songsandscars

[songsandscars]

INTRODUCTION

My name is Tanner.

I was born on January 7th, 1988.

I began writing this book, or blog, or memoir, or whatever the term may be, in the summer of 2017. At the time, I was struggling with the worst anxiety issues I’d ever dealt with in the history of my life living with anxiety. I was carrying around so much heartache, regret, shame, anger, frustration, spite, pain - any negative emotion you can think of - while trying to love, and care, and create, and bond. It wasn’t working.

It was like trying to pull a tire out the mud with a rope. The further you pull it, them more mud accumulated in front of the path of this tire. Instead of changing direction, I kept pull this weight in a straight line, and for lack of a better term, the shit just kept piling on. So what do you do in that situation? You pull harder. You hunker down, and jerk the rope with force and violence to somehow power through... to continue on the same path... which was the error in my thinking for nearly a decade.

I guess I just felt as though it was time to unload the burdens I’d been carrying for long time. To change directions. To embrace my past and finally learn from it. Look back on lessons learned, instead of expecting the past to show up in my future all the time - the root of my anxiety problems.

For years, I’ve listened to my favorite bands and musical artists, dissecting their words and trying to understand the meanings behind their songs. I could take their words and melodies and interpret them in ways I could relate to. It always fascinated me to learn the true, deep, emotional story or moral or spiritual meaning behind those songs I loved. A lot of the time, these songs I’d listen to were interpreted through a lens of my own life to make sense of things. I was comforted by the idea that someone I looked up to had lived through similar experiences as me - or so I interpreted it. 

When I started this project, that was my goal; to tell the stories behind the songs I’d written over the past decade for whatever audience I entertain. I figured there are like-minded people in the world who enjoy an inside scoop. Why not collect all my old lyric sheets and tell the story behind each song? While I’m not busy with shows, I figured this would be a fun way to keep myself busy and possibly get the creative juices flowing again. What I didn’t realize when I started this endeavor was just how screwed up I had been in the past - mentally, emotionally, spiritually and even physically.

In August of 2017, I had felt as though I’d reached a point in my life where I was pretty alright mentally and emotionally. Things were looking up, despite my inner struggles with anxiety and depression. Externally, I felt happy, had some good friends, and even had somewhat of a lover if I can call it that. I’d gone on tour for the first time with Rest, Repose, and was stoked on life.

I started gathering all my old notebooks together; everything from composition books, to steno pads, to just loose leaf papers I’d shoved in folders, books, and boxes. I scoured old hard drives from dead computers, and listened through old demos. Anything and everything I could find, I retyped them into this collection of works.

I began reviewing all these old songs; these old words I had written down between the ages of 18 and 28. I had spent years singing and screaming these words at anyone who would listen to them, but I don’t think I ever truly understood what any of them meant in the times I wrote them.

The emotional and psychological impact revisiting these old songs has been staggering. As I reviewed these old songs I’d written, I began to relive the experiences that led to their inception. I was thrown back into the heartbreak, death, addiction, betrayal, and self-harming thoughts again. For the first time in years, I began to truly process some of the things that had weighted me down for over a decade. I was still pulling that tire through the mud. 

I never truly dealt with these problems back then, and so, this project became a form of mental and emotional therapy; a purge. And yes, there were some emotionally violent moments in that. 

Healing is not gentle. I experienced all the anger and resentment I’ve kept bottled up inside for years all over again. I relived the grief, pain and mourning for friends who had passed on so suddenly. I faced the sorrow and betrayals I experienced in some of the worst heartbreaks of my life. And all this time, I was oblivious to the fact I’d spent my entire musical career spilling my guts on stage. I sang the words, but had forgotten, or more accurately repressed the tales and meanings behind each verse and chorus. The words came out of my mouth, but the experiences were still shoved down in the deepest caverns of my heart and mind.

This project became a means of revelation and growth. I was able to expel much of the negative energy I’d collected over the years. Many tears were shed revisiting these times in my life to write these stories. I’ve banged my fists against my desk in frustration, dug up old photos of loved ones and finally found the strength to forgive and let go of so much animosity I’d harbored toward people who hurt me; people I let hurt me. I recognized the way I’d hurt people as well in my own selfish needs. I acknowledged and faced my own character flaws, shortcomings, fears, and self-destructive tendencies. But most importantly, I think I took for first step toward healing. One small, scary, convulsing step at a time.

If you’re reading this, please keep in mind that these stories are a reflection of a person I used to be. Some remnants still remain; mainly the guilt and regret of my actions as a younger self. I’m learning to embrace that, take the lessons I’d learned in those times, and better myself going forward. 

It’s… a process.

Whoever you think I am, whatever you think I am, I hope you can read this and not judge too harshly. These stories are through my eyes, which means they’re from a perspective that may paint myself into a corner of playing the victim and the martyr. And maybe you’ll identify with these experiences and these tendencies. Who knows. Either way, I hope you gain what I have in reading other people’s stories.

With that said, feel free to read on…

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout #Songs and ScarsTanner CowensLyricsPoemsStoriesRest ReposeFallen TheoryThe Rise The FallDryseasonAtherstoneDare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

DARE BY TAKEOUT

Dare by Takeout at the VFW Hall in Roseburg, OR 2006

A Brief History

It was fall of 2005 or so. My senior year at North Valley High School in Grants Pass, OR had just begun. I was doing the usual — running cross country, taking my AP classes, and trying to decide what college I wanted to go to.

I had spent some time that summer playing open mics wherever I could. Being a minor in that town and finding things to do was often difficult without falling into a little bit of trouble. There weren’t a ton of programs for our developing youth. Luckily, this little place downtown called The Green Room had recently opened, and I was able to get my feet wet performing in front of people. The Green Room was a local hang out for the thespian community and performing artists. Thursday nights, they would host open mics.

I would often go there and play covers; simple songs by artists like Nirvana, Seether, and Staind etc. It got to a point where I was getting a fair amount of recognition and even got my own little 30 minute set booked as a special performance. Many of the patrons encouraged me to go out and audition for musical theater.

