It Is
Vices I Admire Lyrics


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I am master of few and I am lover of less and I've gotten weaker with age and I am buried by guilt and I'm the simplest form: a plastic face, but well dressed--another sad impersonation of intrigue. Would if I could swallow words, but the melody cries out for a blanket, hold her under water, keep her 'til heart stops, until she sleeps at last.

I am full of contempt and you are worse than money and all I dream are big things and if I ache it's for time and if I'm old then I'm prime and if I'm dead then all my body's blood has run out and all the easy breath gone dry. Pardon my weak resolve, but the memory cries out for a stronger voice to hold the waters back, to put the dead to rest, to push the night aside.

My catalogs breed paper entrails to know me by.

Here it is: another fool for a king, another king turned fool for a day. Here it is: another world for your own, another chance to ruin or live with what you know. Pursue me, victory--talismans and healing words--triumph is fleeting and failure is forever so hedge your bets on a promise to your pulse.
Here it is: another glorious boast, another requiem to soul's misery. Here it is: another wretched outcast denying self so desperately. Here it is: another slow dirge, another slow decay. Here I am: another mess to clean up, another warrior who wants to go back home. I want to go back home





You wear the martyr, I'll wear his makeup and we'll pretend we're both okay. You make me happy, but I am bored now, I left the disguise on all day.

Overall Meaning

The lyrics to Vices I Admire's song It Is delve into the struggles of identity and the personal battles that come with it. The opening lines, "I am master of few and I am lover of less and I've gotten weaker with age," suggest a sense of loss and regret. The singer is burdened by guilt and feels like a plastic impersonation of themselves, dressed up to appear interesting. The desire to conceal one's true self is reflected in the line, "Would if I could swallow words," indicating a desire to keep silent and avoid revealing too much. However, the singer's emotions eventually come to the surface, as they express the desire to "hold her under water" and "put the dead to rest," implying a struggle with guilt and the weight of the past.


The second verse continues with themes of regret and longing for something more. The singer is "full of contempt" and dreams of "big things," but ultimately feels that time is slipping away. The line, "My catalogs breed paper entrails to know me by," suggests a need for recognition and understanding, but the singer is unable to find the fulfillment they seek. The chorus reiterates the idea that life is full of risks and potential failures, yet one must continue to push forward and take chances. The final lines, "You make me happy, but I am bored now, I left the disguise on all day," reveal a sense of disillusionment and a struggle to maintain a facade.


Line by Line Meaning

I am master of few and I am lover of less and I've gotten weaker with age and I am buried by guilt and I'm the simplest form: a plastic face, but well dressed--another sad impersonation of intrigue.
I have few skills and little passion, and as I've grown older, I've become weaker. Guilt of my actions weigh me down, even though I appear perfect on the surface as a fake and superficial imitation of mystery.


Would if I could swallow words, but the melody cries out for a blanket, hold her under water, keep her 'til heart stops, until she sleeps at last.
I wish I could unsay what I've said, but the music calls me to a dark and disturbing place where I imagine harming someone until the life drains from their body.


I am full of contempt and you are worse than money and all I dream are big things and if I ache it's for time and if I'm old then I'm prime and if I'm dead then all my body's blood has run out and all the easy breath gone dry. Pardon my weak resolve, but the memory cries out for a stronger voice to hold the waters back, to put the dead to rest, to push the night aside.
I am full of disdain, and you are even more repulsive to me than wealth. I dream of great achievements, but I am limited by time. Even in death, I will have lost all vitality. I apologize for my feeble determination, but my memories call for a fearless spirit to conquer all obstacles and overcome darkness.


My catalogs breed paper entrails to know me by.
I create records of my life in extensive detail, in hopes of finding an identity and understanding myself better.


Here it is: another fool for a king, another king turned fool for a day. Here it is: another world for your own, another chance to ruin or live with what you know. Pursue me, victory--talismans and healing words--triumph is fleeting and failure is forever so hedge your bets on a promise to your pulse.
Yet again, someone becomes a pawn to a ruler, and another monarch falls prey to foolishness temporarily. Another opportunity presents itself for you to embrace, with the possibility of either succeeding or enduring the consequences of poor choices. Triumph is short-lived, but failure is eternal, so choose wisely and base your actions on what your heart tells you to do.


Here it is: another glorious boast, another requiem to soul's misery. Here it is: another wretched outcast denying self so desperately. Here it is: another slow dirge, another slow decay. Here I am: another mess to clean up, another warrior who wants to go back home. I want to go back home
Another person arrogantly boasts about their achievements, while others suffer inside. Another individual is desperately attempting to distance themselves from their true self. Life is slowly fading away yet another sad existence. I am another person in need of help, another fighter who longs for comfort and familiarity - I wish I could go back home.


You wear the martyr, I'll wear his makeup and we'll pretend we're both okay. You make me happy, but I am bored now, I left the disguise on all day.
You pretend to be a martyr and I will act as if everything is fine, even when it is not. Although you bring me joy, I am becoming restless and weary of maintaining this façade all day long.




Contributed by Mateo N. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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