Yr Throat from POST- by Jeff Rosenstock

I can’t find any way
I can’t find any way to relax
I can’t do anything
I can’t do anything of impact
I emptied out my brain
In hopes that I would have some success
Finding some clarity
But I just made a mess
What’s the point of having a voice?
What’s the point of having a voice
when it gets stuck inside your throat?

I’ll ramble incessantly
On pointless rattlings in my head
First person shooter games,
Guitar tones, ELO arrangements,
The differences in an MP3
and a vinyl record that you can hear!
But when it means something,
I always disappear.
What’s the point of having a voice?
What’s the point of having a voice
when it gets stuck inside your throat?
When it gets stuck inside your throat?
When it gets stuck inside your throat?

After the contest
I saw my neighbors
Line up the shots
and say to each other,
“There’s nothing left we can do right now.”

After the tape leaked,
I searched for answers.
Accountability.
All I discovered gave me
Fever sweats from the inside out
It made me cold from the inside out.
It’s not like any other job I know.
If you’re a piece of shit they don’t let you go.
If you’re a piece of shit they don’t let you go.
If you’re a piece of shit they don’t let you go.

• Punk
• New York