Reluctant to ever get involved in performance art, I declined over and over. That kind of stage was just something I was never interested in. With enough curiosity, peer pressure and an open audition at my high school that year, I was presented an opportunity to try out for a program called Free Design.

Free Design was a singing and dancing musical performance our school put on every year. They would reinvent popular songs and weave them into some kind of story line. I figured, “What the hell? What have I got to lose? The worst that can happen is I don’t get a part.” So, I auditioned. I showed up with my acoustic guitar, ready to play one of my covers. There were 5 judges at the table. As I pulled my guitar out of my gig bag, they stopped me and informed me they wanted to hear me sing acapella. I had never sung in front of people without some kind of musical accompaniment.

With a shaky voice, I began singing Aaron Lewis’s part from Linkin Park’s “Crwlng” from the “Reanimation” album. I was nervous, and it came out in the way I delivered that song.

The next day, results were posted on who made the cut and who didn’t. I didn’t make it. Instead of being discouraged, I felt the need to prove myself. I began writing my own songs, and performing at The Green Room as much as I possibly could. I compiled quite a few sets of lyrics, but I was a hack of a guitar player. I decided I was going to start a band and pursue primarily being a vocalist and lyricist.

My girlfriend at the time, whom I’d met at The Green Room, introduced me to Josh Oliveri. We began practicing Coheed and Cambria songs in my parents’ shed in the back yard through tiny little practice amps. We were terrible, but we were trying, and it was fun.

After gym class with my classmate, Jerry Stewart, we began discussing the music we like and I’d mentioned how much I’d love to be in a real band someday. He told me that him and two friends, Cody Prose and Daniel Begley, had been jamming and actively writing songs. They called themselves “Dare by Takeout” — a name derived from a fortune cookie that read “Dare to dream, dare to succeed”. They needed a vocalist and a bassist. I auditioned and made the cut by default of being literally the only person interested in joining their band, and later on introduced them to Josh, who joined in playing bass. 

And thus, Dare by Takeout was born.

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“Free”

Dare by Takeout at The Trove, 2006

A slow song in feeling, “Free” was one of the absolute earliest DBT songs we’d written. It had this cool floating melody, despite its absolute simplicity, and gave me a great canvas to do something really unique.

Except… I didn’t…

Being a fairly inexperienced writer, I followed the guitar melodies verbatim and produced a pretty huge musical and lyrical turd over the top of what would have probably been a beautiful piece of music. I completely botched it.

Since I was pretty young, I’d always been the kid dreaming of true love, being married, having someone to build a life with, the house on the hill, the picket fence, and a kid or two. Looking back at that expectation I had in life so early on, it’s not wonder every failed relationship from this point forward took such a massive toll on me later in life.

The concept of the song came from a dream I’d had about having a child with my high school sweetheart. Not that the lyrics are shrouded in metaphor by any means, but in case it’s difficult to understand, the song starts out on a picnic blanket, sharing some wine. I lean over to kiss my lover in a field. Cue the romantic sunset; scene fades to black, classic montage style.

Visions of a newborn child came forth in the next sequence of that dream. If I were ever to have a child, I wished for it to be a daughter and I got to meet her in this dream.

None of this was real of course. It was all a figment of my imagination. It all felt like a distant memory; an alternate life I had lived in the past or a parallel timeline. And slowly that “memory” faded away, and real life became ever more present.

This was my way or retaining the memory of that dream, or other life, or whatever it was - a hope for the future derived from a life I would never have.

“Free”

Distant memory pounding through me

Fading into darkness

Your kiss changed my world

A lifetime will soon unfurl

Our child changed my world

When born of you a little girl

My hand in yours; your hand in mine

Taking sips of brandy wine

I’m with you; you’re with me

Thank you for setting me free

“Free” at the first ever Dare by Takeout show: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gY7aFuh-xBk (Spoiler alert: we sucked)

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“Blood Red Lies”

Dare by Takeout jam session at Cody’s (right) house, 2006

Again, following the melody of the guitars like the newb I was, I wrote my second absolute disaster of a song. Not only were my rhyme and meter complete garbage, but the subject matter was quite pretentious, self-righteous, and well… just totally lame.

Blood Red Lies somehow, I think, revolved around the anger I felt toward the way people treated me in school. Both my folks were teachers, and my dad in particular actually held his students accountable and expected people to pay attention, turn their homework in, and not disrupt class. Apparently people thought that was him being “strict” or “mean” when really, that was just proper etiquette in the classroom. Well, his students carried a chip on their shoulder from spending a lot of time in detention for acting like ass hats in his class and my dad not putting up with their bullshit. And years later, I had to deal with their animosity toward him directed at me. So naturally, that got frustrating.

This song was some kind of puffed up verbal threat I guess. Essentially, I’m saying “my problems are worse than yours, you don’t know me, and if you treat me badly, I’ll kick your ass”, or something to that effect… poorly communicated.

The first verse of this song describes some sort of fight or flight response while comparing issues with some other party. The chorus touches on the lies people tell themselves to justify their actions, make excuses for their behavior, and what I think about those people at the end of the day. At least, that’s what I can gather from it now.

I then go on some tangent about being frustrated, and how I’m going to tear people down for being mean.

Yes, really…

I still don’t actually know what phrase “blood red lies” even means to this day. It must have been something I thought sounded seriously cool at the time.

“After all, it was you who murdered me.” Whoa there! BIG twist at the end, eh?

I guess conceptually it’s about being a ghost haunting high school bullies or something. Or maybe it’s describing the death of self-love, or inner peace, or self esteem I felt on a regular basis with people tearing me down all the time.

“Blood Red Lies”

One chance to fight back or run away

One life to take away from me

One chance I have more to see your eyes 

Your hand slips away

You think your life is full of misery

Take ten steps back and look at me

You took the life away from she

Can’t you hear me?

