| Song | Local Joke |
| Artist | Neon Indian |
| Album | Psychic Chasms |
| Common things never bother me cause | |
| I'm the local joke* | |
| Summer got high and swoll she calls me the broken spoke | |
| Never been late to **** with fate and see if faith's a joke | |
| Part of me wants the wants in life to tickle up and smoke | |
| Come to me cross a path of all these empty traits | |
| Everything is just unsaid no need to contemplate | |
| All my weights drip as they leave my lips how come do something straight | |
| She needs and excuse to end things and become the things you hate |