1. |
Clear Skies
03:53
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"film me in an ordinary space"
spoke, with teeth full of tobacco dregs
he tasted like an ashtray and smelt like cheap red wine
"show me in the golden hour, let them see my finer side"
"film me beneath the clear blue skies,
I don't want those alien clouds blotting out my sweet little lies"
he spoke just like a junkie and lived just like one too
regicide in The Evening Post, a deep elation soon ensued
call him a martyr, call him insane
call him a bastard, it's all the same
call him your lover, call him a drain
on your taxable pennies sent up in flames
call him a junkie, call him a cunt,
call him a sweetheart, call him a runt
he doesn't care, he will not back down
until he's king of this ghost town
x2
"film me in stark absence of grace,
I'm without beer, I'm without bread, I'm to be duplicated, destined for fame"
he said, with a stout clasped in his paws
"I want the world to kiss me and taste them as cud in my gnashing jaws"
"film me in bed with the president,
I want the image displayed to you to be as sure as the pavement"
he said, with a crowd around his words
soliloquising to The Evening Post and garnering his rabid herd
call him a martyr, call him insane
call him a bastard, it's all the same
call him your lover, call him a drain
on your taxable pennies sent up in flames
call him a junkie, call him a cunt,
call him a sweetheart, call him a runt
he doesn't care, he will not back down
until he's king of this ghost town
x2
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2. |
Byzantine
04:56
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one, two, three, four
I am a Byzantine businessman my jacket's lined with
silk road of powdered rinds, holy ghost or radiated minds
I am a Byzantine businessman of sanctified
transactions crystallised, witness my expanding storefronts rise
I am an Ottoman autocratic businessman
can you see my cannons dance atop my growing horde of coinage grand?
I am an Ottoman autocratic businessman
am I the only man capable of seeing out this plan?
I am lost
am I American?
I am lost
am I American?
I am lost
am I American?
I am lost
am I American?
am I Gaulish? am I Jewish? am I a Barbarian?
am I Frankish? a Mercian? out of history I'm wrote
I know no business, know no trade, so let me ply what you have made
give me a culture to believe in or let me fade away
I need a loan, I'm fucking broke, these bastards choke me 'til I croak
my lungs are aching, ventilating, hooked up to debt, a debt unpaid
I am un-country-fied, disillusioned business sigh
here is my resume, blank for everything except my pay
I am lost
am I American?
I am lost
am I American?
I am lost
am I American?
I am lost
am I American?
am I a Capitalist pig?
a swine?
a reeking line
that's hoovered up
by snout so fine?
am I a Communistic
poser?
Socialistic loner?
talk so good but the
action's nowhere
am I just simply mediocre?
a body waiting to get older
am I just simply mediocre?
a body waiting to get older
I am lost
am I American?
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3. |
Golden-Borne
02:48
|
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infest me with that pocket-needle gleam
infest me with that golden-borne dream
that ever-slumber dreaming giantess seething
the overbearing sheen of pocket-needle fiends infests me
dear, o' my dear, tell me
if I can trust your chemical bloom
or wallowing?
your silver word horde lashing lets loose
stop following
the red and white stripes of this room
I'm flowering
in un-capitulation of fools
infest me with static-morphing seams
infest me with that golden-borne dream
I seen you in the static haze, that burst of post-manic malaise there's
gold for the fool dear, he deserves a thing or two dear, not me
dear, o' my dear, tell me
if I can trust your chemical bloom
or wallowing?
your silver word horde lashing lets loose
stop following
the red and white stripes of this room
I'm flowering
in un-capitulation of fools
can I trust your chemical bloom
or wallowing?
your silver word horde lashing lets loose
stop following
the red and white stripes of this room
I'm flowering
in un-capitulation of fools
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4. |
Milne's Guitar
01:21
|
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Instrumental
|
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5. |
Calloused
04:27
|
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your callouses capture light
does this evening seem alright to you?
something strange about the walls
your callouses capture light
there's weird injected in your spine
now you're standing twelve-foot tall
your callouses capture light
blisters seeking taciturn tactile
do shift rotations not satisfy?
your callouses capture light
something's not right about the time
seconds within hour emulsify
I'm sorry that I haven't been around
I think that I'm working too much
I missed your last party, I haven't quite found
the energy
every message to you seems to include "my bad"
I think that I'm drinking too much
I missed your last birthday yet haven't left town
I've just got no energy
your callouses refract light
a prism which dances in my eyes
as the fool spasms on the floor
your callouses refract light
on this cold, late November night
as hands reach blind towards the door
your callouses refract light
could I love you? I just might
need a little more time
your callouses refract light
as my room starts to stabilise
though it's as messy as before
I'm sorry that I haven't been around
I think that I'm working too much
I missed your last party, I haven't quite found
the energy
every message to you seems to include "my bad"
I think that I'm drinking too much
I missed your last birthday yet haven't left town
I've just got no energy
x2
|
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