Blood red lies rule your mind

I can see you through the knife

Close your eyes so you can hide

I still see you in the night

Blood red lies rule your mind

You can’t run away

Close your eyes

You can’t hide

You can’t run away

You can’t lie to me

You will die someday

My hands were built to feed your demise

Tear them through and pluck out both your eyes

This shit is starting to weigh on me

Can’t you hear me?

For far too long you have stepped on me

Too bad I’ll live in infamy

I’m tired of all this stupid shit

Death is chomping at the bit

You can’t run from me

Closing your eyes won’t help you to believe

Open your mouth and try to scream

After all, it was you who murdered me

“Blood Red Lies” at first DBT show: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4zgnONeys4

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“Creep”

First ever Dare by Takeout show, The Trove, Grants Pass, OR 2006

I had finally written a song with some substance. The third song for DBT, “Creep” is based on a story from a girl I’d met at The Green Room. After making a bunch of visits to The Green Room and seeing her around school, we began to talk a bit. She was always kind of shy. One day she told me she had been sexually assaulted and abused by a family friend who lived in her house when she was 12. Her name was Allie.

She described a horrifying memory of this family friend slinking into her room, crawling across the floor to sneak up and molest her while she slept. She’d wake up startled at the feelings of hands on her body on a regular basis. The man quickly covered her mouth, snuffing out any opportunity to scream and alert her family. This continued on for years of her life.

The most disturbing detail of Allie’s story was the night noticed her own father standing in the doorway of her room. He did nothing to intervene. When I asked her why her father never stepped in to save her, she added that there were times he joined in and held her down. 

For years, Allie was never sure if what happened to her was even real. She suffered from extreme anxiety, nightmares, and emotional outbursts; symptoms I believe were due to post-traumatic stress. She described all of these events to me as a recurring nightmare, but it was clear she had been psychologically and emotionally damaged from the things that had happened to her. She must have blocked out the trauma from her mind, ignoring the impact it had on her emotional well-being.

Allie died in 2008 by means of suicide.

“Creep”

Take a breath

Close your eyes so nothing seeps inside

Death

A black widow climbs up your spine

Sense it burn and course through all your veins

The feelings fade

Wipe away the tears from your cheek 

Such a bad dream

Don’t let him creep

Don’t dare to scream

Squeeze your eyes shut

Tighter than a blink filled with tears

Carnage lusting, love-filled, dead slut

Feel it burn inside your chest

Pull the blanket toward your stare

See the shadow lurk

Pull the pillow over your ears

Swallow all your fears

Don’t let him creep

Don’t dare to scream

Creeping through your flesh he’s crawling

Deep through her sheets, Allie’s crying

Through the shadows, daddy’s watching

Behind her eyelids, dreams are stirring

Seeping through your veins it’s burning

Nightmares met with violent turning

Sweat drips from her brow in this fear

The creaking floorboards tell you he’s here

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“What’s It Like?”

Jerry Stewart (left) and Cody Prose (right) in the jam room, 2006

Back to absolute song writing suckage…

For some reason, a lot of the early DBT material took the shape of vampire, ghost, and undead lore. I’m not really sure why, but I suppose I can credit it to an attempt to write creatively or write within metaphor instead of so literally.

In “What’s It Like”, we get a half-baked amalgamation of teenage angst, combined with limited vocabulary by using words such as “whore”, “bitch” and “bastard”. There are more nods to being betrayed, mentions of smelly blood, or perhaps it was a layman term for the stench of death, and of course,  another reference to me having been recently murdered... for some reason.

In all honesty, the delivery of this song was not the worst I’d ever done at this point in time. It was still a lyrical hunk of shit, but I was still young and learning to write music. I suppose you learn by making mistakes, and these early songs certainly taught me some lessons.

I don’t remember what event specifically inspired this song, but it’s a clear reflection with the way my anger felt toward poisonous people. “You die and no one cries” is probably a “good riddance” type of attitude I had toward these people I was so angry with. 

This song takes an extremely self-righteous stance as I completely disregard how others probably struggle, fight their own demons and have no way to deal with their own problems except by lashing out at others. On top of that, I also can see now what a jealous and judgmental person I was in my youth. 

“What’s It Like?”

You’re turning my eyes red

Into the beast I used to be

The claws I thought forgotten

They grow deep inside of me

Your blood reeks of poison

Like a whore, or bitch, or bastard

Take away my weapons

Stay away from me, don’t dare to touch me

You die and no one cries

What’s it like to walk in my shoes now?

You die and no one cries

What’s it like to see through my eyes now?

You’re testing all my nerves again

Pressing buttons all forbidden

The lives you take for granted

No more; I believed in you

Your lips taste of lust again

Sneaking out your window late at night

Tell me what his name is

Never will he see the day or light

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“Caged”

Atherstone at the Trove, 2006

This song makes me sick to my stomach, to the point I nearly omitted it from this book. It’s just...shameful.

Apparently I was not done writing really shitty songs yet. Melodically, the song was much more advanced than my previous attempts with DBT songs, but clearly love songs weren’t my forte. More specifically, songs about wanting to make love to my then-girlfriend who was 18 and a virgin are definitely not my forte.

I thought I’d try to be romantic and write this love/lust song for my high school sweetheart. Naturally, in classic Tanner fashion, I wrote down some kind of verbal diarrhea that nobody in their right mind would ever say to someone else face to face. We were both consenting adults (well, actually I was 17, but whatever) who “loved” each other, who were insanely horny, but also very subscribed to the idea of abstinence due to our shared religious beliefs. We’d been through some rough patches involving her and another old romantic interest, and I’d had my doubts about our future.

One day, I guess I decided to let the past die, and in doing so, felt we could take our relationship to the “next level”. We always seemed to make a decent effort to right any wrongs against each other, to let those feelings of betrayal and distrust go, and move forward to the next step of our relationship…and bang.

Spoiler alert: This song definitely did NOT bring her any closer to sleeping with me. If anything, it was a huge turn-off. This song actually creeps me out and makes me sick that I used to think this was in any way, shape or form, socially acceptable at all.

