Escapism Is A Dying Art

by Accept The Change

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Escapism [noun] ~ the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, especially by seeking entertainment or engaging in fantasy

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released November 5, 2011

written & performed by ACCEPT THE CHANGE
recorded and mixed by FILIP DE BOT at PENTHOUSE STUDIO
mastered by MATHEW LANE
artwork by JASPER DUFRAING
all words written & told by TOM BOSSCHAERTS
‘Inhibition’ sung by HANNE HOFMANS

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Accept The Change Belgium

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Track Name: Escapism Is A Dying Art
I am a soulsearcher, I am a restless ghost. I’m an escapist who lost his art,
Hiding a key in the back of your sleeve is just another trick grown old.
Strung up by the weight of the world. Tied down by my own bonds.
I’ve been confining myself in, firmly locked my skin, but trying ever since to break free.
That's just not working. Worn down by the drag of disappointment
Held under the shame of forfeit.
Track Name: Placebo
Young liars like me and you. I’m feeling fucked up, I'm feeling blue. Thriving on rhymes and metaphors, stealing lines out of songs I heard before. ‘Cause I feel hurt, that’s damn right sure. I’m rebreathing on a microphone to try and feel less of a mess, aching for more. There's no-one good enough to be alone. There's so much is at stake and you don’t want to make past mistakes. I’ve been in between empty bus stops on crowded streets in the meaningless masses strapped in theatre seats. All the late night dwells saying farewell could have been you but it was me. Everywhere I go I’m being told that everything will be okay. I do my best to suffice with that type of cliché placebo bullshit but I need more than ‘Godspeed, best of luck’. I need more than saying 'Que sera' fingers crossed.
Track Name: Anvers
Anvers, yes we meet again. My friends, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been the worst ‘neighbore'
But to be honest I just want to remain in bed. I slept for so long I forgot what it’s like to wake up. Modern life is taking it’s toll on me. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty days old feeling like a newborn. In a mad world filled with strangers it gets pretty fucking absurd that in a city of almost half a million you could still feel so lonesome. ‘The hermit on the upper floor’ is always shaking hands with shaking hands, pupils dilated, eyes set for the front door. What are you doing here? Endless pondering. Days spent wandering. I forgot myself on the back of a bus. My mind is flowing empty as the classrooms that I used to attend. I need a head clear. I need to step away from me. Anvers is my asylum. Don’t ask me if I’m okay ‘cause I feel like shit; and if noone likes a liar than why is sincerity still considered a sin?
Track Name: Nameless Boys
My room’s a mess. I’m coughing up cobwebs and the sheets haven’t been refreshed since you’ve been here last month. There’s bottled up waste stuffed in all four corners and I haven’t washed myself for days. ‘Mother, I’m in a worse state than my pigpen back home’. I'm overslept, underfed, a total wreck and the goddamn meds are taking too long, ‘I am inhabitable' she says but please don’t lock me away. My head’s a mess. I’m stuck in the basement dug deep in a rat’s nest while all my room-mates have moved out. I am growing insane. I’ve grown so out of touch with myself I feel uncomfortable when someone knows my name. 'You'll be okay'. I gave my wallet to the kneeling man down the street ‘cause the only thing I really need is a breath of fresh air. ‘Mother, I’m even worse than I’ve been before’ but tonight I promise I’m coming home. I'm overdosing on polluted fumes and still you give me hope. I’ve been outside, tongue-tied, too tired, wrapped in barbed wire for far too long.
I never thought that I’d ever tell you about this but I am just another fucked up kid on a drug prescription list. Here’s to all the kids with a smile on their face singing songs about suicidal days. Strike a chord if you’re feeling bored and you’ll do fine. Consider yourself lucky you have never died. you wouldn’t know what’s it like to lose your hope, to lose your mind, to lose your soul, to lose it all. Every nameless boy, every hate filled girl on the endless list. They wouldn’t know what’s it like. You have never died.
Track Name: The European Dream
