1. |
Clusterfuck Jones
05:10
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A mental narrator finds another way to say
That we’ve been makin’ our rounds under his crowded gaze.
Crafty little devil has nothing left to settle.
The west is always the best when it’s left to the cattle.
Flash dancing in the purple rain, my feet are loose.
I’m boiling in hot water ‘til you taste my juice.
I hold my fantasies aloft to remain aloof.
You’ll never see any better.
I’ve got best-seller flavor.
So why lie?
I am so lonely I could just die.
The watcher and the seer hold each other in esteem
still I wait for another ego to stain.
The street rat strikes her best Rembrandt alone.
Your galactic peepshow only costs a nickel and a dime
This time, I am so lonely I could just die.
Why lie? I am so lonely I could just die.
Don’t ask why. I am so lonely I could just die.
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2. |
Elvis Was a Freemason
03:55
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I don’t know why you pray
Because of what your padre say
But he don’t know about the CIA
And all their mystery ways
It’s a new age
For your mystery ways
Honey honey it’s a new age
For all your mystery ways
And Elvis was a freemason
Elvis was a freemason
Elvis was God’s only son
He rose from the dead
He cleared his throat and said
Faith without works is dead
Now gimme a hunk of your burning love
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3. |
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If it’s not a personal question
are you a virgin?
maybe possessed by devils?
If the answer’s yes to these questions
we’re right behind you.
We will worship the ground that walk on
until you lose a shoe.
Blasphemy!
You didn’t bring us here
we just followed you.
We have always know all the time
that you were just playing around at being mad
and I know you like orders,
I know you like ‘em so throw me to the ground.
After a night of good sex
I often pray to open my windows
every morning to thousands of people cheering my name.
Blashpemy!
I’d probably go home too
if no one was following me.
I once was blind,
but now I just can’t see.
We could go to a stoning
but I could go to a stoning any time.
So just harvest my body
while we sit at the children’s matinee.
Symbolic of my struggle against reality
you wanna see what emerges
when you reach under the leaf?
Blasphemy!
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4. |
Marital Discord
06:01
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The viewer becomes the screen.
We can anticipate you and control you.
It doesn’t mean a thing ‘til you consume it.
Resenting it will not halt its progress.
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5. |
Kitchenettes
03:45
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Supersonic blandness in the face of madness
Samurai sadness has got us wanting more
Ooh that’s nice
Satan’s talking through the walls
and all I can do is sell a kitchenette
Stuck in endless greetings love’s repeating
The devil’s in the fine print wanting more
Stack the ages
Faceless shapefuls
Nobody knows how
Patent pending
Safety sending
Our moments die in unmarked graves
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6. |
Don't Cramp Us, Krampus!
03:51
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The friction between us.
My hands are covered in vice.
Triple X-mas has come early.
The friction between us.
Beat the naughty sack
‘til it has turned black and blue
and this dance is rocking out,
it’s a demon dementia demolition.
Arranging our dark fiction.
Horn of the demon
we’re arranging our dark fiction.
This dance is rocking
we’re arranging our dark fiction.
It’s all fermenting
we’re arranging our dark fiction.
Our atoms collide.
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7. |
Trust Falling
03:44
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Monday night you went down to Hug ‘N Pint,
had a beer or two or forty
and they were going down smooth.
What color are you?
I hope you are blue.
Bottle caps and table scraps,
anything to fill in the gaps.
Have you felt your memory lapse
stuck in all these endless recaps?
What color are you?
I hope you are blue.
A storm is coming to town.
Sink or swim, you know he won’t drown.
Will they ever come around
when they’re all down and out?
And so this homegrown Peter Pan
will make you his biggest fan.
He’ll lead you to promised land,
smiling empty on his empty hands.
What color are you?
I hope you are blue.
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8. |
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Mystery girls swimming in the adverbs
Tweak the prom dresses of the psychics
Casual kneecaps buckle with desire
Idiots on the ice
I am acutely aware of
My own libidinal gaps
Handcuffed by your ribcage
An impotent cul de sac
Record the romance
You handsome devil
Drive a hard bargain
To keep us level
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9. |
Trade-Ins
05:46
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Listless, and dried out again
I’m washed ashore
and I’m tasting sand
and then it hits me:
I’m one of a kind.
The end is near
but I don’t seem to mind
because I’m
stubborn like a stick in the mud,
worn out like a tire in a rut,
burnt out like idea machines.
What’s wrong with a little distraction,
our heads cut off for a piece of the action?
You want some tips on the road to success, boy?
Just buy my book for its lessons on excess.
You ain’t saving me.
Capsize the wagon again
and now I’m comatose in the oxygen
and so you sling words,
the four letter kind
with me the only target
that they hope to find
and so I’m
sneaking through your bedroom door,
avoiding all the creaks in the floor,
crawling up to your bedside
only to whisper
“Goodbye love,
I’m gone today.
I’m trading the you
for the lonely me.
If the flood rolls in
and I’m still away
ignore what the crowds all say.”
You ain’t saving me.
Sneaking through your bedroom door,
avoiding all the creaks in the floor,
get myself the hell outta dodge,
I’m swimming to a different song,
swimming ‘cause the ending is nigh,
crawling up to your bedside
only to whisper
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10. |
Transmission
10:59
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Amniotic Buzzsaw Bellingham, Washington
Pick an obstruction and create something.
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