“Caged”

Come closer, just a litter further

Make not a noise

We can finally trust each other 

Where have you been all my life?

Pleasure takes our bodies on

Our hands entwined as one

I love you; I lust you; I’ve found you

Just wait and see

Loan your body out to me

Strip it bare for my eyes alone

Claim my heart and walk on tall

There’s time for us to do it all

As I writhe on my knees

And I’m begging for you, please I need you

There’s time for both of us to show

How we can send our pasts below

Spread your wings

Show the world to me

It’s not right at all

To keep your heart so caged from me

Show me the depths of your heart

Forget the past

We’ve got a chance to start again

As we join, we share our warmth

And sleep in peace again

Those eyes tell a story of sorrow

My tears have soaked this book I wrote

Of our time apart and done

But you were supposed to be the one

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“The Only Way”

Atherstone at the Trove, 2006. Josh Oliveri (left) and Cody Prose (right)

If you put Gunther, (the “Oh, You Touch My Tra-la-la” guy), Bruce Dickenson from Iron Maiden, and Anne Rice in a room to write a song, this would probably be exactly that.

It’s not the worst written thing ever lyrically. In fact looking back on it, and ignoring the delivery of these words, it actually wasn’t half bad for the time. Melodically it was garbage as I'd fallen into the rookie habit of singing right along side with the guitar melodies again.

Essentially it’s a story about a vampire, or some kind of sanguine being that can’t be with the love of his life because she rejected the offer to become immortal with him. He realizes the only way to regain is mortality to win his love back is to spend his life finding a way to travel back in time and undo the choice that ultimately took away his chance at a normal life.

“The Only Way”

Waging war against the night of blood and pain 

Fighting back the demons that took over me

Beat away the bloodstains; wash them from my hands

Avoid the stare of sunlight; leave my spirit damned

To drink from life is the only way

And preserve this lie as I hide away

To take their life is the only way

To live this lie as she walks away

Deep through the night, you’re running away

Trying to escape your misfortunes

Creep through the night and hide away

Trying to deny these emotions

Sucking the life from children as their mothers pray

The one I loved so dearly; she now runs away

Why could you not join me?

Did you not want to fly?

We could be immortal

And never leave this life

To turn back time is the only way

To repossess what I’d thrown away

To turn back time is my only way

To spare myself this affliction of day

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“The Battle Eternal” (Flypaper)

This song was co-written with Josh Oliveri, original bassist of DBT, and now current front man of Call Us Forgotten. Josh had this cool idea to do some kind of war-themed song; essentially a scene of a violent battle in vivid detail. With a little bit of Josh’s creative direction, this was the turning point where my writing kind of took a more mature direction for DBT.

With the war theme in mind, I made some contributions by relating it to domestic violence and resolution, particularly toward the end of the song. In a way, the song kind of nods at fighting for what you believe in till the end, standing up for what you believe in, and sacrifices necessary to win your daily battles. There is also a reference to domestic disputes and how those can really feel like a war at times. 

This is a hard one to pick through, as I wasn’t the main writer in this song, and Josh’s original content could be taken metaphorically or literally.

“The Battle Eternal” (Flypaper)

Are you listening?

My screams are piercing through this hell

I’ve fought through tears and fire

And I’ve lead the kill

The ashes rain down from the sky

Tears fall, dreams fade

Fighting internal battles

The bodies drop as bullets fly

Wings burn

Bridges fall

No one is innocent

Destroy and conquer all

We win the battles, but not the war 

Behind me again

What are we fighting for?

Conflict continues

Blood and sweat run into both my eyes

Just follow protocol

Believe the orders and trust in lies

Sprinting through the haze Stumble

Catch your breath

Start this vicious cycle again

A gunshot rings out from the corner of the room

He’s bleeding on the ground

She screams his name in hate

Fires another thirty rounds

Lungs collapsing in his chest

He attempts to take a final stand

He pulls the knife from his belt

Places it in his left hand

Make your final stand

With your left hand

Live at Hidden Valley High School cir. 2007: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dpEaKdKMe84

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“From Butterflies to Butcher Knives”

Oddly enough, in Dare by Takeout, we all kind of regarded this song as our “masterpiece” for a time. It was definitely the most progressive song we’d written to date and a bit of a reflection on a life experience that I never wanted to ever have to deal with — being cheated on for the very first time.

My then-girlfriend visited an old flame at her work after hours and they wound up making out in the parking lot. When you’re 18 and this is your first long-term relationship, the feeling is pretty devastating. The way I found out was somewhat self-inflicted, but also really relevant to this day and age with how social media has weaved its way into our friendships and relationships.

It was the era of MySpace and she’d left her messages open. I had bumped her computer, which woke the screen, revealing a long conversation between her and some guy named Heath. The conversation recapped a night including their little make out session. They went back and forth, presenting different scenarios in which they could continue seeing each other, why it felt right, but she had been struggling with the guilt of doing that while being with me. Then they expressed how they felt about each other, and the best way to be rid of me. I was shocked.

“Tearing through the pages written by a twisted author” stems from scrolling through the messages on her open MySpace account and how clearly confused she was by everything that had been happening.

For a while, I continued in the relationship as though nothing had happened, hoping either the problem of this other man would dissipate or she’d come forward and tell me what had happened on her own. On the outside, I treated her the same as I always had — with love, and care, and understanding. On the inside, I was devastated, unsure, paranoid and suspicious. In the back of my mind I was always wondering if their relationship was continuing on behind my back. After all, they did work late nights at the theater together quite often and we lived apart. I wanted to hurt him. Heath was several years older than her, and had a reputation for sleeping with the younger women he worked along side with. I “knew” he was doing the same to her, and it made me furious. She continued to hide whatever transpired that night for weeks until I couldn’t avoid the topic anymore.

When I finally told her what I had seen online, she told me over and over how I deserved better. She suggested she needed to be alone for a while, and that I should live my life without her and find someone who could reciprocate the feelings and effort I’d put towards our relationship.

