Crying for Likes by Kevin Kantor Lyrics
So I'm scrolling through Instragram
and crying
Okay, Maybe its more like the sky cracked open
and it started raining polaroids of sad boys
But its like that commodified kind of sadness
Sadness that you want to double tap
Sadness with a search function
Sadness that probably didn't invite your sadness to the writers group
Because maybe your sadness is a little too sad
like a dont share kind of sadness
Not cute when it cries
Doesn't have real reach
Sadly sort of simple sadness
Sadness that could maybe use a PR team
Sadness that should definitely rebrand itself as misery
Sadness that frankly just doesn't celebrate itself enough
So I'm scrolling through instagram
and crying
at a photo of another queer man
and sitting sadly, smiling
at a river, or a lake
or an arbitrary body of water
His nails painted neatly
The right hand undoubtly done by a lover
and I double tap
My fingers always either naked
or coated red to the knuckle
I think of the phrase
"another queer man"
and the bridge I attempt to build with the word "another"
How it cant withstand the weight of the word "man"
and so the bridge crumbles into the water
The last word left hanging
and I'm still not entirely sure who im crying for
Maybe, for this mans teeth
That atleast in this photo look so straight
Maybe, because, to the water ,my body is arbitrary
Maybe because I'm scrolling through instagram
convinced im building bridges
When all I've done is given myself something to jump from
and crying
Okay, Maybe its more like the sky cracked open
and it started raining polaroids of sad boys
But its like that commodified kind of sadness
Sadness that you want to double tap
Sadness with a search function
Sadness that probably didn't invite your sadness to the writers group
Because maybe your sadness is a little too sad
like a dont share kind of sadness
Not cute when it cries
Doesn't have real reach
Sadly sort of simple sadness
Sadness that could maybe use a PR team
Sadness that should definitely rebrand itself as misery
Sadness that frankly just doesn't celebrate itself enough
So I'm scrolling through instagram
and crying
at a photo of another queer man
and sitting sadly, smiling
at a river, or a lake
or an arbitrary body of water
His nails painted neatly
The right hand undoubtly done by a lover
and I double tap
My fingers always either naked
or coated red to the knuckle
I think of the phrase
"another queer man"
and the bridge I attempt to build with the word "another"
How it cant withstand the weight of the word "man"
and so the bridge crumbles into the water
The last word left hanging
and I'm still not entirely sure who im crying for
Maybe, for this mans teeth
That atleast in this photo look so straight
Maybe, because, to the water ,my body is arbitrary
Maybe because I'm scrolling through instagram
convinced im building bridges
When all I've done is given myself something to jump from