E, I, O, U, sometimes why won't you stay off my mind?
Car & Driver 02:54
Who would've guessed a car repossessed would drive a grown man to point a barrel to his chest, and then... Who would've guessed a car repossessed would drive a grown man to put a bullet through his (own) chest. I remember driving in the Blazer; heart in a race. Hurried to get to your place, not expecting that I'd never see your face; only your body wheeled out in a bag. My head: buried in my hands. Neighbors spectate from the lawn, mouths agape looking on... and I'm in the back of this '96 Chevy thinking: “It must be bad, if their jaws are such heavy lifting.” I remember driving home, taking a moment to pause. While contemplating your loss, I poured some salt in my wounds while they were still raw. So, did you go get your father's gun? The one and only son. Take it out back on the deck just for the heck of it? Sit in your favorite chair, breathe in December air, exhale, relax, and pull the trigger back? Could you see the end over a repo'd Benz?
Get High 02:58
Tell me you've got two kids now and your life is great. Well, I heard different, but that's okay. You got hooked on pills and then you fled the state. You're still insane. I guess it's true: I thought people could change, but then I met you and I lost that faith. But you're all good now, you claim. Whatever you say. You say: “I'll get high, if I want to... way off on my own, if I want to. I'll cut lines, if I want to... pop oxycodone, if I want to.” Tell me it's no big deal; it was a short-lived phase; you're all cleaned up now back on base. For your family's sake, I hope that's the case... but you're insane. I'm apathetic; you tend to jade everyone around you with your desperate plays. But you're all good now, you claim. Whatever you say. I'm apathetic; you tend to jade everyone around you with your desperate plays. And yes, it's true I thought people could change, but then I met you and you always say...
I first saw you across the room and thought: “By now, my lesson's learned.” But still I drank myself stupid enough to mutter words, and for some reason you spoke back. You must not have known that I'm a curse. Watch and observe; I'll prove you're more than I deserve, but... I'm down for whatever if you're down for the same and I'll try not to blow this while it's going my way, 'cause I know you're a shot worth taking. Steady my aim, move (way) too fast, and say I want you to stay. I let this happen. I'm rotten. Tied that noose around my neck and gently sank to the bottom of a sea of regret. Another good thing I'll ruin. I'm still not used to screwing up all that I love. One day you'll hate my guts, but until then...
I'd leave right now if you told me to; drop everything and run back to you, 'cause the bucket-seats and the hotel floors pale next to that smile of yours. You just called to say you hate me being gone. I ought to know there's a void to be found when your boy's not around, so I'm not going to hang up the phone. I'll make it home in eight hours, though the maps say twenty when they unfold. Some motives maps can't account for, like getting back to a hand to hold.
Morbid 02:38
December 14th, I could say I know my father's corpse today. It cut right through me like a knife. It felt more like the end of my own life. Now... I don't feel anything anymore. I don't feel anything right. December 15th, I'd report I felt that quick hit to the core burst through my gut and past my spine. Time doesn't heal all wounds; it just helps them find a place to hide. I know it's morbid. I know exactly how it sounds.
Sorry 03:03
Wake me up; it must be a dream. It would've blown my mind when I was seventeen that I'd go on to meet someone like you. Not so fast... Wait it out; I'll rip this all to shreds. Over nothing at all, I go and lose my head. It's so typical of me to do. I'll cut off my ear and put it in a box as a gift to you, 'cause you're a total fox. And I'm sorry I'm a jerk when we have these talks, but I regret it all as soon as our eyes lock. Now the blood-soaked rags in the trash are thrown. I take bandages to cover up the bone... but your diamond eyes look so alone and make me always regret my tone. I'll make it up, if you give me the chance. I'm not so bad... at least I don't think I am. I keep on keeping it hard to believe. Maybe you can find it in your heart to look past the fact that I'm such a massive idiot. You're still all that matters to me.
One to Talk 02:56
Have you no decency at all? The least that you could do right now is return my call. Remember when we said, “best friends from now until the end?” How quickly we forget it... How quickly we fall. You're one to talk about not being impressed. What's so impressive about being a mess? And you can bet I wasn't speaking in jest when I stressed: at very best, you're still the worst person that I've ever met. You show no courtesy. I crawl across the floor, knife in my back. You deny your fault. Stones cast from under dark. Your passive aggressive remarks are nothing more than bark. You're nothing at all. Remember when we said, “best friends from now until the end?” Replace “best friends” with “dread.” Pray you won't see my face again.
Ready to Go 02:36
Your downward gaze and sunken eyes are dead giveaways you feel dead inside. Don't be too afraind to say, “baby, let's just run away.” I'm ready to go when you're ready to go. Just say the word; we'll make a break and no return. Take yourself miles from all the hurt, or make yourself at home under the dirt. Don't be surprised when you've found yourself alive above ground. Call when you've made up your mind. I'll be your ride; drive us all night long. Stare in the rear-view mirror 'til the hell-hole lights have faded and we're gone.
Dark Spot 03:50
You never mentioned you were getting married. It might have been nice to know. It might have been nice to get an invitation to your wedding. It would have been hell of a show to watch you go from all alone to part of “man and wife.” The forecast called for rain. Today began the rest of your life, but to me it's only Saturday. Would I be such a dark spot on your brightest day? We left the past the past, but you held it against me anyway. Or maybe I'm wrong; you just long forgot me. Now all those heart-to-hearts drunk in parking lots are so meaningless and disconnected. We're meaningless. I wish you both the best, but I'm done. Enjoy your honeymoon 'cross the Atlantic. In Paris, you'll kiss the ground. In Paris, you'll kiss the love of your life in completed transit. Take in the Eiffel Tower. Paint the town red. A window opened and a door closed on the Champs-Elysees. Seven days from now, you'll come home... to me that's just a Saturday. Whether in sickness or in health, I pray you both keep well... I pray you both keep well away from me. Whether in heaven or in hell, you won't find me. I'll keep myself so far away; as far away as far away could be.
Toss out all of my things. Throw me in the hole. You might call me rash. I'd call you right. Yeah, that's just how I roll when all my wants I once longed for broke up like empties and there's just emptiness in store. A damn shame: there's no one left but me to blame. A damn shame: my penchant for disaster is still the same. I just want to go back to hell. Time got the best of me. I dozed off for a sec, then arose to realize the roof caved in. I'm left a hopeless wreck. Serves me right; I've burned these eyes bloodshot and sore, staring at patterns of shattered glass on wooden boards. I just want to go back to hell, where everyone thinks I'm smart and funny. I just want to go back to hell, where everyone is still the same.


Available on vinyl, CD, and digital formats at jumpstartrecords.bandcamp.com/album/i-just-want-to-go-back-to-hell


released November 17, 2017

Recorded at Black Bear Studios in Gainesville, FL
Engineered, mixed, and mastered by Ryan Williams
Artwork by Daniel Williams
Released on Jump Start Records


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You Vandal Gainesville

vocals, bass

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