I disagree with the phrase “love is blind”. In fact, I think love is very eye opening. We make the choice to love, or we don’t. I set my ego aside and did everything I could to hang onto that relationship, forgiving her for whatever had happened as she promised to be true to me from that point forward. We hit quite the rough patch, and in that period of time, this song was written.

The title of this song comes from a Weerd Science (Josh Eppard of Coheed and Cambria’s rap project) song called “Blueprint” from the record “Friends and Nervous Breakdowns”. A spoken word section in the song rings out “…and when the butterflies turn into butcher knives…” which perfectly described the feeling I had at the time.

“From Butterflies to Butcher Knives”

Silky satin sheets cover both our bodies

The sharing of our heat keeps us alive

Your chest rises and falls with every little breath

Of the love I poured into you

Tearing through the pages written by a twisted author

Choose your own adventure

Writing in your diary all the things you would not tell me

What is it that you have to hide?

What do you have to hide?

What is it you won’t tell me?

Please

Your hand is cold and icy

I’m not the one who held it last

Am I?

Burning with the fuel vested by your actions 

And finding truth for myself

In his arms he held you accountable for heartbreak

Does he warm your heart like you did mine?

You were supposed to be the one

Deceit spilled from your lips

The lips I kissed with heart and soul

The lies rolled off your tongue

How could you turn your back on everything you said you loved?

And I want to take you back

But you claim you’re not enough

What did he do to change you?

Look into my eyes and choke upon the phrase

That you’re better off alone

Better off alone?

Take a peek inside your heart and tell me

Was he worth it?

He’s better off dead

Better off dead

How could you honestly believe this wouldn’t hurt us?

When you balance both your sides

That’s when you’ll regain my trust

What can I say to take your breath away?

Now do you see my eyes?

As I return to haunt you

But I hold no bleeding heart

I’ve come to say I love you

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

ATHERSTONE

A Brief History

It was Sunday, May 14th, the morning after Prom 2006, and Mother’s Day. My friend Levi called me on the phone crying hysterically.

“Woody is dead, man. He’s fucking dead. He’s dead. He died. I can’t believe this.”

Christopher Underwood, a close friend, classmate, gym partner, music enthusiast, and regular at local shows had died in the middle of the night after crashing his car near his home. 

He had taken allergy medication, along with other prescription drugs that caused severe side effects. He lost consciousness and collided with his cousin’s fence while driving his date, Laurel, home after the dance. They both walked away from the crash itself unharmed for the most part. His family arrived to pick him, and Laurel’s picked her up as well far as I know. Chris went home and passed out in bed. 

The next morning, his body was discovered by a foreign exchange student his family had been housing, Manuel. The combination of drugs in his system, coupled with possible trauma of the crash, had caused his brain to shut down in his sleep.

I lived about a mile from Woody’s house. In disbelief and shock, I ran out to my car and sped over to his home. The front door was open, his family inside crying. His brother, Erik, and Manuel sat on the couch, clutching pillows and sobbing silently into their fabric. His father, Barry, hovered in the hallways, glancing at family photos mounted on the walls, not even attempting to fight back the tears welling up in his eyes as 18 years of memory replayed over and over in his hanging head. I walked through the living room and down the hall and into Chris’s bedroom. Woody was lying there, in bed on his stomach, head sideways on his pillow. He just appeared to be sleeping - mouth closed, eyes shut. He looked peaceful. His little chihuahua was lying across his legs as though nothing was wrong. It arched it’s head up to look as me as I entered the room. His mother, Carmen, was sitting beside him crying, petting his head. I half expected Woody to open his eyes and laugh as though he’d fooled everyone and caused a big stir. But he didn’t.

Friends and classmates began to arrive, tears in their eyes, shaking as they slowly trickled into the house and Woody’s room. We all did the best we could to hold it together, even attempting to inject humor into the tragedy by saying we’d kill him if he’s actually live. My friends Chayse, Matt, Levi, a few others and myself gathered around in the driveway as the coroners asked us to step out of the house. The feeling of loss and grief became absolutely crushing the moment Woody was carted out in a body bag. That’s when it set in. That’s when it became real.

The following weeks at school, everyone seemed united. No one bullied each other. People were kind to one another. People were patient with one another. Enemies resolved their conflicts through understanding and communication. Outcasts were welcomed with open arms. There was peace. Woody had touched the lives of every person in that place. His death was a reminder of how small and petty teenage drama was, and how quickly life can end. And for once, for a short time, everyone practiced humility and empathy as though each day were their last.

Dare by Takeout wanted to honor Woody in some way. We played a fund raiser show for him, and performed “Helena” by My Chemical Romance (Woody’s favorite band) with our friends in Black Thursday. People swore they caught glimpses of Woody between the flashing strobes and stage lights within the crowd. We all missed him.

We thought about playing covers of Woody’s favorite bands and changing our name to Underwood, but it was just a bit too on the nose and felt as though we were monopolizing on Woody’s death. It wasn’t until Josh’s girlfriend, Rachel, came to us with some information about Chris’s past. She had decided to trace Chris’s Underwood heritage and lineage back to its place of origin. As far back as she could uncover, his line of the Underwood family stemmed from Atherstone, England.

The decision was easy. The answer was obvious. And it was time to give Dare by Takeout a new name. From that point on, we were known as Atherstone.

Over the course the following year, Josh moved to Portland, so we acquired bassist Chava Barahona from Black Thursday, and eventually Scott Gissel, also of Black Thursday who filled the role of founding member Cody Prose on guitar.

Atherstone made one record (twice), and continued to operate for about 4 years. An obituary for Woody written by an anonymous person:http://www.mydeathspace.com/article/2008/09/07/Christopher_Underwood_(18)_died_from_an_overdose_of_methadone_on_Mother_s_Day

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“Eye for an Eye”

Atherstone at Hidden Valley High School, 2006

After Woody’s death, there was a period of unity. But like all things, it was temporary. Feelings of love and care and compassion seemed to be fleeting after a couple of months. People slowly began to find their way back to their selfish ways, cruel treatment of other, self-righteousness, bullying, and prided themselves on their social statuses.

