Skip to content Skip to sidebar Skip to footer

Lyrics Christian Heath McNease - Groundhog Day

Sleeping in this cold apartment
Makes no sense when you're not in it
And at night, it gets so quiet
I can't even hear the silence

Yeah, I'm just being honest
Another winter like this and I'mma leave for tropics
I bet at night, the concrete it never freezes on 'em
They've never seen us bloodshot freaks with fever on us
My boss said he thinks I need to be admonished
I got a Master's Degree, he think I speak ebonics
No degree, but married the owner's niece's daughter
They're on some hipster [skritch], worship on some vegan altar
My pop won a trophy, needs to be re-polished
My uncle passed away without the slightest reason for it
And I was gone and missed his viewing on some selfish [skritch]
The only absentee, I won't forgive myself for it
Regrets will fester with a goal to lead the sheep to slaughter
Used to living life with purpose, now I'm sleeping longer
Used to grow and staying green at least a season longer
But peak of summer stopped peeking in receded corners

I can hear my upstairs neighbor
Holding down a crying baby
Everybody starts a family
I can't even pay my heating

Yeah, when I'm forty-six, overweight and lifeless
And can't escape the fate of age and middle crisis
That's when I'll think about my daddy in his
Jet-black Brian Fantana locks, Ron Burgundy mustache
Back when he and momma really loved each other
Before the therapists and silence and the run-for-cover
I love my brothers, but now it's like we don't know each other
We'd take a bullet, but can't take the time to phone each other
Overheard this guy screaming, "You know that I love her!
She thinks it's cold feet; I just don't want her to suffer
I know I trust her, but what if I was unfaithful?"
I've seen this [skritch] too many times in life
And it's painful, ain't like I'm ungrateful, I'm just unstable
She's feeling like she's running out of time for the baby
And I want a baby
But I can't imagine how I'd ever raise another life to thrive with this baggage

If this life gets any colder
They might forecast snow tomorrow
Everything I love feels empty
Nothing speaks to me but TV

Yeah, I'm colder than I've ever been
This city sidewalk rips away your second skin
I don't belong here, I wasn't born here
Foreign transplant, been gone for four years
That's four years too long; and two nephews born
That kinda-sorta know me from a song
And random jpegs, they want me back home
It's King David sinking in the folly of his wrongs
Rising of the sun's song, and setting of the same
Fickle friends forgetting and remembering your name

Gradual decline and loss of innocence and shame
Wrinkles on your skin and say the mirror is to blame
The past begins rewinding until it gets you in the frame
Divine and passive have no common lineage or plane
It's the pictures of a stained-glass window on a silver screen
And some cathedral in a city that you never see
It's vague resemblance to an image that you'll never be
And pays the penance for the plans you never meant to keep
It's the grey fog that settles under kitten's feet
And flips the weatherman a finger while the city sleeps
It's the blatant loss of sympathy that pity keeps
And it's the pace your heart, when dying out but still it beats
Little forecast ain't for the rest of the night
It's cold and dark and it will last you the rest of your life