Dropout dropping into the life of the ‘could’ve been's.’ You can stray for months but now it’s time to head home and cash in. That’s how the system works. No-one likes it, but just gather your best smiles and move along. But I’m not ready to face myself yet, so the factory gates are the only option left. A little routine would be good for you is what everyone kept saying so I ignored what I heard and did what I should but I should have heard the shackles rattling in shambles on conveyor belts at six the morning while they lead in the cattle. Beggars with paychecks and single moms of three feeding on expired shit in a piss factory. It’s revolting to think how much you resemble the machine you work with. You eat, shit, fuck, sleep and dream about the life that could’ve had. Raise your glasses and chant ‘we’re all fucked’, drown your worries, see a whore for affection. What’s left for us when the kids are out and we stop thinking about what's left for us? I always thought that dying of boredom was just an expression. I’ve seen enough. I'm dropping out.
Track Name: Numb
Dearest listener. I guess twenty-first century life is all about the good laughs and seeing things in perspective. Teenage hearts all over the world have always been troubled. That’s how poetry, blues, and punk got made. At five am I’m feeling comfortably numb, swaddled up with a blind date. I’m counting my scars. I see my friends doing the same. I’m writing my memoires at young age. What’s left for me? Another ghost lost in the stampede. I am an impatient boy but I wait and wait while everyone is moving and I am left to stay.
They say I’m growing roots but I feel like rotting away ‘There should be so much more’
And to think I had it almost had that in ink.
Track Name: Black Dog
I feel the rust breeding, eroding my bones. I see myself drowning, my feet etched in stone. And it’s haunting to think that my will has faltered and faded again. Have I settled for even less than I ever wanted to have? I said ‘I don’t need much’ but this was not what I meant.
I haven’t slept much for the past weeks ‘cause there’s more fog in my head than there rests over this sleeping street. Nausea and deprived senses got me questioned over everything.
I barely know what I'm doing. I see a bright light in front of me. Could this be the light at the end of the tunnel here to set me free? Blinding lights and howling horns. The black dog is out and he’s swallowing me whole. All I ever wanted was to never see these depths again. So driver, full speed ahead please, straight into hell. I am everything I never wished to be. Pessimistic, self-centred, pretentious, apathetic, isolated, alienated. devastated by loneliness, deeply depressed, highly jealous, slightly over obsessed, frustrated, fixated on hatred but the most important reason why I'm still here is that I'm so afraid of death. And oh, I’m so sorry to say. I know we’re all in the gutter but dear Oscar; I've lost all track of the stars.
Track Name: Inhibition
I opened my eyes this morning but I doubt that I’m really alive. Everything that I try to touch is out of reach. There’s a void between myself and me. And I could feel it coming closer every day but I did nothing than store all that I love with all my records on faraway shelves. I've been slowly rotting from the inside out. Depraved. Ruined. Just another debaser. I walk on bare feet so I wouldn’t always feel like I'm on my knees. That’s a trick I learned that works for me. But not today, ‘cause something is deeply wrong. The lights are out and the amps are running warm. This could be one of those days if it wasn’t for me. Play as loud as you can. I feel nothing. I died today. I am a broken man with a meaningless verse as aversive to yours as to my own words. I’m a leper without a warning bell. It’s always the ones you least expect it from. I think more about death than I think about sex. I think about suicide so often I could already be dead. So why should you bother clearing your throat when you haven’t got the blues? Bring on the napalm ‘cause this is the end my friends. I’m watching everything I know, everything I love and all that I am disintegrating right before my very own eyes. And I’ve been meaning to say it for a long time. Every generation is fucked ‘cause modern life will always be at war itself. My life is fucked so fuck you but most of all fuck me.

(Oh weathered soul shrivelled on the floor pouring out your heart with your lungs. You can curse this world all you want but don't you know that into each life some rain must fall.
Oh weathered soul; you had the blues humming you to sleep on the most of all restless nights, but where where will you when all is quiet; when everything you love has died? 'into each life some rain must fall but too much has fallen in mine'. The fire in my heart has been doused by all the sorrow I've that kept inside. Oh, you've always had the blues singing you to sleep on the most restless of all nights but where do you go now all is quiet and everything you love has died?)