I was frustrated. People seemed to play the old game of “he was my friend more than he was your friend” and it killed me. Everyone Chris had come in contact with, he’d made his own unique impact on. And while people were kind for a bit, that utopian society seemed to crumble. I compared this to the fall of Rome in this song.

While my initial reaction was to be passive, I was encouraged by others to stand my ground and defend my own position. This song is taken from the perspective of a version of me, ready to release this inner beast as my anger boiled inside my head.

In the line “this family curse, this lineage” I’m referring to the stereotype of the fiery redhead anger. “I see when I bleed, without you there is no me” states we are one in the same when we act alike. I was ready to retaliate against the people, who once were united by the tragedy of Woody’s passing, for falling back into their old ways - Ironically, that would have made me a product of the very behavior I was upset about in the first place.

“Eye for an Eye”

The towers of Rome lay at my feet

In this dream I find myself bleeding alone

I feel the wind roll through my hands

I feel the sweat fall down my chin

The sand burning at my feet 

Your knife in my back

I fall down to my knees and look up toward the sky

The sunlight burns my eyes and I go blind

I feel a hand placed on my wrist to guide me through the dark

Until my eyelids lift and expose this monster inside

My heart, this soul, this blood and flesh

This body and all

This family curse, this lineage, rising up in me

To put your knife where it belongs

I spread my wings, sprout my claws, bare by fangs

A part of this beast within, this subtle voice

Rising up in me

To put that knife where it belongs

I see when I bleed

Without you there is no me

https://soundcloud.com/tanner-cowens-892278815/eye-for-an-eye

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“Lenor”

Cody came over one day to my then-girlfriend’s apartment with his acoustic guitar. In prior band meetings and discussing the writing of a record, we wanted to write a slow song. At the time, Atherstone had become a bit of a post-hardcore type band, similar to Norma Jean with melodic elements of bands like early Thrice. Cody had written this simple chord progression and melody with a cool melancholy feel. We did what any band would do, and drank whatever liquor was sitting around the apartment and wrote a song.

I had recently been reading a lot of Edgar Allen Poe, and had just finished reading his poem “The Raven”. The line “Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!” inspired me to write a song about a dying lover.

The song took shape and evolved as Cody and I continued to refine it, or maybe the more drunk we got, the better is sounded to us. It eventually became an electric song in studio with a big hero riff or lead toward the end. But the message in the song remained.

I reflected back on how it felt to be left alone; to actively try and rid myself of poisonous thoughts and grief for lovers that had broken my spirits earlier on in life. I could barely look at myself in the mirror some days. I imagined a world where I’d painted over my windows and covered them in material to live in complete isolation and devoid of light or warmth. I’d drug dull blades across my wrist; knives with the roughness of railroad spikes that only threatened to drain me by kissing my veins, never breaking skin. I slept beside an indent in bed where my love had once slept. 

This was the world I’d created in my head for this song.

In the second act of this song, I speak in metaphor. “My love died in her sleep” is not meant literally. It meant that the love between myself and another has seemingly faded away overnight. That this love someone once held for me suddenly disappeared; died. I wanted it to feel as though I was mourning the death of love itself. Love had died, and I was alone, living alone, afraid to step into the world again, and it was my fault.

“Lenor”

The dead sun will rise to open up my eyes

I thought I’d forced these demons out

That plague and haunt my mind

I’m the poet and the liar

I’ll never be the mirror, I tried

I hate this world I live in

But I loathe this world I write

If I could tear the curtains from the backbone of my home

These blackened painted window panes would leave me here alone

The railroad tracks that graced my wrist

The train cars soaked in tears

The letters all addressed to her 

Have not been sent in years

The pillow creased with the valley that her head once laid

My love died in her sleep

Oh why didn’t I cry?

It was me

That left you out in the cold

That fell apart and left you alone

All the words that I couldn’t write

Will haunt me in one more sleepless night

I with that I could turn this around

And take your love back from the ground

If I had the perfect sentence to bleed

It wouldn’t bring you back now

I can’t bear to see you walk away again 

Is this really how we will end

My last wish is to hold you tight 

Love, I’m not coming home tonight

https://soundcloud.com/tanner-cowens-892278815/lenor

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“The Thirst”

Cue in the extremely lonely phase of post-breakup depression that happened to take my creative writing to a whole new level.

Go ahead and scroll down to give these lyrics a quick read and come back.

So, you just read yet another story about some vampire, right? It’s a story of a lonely vampire struggling with his curse, feeding off the innocent, or perhaps a particular individual, struggling with the pain of taking life, and feeling guilty for enjoying it, right?

Wrong!

I encourage you to go and read it again, bearing in a mind one hell of a metaphor. Allow me to break it down:

It burns inside my mouth, because it’s liquor. Liquor is warming, even when it’s cold. Her hand is the neck of the liquor bottle. Her heart beat is swishing back and forth of the liquor in the bottle as I drink it; the fading heartbeat is how the swishing quiets down the more I drank. The bloodshot eyes are a result of being heavily intoxicated. The nectar of her veins again is a reference to the alcohol, and if I would be able to function sober and keep my feelings at bay.

There are undertones that question my own worth at times. I felt as though I didn’t have a heart as I drank my feelings away and discarded any shred of emotion I had left.

The breakdown in this song is moment where I began questioning the way my life was going. I was full-blown alcoholic at 19 years old.

I got hammered one last time, screaming and crying in frustration, in and out of panic attacks as I examined where my life seemed to be heading, and drove as far as I could. I just wanted to escape the environment I’d been flailing in all summer.

 When I woke up the next day, I found myself in a corn field out near Kirby, OR. Anyone familiar with the area knows of the infamous “Sweet Cron” signs posted everywhere out there. I must have parked on the side of the road, and wandered off out somewhere out in the corn fields where I collapsed and passed out. I don’t totally recall how I got there, even still. When I awoke, I was covered in dirt, bugs, and water from the sprayers - liquid manure. Needless to say, that was quite a rude awakening.

