u/Pitiful_Builder5017

I got the exclusive 'static lover' pop-up blue vinyl on the release day of the album and I've wondered ever since I got it "why doesn't it have a tacklist anywhere on the vinyl or the sleeve. Unlike the other versions where the tracklist is stitched into her dress, the target exclusive, apple music exclusice, and the 'static lover' pop-up blue vinyl don't have a tracklist.

I just started writing it doesn't all make sense but it felt right at the time to say it. I'm sorry for the length it took me a while to write and I'm wanting some feedback for it:

Your mother cries, and your father dies

Your uncle's dead, but your still in bed

You think you know someone

But really your the dumb one

When you realized your a tortured poet

But really your name's Moet

Your mother leaves because of your deeds

You stay up till midnight

And you stay out of sight

Is it a crush

or really just a rush

No one believes you

So they all just leave you

When your really alone

Do you pick up the phone

I don't understand you anymore

But I keep asking for more

Who's the tortured poet

Not you, but I

And I don't like it, but i can't help it

I love you

But can I have you

No, because the worlds messed up

Just because I'm a fuckup

I can't have you

I just want to be you

And then I realize I'm not the fuckup

But you've made your mind up

I still wish I could be the person of your dreams

But your all that gleams

Hit me hard then hit me soft

Then you go aloft

I understand why you didn't stay

It just wasn't meant to be that way

Sometimes I think you adore me

But then you just ignore me

Maybe that's too much

But is there such

For now I've closed that book

So now it's tome to look

For that new special someone

So I don't point the gun

I got really mad

But actually I'm just sad

I don't understand it

But I don't care one bit

It may be an end of an era

But not for Clara

I try to move on

But she won't stop till' I'm gone

What if I'm just a tortured poet

Your name's just Moet

No one really cares

But what they bear

It's as thick ad air

But they don't dare

Speak of it outside of there

But is it just a flare of what people care

Then people call you a slut, and there are no buts

Once people have made up their minds

You have done the crimes

They look and stare

Then they leave you bare

Then they go back in time to undo the crime

I wish it worked that way

But no one can stay

I wish, I wish, I wish

But people bitch

It can and will never be enough

That's why they act so tough

They can't be me, no one can't

They can act, and that's a fact

People are like lights

Once the spark dies it's goodnight

But it's not good

And it never would

Then you remember

What happened last December

And as soon as you've forgotten

How much you've gotten

This could be the end

But it doesn't mend

They are never proud

But it's just a crowd

It's a disease that infiltrates the mind

and it's not that kind

It's one that can't be undone

Then you start bleeding, but your also gleaming

So with that I've come to the conclusion

I'm just a tortured poet tapped in an illusion

Today me (14M) and my boyfriend (15M) got into an argument and I just started writing it doesn't all make sense but it felt right at the time to say it. If you guys want I will give you guys an update on what happends. I'm sorry for the length it took me a while to write and I'm wanting some feedback for it:

Your mother cries, and your father dies

Your uncle's dead, but your still in bed

You think you know someone

But really your the dumb one

When you realized your a tortured poet

But really your name's Moet

Your mother leaves because of your deeds

You stay up till midnight

And you stay out of sight

Is it a crush

or really just a rush

No one believes you

So they all just leave you

When your really alone

Do you pick up the phone

I don't understand you anymore

But I keep asking for more

Who's the tortured poet

Not you, but I

And I don't like it, but i can't help it

I love you

But can I have you

No, because the worlds messed up

Just because I'm a fuckup

I can't have you

I just want to be you

And then I realize I'm not the fuckup

But you've made your mind up

I still wish I could be the person of your dreams

But your all that gleams

Hit me hard then hit me soft

Then you go aloft

I understand why you didn't stay

It just wasn't meant to be that way

Sometimes I think you adore me

But then you just ignore me

Maybe that's too much

But is there such

For now I've closed that book

So now it's tome to look

For that new special someone

So I don't point the gun

I got really mad

But actually I'm just sad

I don't understand it

But I don't care one bit

It may be an end of an era

But not for Clara

I try to move on

But she won't stop till' I'm gone

What if I'm just a tortured poet

Your name's just Moet

No one really cares

But what they bear

It's as thick ad air

But they don't dare

Speak of it outside of there

But is it just a flare of what people care

Then people call you a slut, and there are no buts

Once people have made up their minds

You have done the crimes

They look and stare

Then they leave you bare

Then they go back in time to undo the crime

I wish it worked that way

But no one can stay

I wish, I wish, I wish

But people bitch

It can and will never be enough

That's why they act so tough

They can't be me, no one can't

They can act, and that's a fact

People are like lights

Once the spark dies it's goodnight

But it's not good

And it never would

Then you remember

What happened last December

And as soon as you've forgotten

How much you've gotten

This could be the end

But it doesn't mend

They are never proud

But it's just a crowd

It's a disease that infiltrates the mind

and it's not that kind

It's one that can't be undone

Then you start bleeding, but your also gleaming

So with that I've come to the conclusion

I'm just a tortured poet tapped in an illusion

I just started writing it doesn't all make sense but it felt right at the time to say it. I'm sorry for the length it took me a while to write and I'm wanting some feedback for it:

Your mother cries, and your father dies

Your uncle's dead, but your still in bed

You think you know someone

But really your the dumb one

When you realized your a tortured poet

But really your name's Moet

Your mother leaves because of your deeds

You stay up till midnight

And you stay out of sight

Is it a crush

or really just a rush

No one believes you

So they all just leave you

When your really alone

Do you pick up the phone

I don't understand you anymore

But I keep asking for more

Who's the tortured poet

Not you, but I

And I don't like it, but i can't help it

I love you

But can I have you

No, because the worlds messed up

Just because I'm a fuckup

I can't have you

I just want to be you

And then I realize I'm not the fuckup

But you've made your mind up

I still wish I could be the person of your dreams

But your all that gleams

Hit me hard then hit me soft

Then you go aloft

I understand why you didn't stay

It just wasn't meant to be that way

Sometimes I think you adore me

But then you just ignore me

Maybe that's too much

But is there such

For now I've closed that book

So now it's tome to look

For that new special someone

So I don't point the gun

I got really mad

But actually I'm just sad

I don't understand it

But I don't care one bit

It may be an end of an era

But not for Clara

I try to move on

But she won't stop till' I'm gone

What if I'm just a tortured poet

Your name's just Moet

No one really cares

But what they bear

It's as thick ad air

But they don't dare

Speak of it outside of there

But is it just a flare of what people care

Then people call you a slut, and there are no buts

Once people have made up their minds

You have done the crimes

They look and stare

Then they leave you bare

Then they go back in time to undo the crime

I wish it worked that way

But no one can stay

I wish, I wish, I wish

But people bitch

It can and will never be enough

That's why they act so tough

They can't be me, no one can't

They can act, and that's a fact

People are like lights

Once the spark dies it's goodnight

But it's not good

And it never would

Then you remember

What happened last December

And as soon as you've forgotten

How much you've gotten

This could be the end

But it doesn't mend

They are never proud

But it's just a crowd

It's a disease that infiltrates the mind

and it's not that kind

It's one that can't be undone

Then you start bleeding, but your also gleaming

So with that I've come to the conclusion

I'm just a tortured poet tapped in an illusion