we all get what we deserve

If you're looking for a cure to your brain's sores in words written before bed,

You're more out of your head

Than the ants in the Amazon, bodies turned right into zombies-

Each song has a story that's faded

Like me and my ex had a beautiful adventure

Drove and screamed at each other for around six hours

I felt that it was fine and wrote 51 lines

Convincing myself this was love, not a crime

We all get what we deserve.

Here, now, in the void, later

We all get what we deserve.

Every Dollar Store douche, every soup kitchen worker

We all get what we deserve.

Oh

So, I try to be smart and I try to write clever

But all I am finding are empty, simple answers

A love song built on lying, a sex song the dog dies in

God, Mags, why such a need to hide?

I wanna burn off my stubble and drive out of state,

Finally grow some breasts- Ez said I can have her rest

Be free from these metaphors and finally speak plain-

"Can you still fake your death if they know your new name?"

I will get what I deserve.

Me as your family, as your friend, as your perv

I will get what I deserve.

Stiff as a feather, love, fly like a bird

These problems, they come from the horns, Mom

They won't let me sleep, they won't let me sleep

They weren't there when I was born, Mom

Holy water made me dirty

The devil's in the details, but God, he makes my heart swell

Here's to the horns and to health

The devil's in my details, and the details make my heart swell

Here's to the horns and to health

We all get what we deserve.

This, I know to be true

We all get what deserve.

I promise you, love, it'll be over soon

Nov 23, 2025

They painted the walls of my tunnel a horrid white. I really hope that some folks come along and throw up new tags.

This is a song I've been playing around with recently. Haven't played it at any shows or anything, really it's quite new and I have a feeling that this one will be growing in the months to come.

Quick story- in my family's village back in Portugal, it gets so very quiet on summer nights. The kind of quiet where you can really only hear the jingling of bells on the goats sleeping in their stalls. So, whenever it's late and I'm looking to play, I have a hard time since I worry about waking my grandmother.

This song and another one I wrote, "Cold Towel" were written at probably 2 o'clock in the morning in my village. And there's something truly strange and esoteric that took place with them where, suddenly, it was like I could sing the whole song without having ever written it down or anything. It bubbled and flowed up from my belly and out of my mouth. Regardless, though- I wound up having to pretty much pluck daintily and mumble the lyrics to stay soft enough!

This might be the only time I ever put this one out there or it might resurface again. Regardless, I really hope you enjoy.

Always with love,

Margot