I began realizing what I had done, the lives I may have endangered along the way, I had my very first slightly drunk still, definitely hung over, full on anxiety attack. The walls felt like they were closing in on me. I was suffocating inside myself, imploding. This was the first time my anxiety truly manifested itself.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the end of my alcoholism. I later went home to get tanked yet again, trying to forget the mistake I had made, dull my senses, calm my nerves and somehow force my anxiety into remission. 

The song concludes quite open ended, succumbing to my own addiction, happy to be numb again.

That’s the real story of “The Thirst”.

“The Thirst”

Loneliness tears me from the groin to the chin

I clutch my sides in hopes to contain myself inside

I feel it burn inside my mouth as it hits my lips

I feel so warm, she feels so cold

I grasp her hand as her head falls back

I press my lips against her flesh

My kiss sinks in

I feel her heart beat through her breast; it slowly fades inside

I feel a pain inside my own; I’ve done it again

What do I do now?

Do I bow down to my thirst

Or do I make the choice I’ve harbored inside of this heart

Is this a heart?

One alone that beats not my blood

Are emotions now

diminishing?

Are they completely void?

I stare through bloodshot eyes at what could be a life

Without her, would I be the same?

Would I taste the nectar of her veins?

Could I give it all back to a god who left me damned

Without the wings that lifted me up

Could I ever return to a mortal life?

I’d give it all; I’d give back life

I’d take my mortal heart to the grave

If she would share my lust for life

Would I find a way to feel alive?

Break through the bars of my addiction

Would I need exoneration?

Could I face a face with no reflection inside or out

What have I become?

I feel a cold wash over me

Withdrawals from my dear drug

I writhe on the floor until I taste it

Sunlight burns my eyes

I can’t face the day knowing what I did last night

I know, yet can’t remember the act

Why does my heart flutter so?

What’s wrong with me?

Why can’t I stop it?

What is this hunger in my nature?

Why can’t I shake it off?

I cramp inside my gut until I sink my fangs deep into her flesh

Oh, sweet, lovely taste, so warm

Oh god, I feel it in my heart

I’m glad I can feel so numb

So numb, so numb, so numb

https://soundcloud.com/tanner-cowens-892278815/the-thirst

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“Letter to a Friend”

Atherstone with Chava Barahona on bass (right) at Hidden Valley High School, 2007

Continuing on from the relationship mentioned in “From Butterflies to Butcher Knives”, my then-girlfriend had broken things off and begun dating the mailman. 

Yes, really.

It’s no surprise that this destroyed me. After all, I had moved past and forgiven her for essentially cheating on me with her coworker, and we were on what seemed to be a solid path to a bright future. We were young and had been committed to each other for about a year - which is an eternity when you’re 18 or 19 years old - when things fell apart. Conversations to reconcile our differences seemed to lead nowhere, yet I was still determined to make things work. But by this point in time, nothing I said seemed to sway her.

Where words fail, music speaks. I was broken and angry, and wanted to address my view of her decision to break things off, and somewhat still scoffed at the idea of friendship after being so close romantically. I decided the best way to address my concerns about the matter, and her relationship with the fucking mailman was to write a song with the band. Though she had a new lover, she “still wanted to be friends” -  a phrase I’ve always related to being put on the back burner, or on the shelf in case things didn’t work out with a new person, there’s always a fallback plan. It pissed me off. We all know how that turns out.

To pour salt in the wound, or add insult to injury, about a month before she broke things off, I had bought an engagement ring from a pawn shop. We were young and poor, and it was the best I could do. Maybe she knew I was going to propose, and out of fear, cut things off before I had the chance.

This song is full of questions I never had a chance to ask, self-pity, and slut-shaming to some degree. “Letter to a Friend” is very much a collection of the things I wish I’d said when everything was falling apart - like when you look back at a conversation and begin thinking of all things you should have said, the questions you would have asked, and how much more of a badass you think you would have sounded like if the words had just come then instead of later.

Side note: At this point in time, I was still quite young. I lived a double standard when it came to sexual freedom. I was disgusted by the idea of her sleeping with anyone else but me, yet I was out contradicting my own beliefs, finding rebounds and new arms to fall into. I fell for the cultural belief that men who sleep around are studs, and women who sleep around are sluts. I realized later on in life what a terrible principle that was, and have since adjusted my view of human sexuality. When I look back at the way I thought back then, it was quite immature, naïve, misguided and conceited.

The end section of this song “Love begins with a smile, and grows with a tender kiss. It’s watered with our sweat, and ends within our tears” became my philosophy for all future relationships from that point on. I felt that everything was temporary, and love was fleeting. It was all I’d experienced up to that point in time, and, unfortunately seems to be the case more often than not. 

Life is full of far more failure than success when it comes to love, but damn it if we don’t learn something from it.

“Letter to a Friend”

Tell me, does he fill your heart as much as he fills your bed?

Does he whisper sweet nothings?

Pure lies that fill your head

He will never love you, I would never leave you

The wedding band, still in hand, is begging for your touch

Can you recall my touch?

It used to drive you wild

You traded your heart for white lies

And late nights in beds that around your own

While you flee for miles, I’m here, alone inside myself

As half a man, with half a heart, I’m waiting still

Give me your hand, I’ll show you my heart 

I saw this coming from the start

Are you blind to deceit and the lies of the men that court you into their homes

Or do you bathe in gratitude every time your skirt blows up?

Does every kiss remind you of me, or do you really believe?

Your heart aches for me, doesn’t it?

There’s a void you just can’t shake

Distractions; your body shutters when you hear my name

When light dies, who do you share your sweat with?

Does he fill your soul as much as he fills your loins?

Have you seen a wedding band rust?

It can with tears and blood.

Forget yourself when you drown in lust 

Your body is a lost cause

The harbor; the reserve; that place you held me

Have you seen a grown man cry?

Have you seen your lost lover die?

Love begins with a smile

And grows with a tender kiss

It’s watered with our sweat

And ends within our tears

https://soundcloud.com/tanner-cowens-892278815/letter-to-a-friend-2

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“Have You”

Atherstone at The Trove, circa 2008.

For the first time in about a year I’d felt as though I had finally overcome my first bout with crushing alcoholism. I’d grieved the death of a close friend and found peace. I’d survived my first real teenage heartbreak. I felt there must have been supernatural forces at work, as I didn’t believe I had the strength to overcome these hardships alone in my will. I believed that there had been some kind of divine intervention, and it was time to give thanks to the one person who helped me back to my feet through every adversity I had faced: God.

I felt I was at a point in my life where I should spread the gospel by telling my story of healing through God, submit to Jesus’s will, and leave my life in the loving yet vengeful hands of an omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient Creator up in the cosmos. I surrendered to “God’s will” put my faith in him first, and praised him, for, you know, all the great shit he’d put me through.

Edit: As I am publishing this, my views have changed and I actually feel differently about God now. But, we’ll get to that later. Continue…

I decided to write my first worship song. That’s right, a worship song. Instead of it sounding like any standard worship song about sacrifice, love, the cross, or glory that you might hear walking into a modern church, I set out to write a big heavy metal tune where I scream my ass off to honor Jesus.

The whole message in this song described my feelings of being out of control, headed toward disaster or living in despair and impending doom, and when you feel that way, you should leave your fate in God’s hands, because he’s always there for you. Something like that.

Ironically, after this song was written and played many times, life seemed to get more complicated, more difficult, and overall, just overall worse from that point on. I felt like God slapped me in the face after trying to preach his name, so I became more self-destructive and angry toward Him. But for the time, this was how I felt.

“Have You”

Have you ever felt like the world was spinning at its own pace

And you’re just standing still?

The friends, the souls, the loves you make

Can’t compare to the cycle of heartbreak

You pray so hard, and you’ve waiting so long

Begging the sky for a savior

When he’s been there all along

God, save me

Take me away

God, save me

With your love and mercy

Have you ever felt like you’re not the one in control?

Trapped in a vessel headed toward a brick all

The brick of sin; a demon within

You feel the cold crawl across your skin

A demon grabs hold, you feel a beaming light

And that wish you made upon a star

Comes true in that fateful night

Oh God, I am saved by your grace

This is the spark, You are the flame

Blood, burn

https://soundcloud.com/tanner-cowens-892278815/have-you

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout

[songsandscars]

“Follow Me”

Atherstone at The Vinyl Club, Ashland, OR, 2008

When alcoholism and Jesus didn’t exactly pan out, I dove back into the dating pool. Perhaps some brief human companionship might remedy how angry and depressed I was. I made a… um… triumphant return to being a drunken idiot, and spent a lot of time and energy trying to have sex with random strangers I’d met at parties. At this point in my life, I was still between the ages of 19 and 20.

Desperate for attention while combating my social anxiety, I’d drink myself to a confident stupor and make an attempt to flirt with whoever was on my level of intoxication. More often than not, I wound up too drunk, throwing up somewhere in the woods outside the band house or on a friend, and pass out in my clothes on any horizontal surface that wasn’t covered in empty beer cans and Solo cups.

Then, one intoxicated night, I met someone just as stupid as I was, and the …uh… magic happened.

By magic, I mean we drunkenly stumbled into an empty room in the house , clumsily throwing our clothes all over the place until tripping over a random who was completely unconscious in the dark. I was so excited to finally “score” as things heated up and we began our heavy petting. From that point on, it became a flurry of desperation in feeling wanted and valued, and drunken sex with someone I was sure I wouldn’t remember in the morning (not that I was anywhere close to thinking that clearly in the moment). In the midst of everything going on, however, something amazing did happen.

I had a moment of clarity.

I opened my eyes, I leaned back, withdrawing my lips from hers to see her face, lit only by the moonlight peeking through one of the busted blinds in that room and a little bit of light shining under the door. We looked each other in the eyes, seemingly startled by the fact we were with each other to begin with. It seemed like we were staring at each other forever, though it was just a blink of the eye. Our expressions of thrill and excitement turned to shame. Our eyes diverted away from one another’s. Without a word, we stopped what we were doing and sat up.

She seemed concerned, with her head hung low staring at the floor. Maybe she was feeling insecure or rejected. She then put a hand on my shoulder and asked me if I was okay. I turned to her again, somewhat teary-eyed and said something I never expected.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t who I am. And this isn’t who I want to be.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, “Me either.”

Without another word, we seemed to mutually agree to call this off. The shame was real. She gathered her clothes casually, still a sense of hesitant uncertainty, put them back on, opened the door, walked out and closed the door behind her. 

There I was, sitting alone in the dark. But this time, I was at peace with the outcome. Maybe it was the first step to truly healing.

“Follow Me”

Wrapped in the silk of your kiss

The moonlight dances off your skin

A trail of clothes lead to your bed

Follow me to that empty room

The candlelight will set the mood

I watch as your skin turns red

You blush, you bloom, and you let me in

The world’s spinning; our hands are both entwined as one

My gentle flirt against you burrow is a loaded gun

The mountains move to the beat of cemetery fog

Don’t let me take your breath away, this night has just begun

Don’t falter now

Come on out, don’t be shy

We paint the sky with our groans and sighs

The windows steamed with passionate lies

The day we bleed for the fantasy

Will be the day we feel alive

I know it’s not so easy to fall out of line

But babe, you’ve got potential

Let me ease your troubled mind

Your head falls back, I arch my spine

And in this time we find

Locked within one another’s gaze

This isn’t what we had in mind

She walks through the doorway…

https://soundcloud.com/tanner-cowens-892278815/follow-me-2

#Songs and Scars #Tanner Cowens #Lyrics #Poems #Stories #Rest Repose #Fallen Theory #The Rise The Fall #Dryseason #Atherstone #Dare by Takeout