1. |
Tracer
06:01
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I am quite careless and I spill
my cup of life and vigor
onto colorless fabric
I am quite silent as I stare
I watch the solvent stain and swirl
a surreal spontaneous pattern
subtle headaches and double vision
maintain consciousness, drink the elixir
the sunlight splatters and it shows
the dirt trapped in this creature's fur
an unintentional collection
from rolling and contorting where
the earth extends an invitation
to the loneliest of habits
we don our masks, us hidden figures
sweat and soil smeared on our faces
I deplete myself upon direct request
but this world will have its way with me
I won't have to ask
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2. |
Climb the Ladder
03:13
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you're always surrounding yourself with
people who refuse to feel comfortable around you
what's that gonna do for your chances at happiness?
sit posed paralyzed on the edge of the couch
you are thinking that you can't let your guard down
life expects of you and you don't think you amount
you wish that you could remember how to feel it out
but you're always surrounding yourself with
people who refuse to feel comfortable with themselves
so what will you do when it's your turn at the helm?
think of all of the people that you're not
and how you wish that you could be feeling
whatever they're feeling now
life expects of you and will continue to keep score
until you break the karmic chain and run for freedom now
you're always denying yourself and
you refuse to ever feel comfortable with yourself
til you climb the ladder to that fictional happiness up there in hell
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3. |
Cowboy Killer
04:06
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there are so many love songs on the radio that it's pitiful
we sang without ever looking at each other
we held hands and we winced
and the car drove in reverse to the music of our youth
where you dreamt my skin as marble smooth
but on our first touch it had wrinkled
and love is too layered for these simple rhymes
and passion too fleeting for the mention of fire
that metaphor sparks only when I
get a solid rhythm going in my mind
and the consistency of my pulse makes you miserable
on the offbeat you hear more intricate blood rush
calling you back-
still that touch rips through my veins
with considerable force,
my avenues leaking red blue and turqouise
join his you let cling onto your corpse
and love is too layered for these simple rhymes
and passion too fleeting for the mention of fire
that metaphor sparks when you only find
that when you quarantine a feeling it dies
that metaphor sparks when i tried to hide
that when you quarantine a feeling it dies
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4. |
People Get Scared of You
05:02
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every day is a holiday
and every night is a bow tied around a bottle
we grind our teeth on the edges
free to be as spoiled children
who have no self-control or patience
but I don't feel so eager
to rip into the bodies surrounding me
in your experience, you know
some packages tear more easily
as I hide from your demanding frisk
and you are thrilled to be alive,
but when you talk about it
people get scared of you.
we deal with more subtle emotions than conveyed,
and we are not letting a damn thing through.
I'm walking a dirty floor uncertainly to your room,
uncluttered, no attachment, you are crying,
and trying to free the starving children
from behind the floodgates which hold still your feelings.
I am dripping from a 19th century romance novel
and absorbing onto a blotter that's dissolving onto your tongue.
frightened, we drop to swap synapse for synapse
you will find no overlap in symmetry,
but two halves of a greater mind.
panic that you've gone too far and leave it behind.
and I am thrilled to be alive,
but when I talk about it
are you really that scared of me?
I fear indecision is a prison;
escape is trying to be part of what does not belong to me.
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5. |
Blood Waltz
04:30
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my fingers smell of drying blood-
its putrid,
a reminder of stinging love,
we broke bottles for fun
and we happily fought for a drunken audience
but as we went under,
there remained this lingering hunger
i am a leech that you hold dear,
my god i am starving for your laughter and tears
to be alive is to consume and to be consumed
and you're my most vital life force
my narrow eyes are an embrace
and your heated speech is a slow dance
of anger erupting,
of selfless destruction
a leech that i hold dear
stealing off with my laughter and tears
and we are eaten whole by anything that really makes us feel
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6. |
Kitchens in Ferndale
04:38
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no one's gonna love you
not in the pure sense of the term
not with you leaning against the wall
with a cigarette in hand and indifference on your face
several beers later
you're in a much different place
a caustic smile, some sardonic irony
slobbering and free, very happy to be
self-destruction is your toy,
runs on the same batteries that keep
the young blood pumping in your heart
acidic it draws you from a graveyard of blankets
and you are doing the twist
on a sticky kitchen floor
where everyone is going to have you
but they are not going to love you
not til you become the songs that you sing
when you're far too gone to be concerned
about filtering your speech
your AR-15 mouth its aimed
at the establishment but you
never fire, only draw
until you falter and forget,
and then we find you passed out on the bottom step
a shattered fifth, your broken ego on the floor
but you are not a fool like the rest
who have ambition, no not at all
but no one is going to love you, not like that
breakfast and a nap with no pressing plans
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7. |
The Next Next Bob Dylan
05:04
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the next next bob dylan
he's gonna come raging, descending from a thunderous cloud
and all the world's music journalists,
they're gonna genuflect then turn around and act real proud
that they can still spit high strung vocabulary,
create an idol for our times
before hanging him up to die
and the second coming of jesus christ
he already came about a million times
twice for every little shit who took too many
designer drugs and then didn't die
thrice for every business magnate
who squandered all his wealth and his status in attempt to find
a lover who ain't lying this time
and the third billionaire elected president
they'll love their rebel icons and religious reform
but they'll forever hold a spot in their heart for
a good expensive american fireworks show
and they'll sure end the world in an instant while the
jesuses out in the desert play,
and journalists in offices protect their incentive gains
they know by now about a number of prophecies
that spread the same incessant message
to eyes that have been wedded
to the quarterly profit statements
the sun puts on its glasses
it cracks a smile and an oberon
it pulls up a lawn chair
and it watches as we all implode
it's sure gonna miss us when we go
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8. |
Dashboard Smoke
06:53
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I am dancing with life,
it's a terrible partner,
but it's trying and I'm trying
I am reading cues with you
and attempting to loosen my speech a little
you are relaxing but still fumbling with your footing,
and i dont know which direction to turn next
someday I'm sure I'll feel honored
to have been the mold you tried to cast over
your tangled body, or won't I?
see nothing ever fit right,
but we're still finding pockets where
we can share the same air-
aren't you feeling high from the intake?
your exhalation brings death to the moment,
and you settle back into your form-
right there
I am laughing with life,
can't understand its esoteric sense of humor,
but I'm trying and it's trying
you want to be patient with me
you want to answer the questions I've asked with my eyes for years
I'm far too confident,
despite my reclusive tendencies,
saying I am fearless when I have no options left
you know it would be selfish for me
to ask you to think of me and not my shell-
or wouldn't it?
see everything stacks in the physical realm,
but I'm just a cloud of ideas upon which nothing concrete
can latch onto-
so let me feel you rip out pages of my soul
and replace them with pages of yours,
and make plans to explore this vacuum
that is self-expression,
my thoughts tinged with yours are a monster
rising from the shape of smoke sailing across your dashboard,
and it's got such beautiful eyes you know,
but it gawks and laughs at us til we both feel sick,
and nothing makes sense,
and I'm telling it that I'm only acting fearless
cause I have no options left
but to dwell in the distance
from where your voice drugged up my head,
and I'll come home and come down quick,
all overgrown with dangling limbs
sprawling from the side of my bed and tracing the floor
where I brought in the dirt from
a sinking foundation where I built my past
if everything that is beautiful to you
just obscures a truth that you can't view,
then I know it would be selfish for me to ask you
to think of me and not my shell
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9. |
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asleep I hope to see you in another life or dream
a higher plane where people will to lower their esteem
and disregard such posturing that I could never fake
to make you feel I'm something more than a few lucky mistakes
and I know your divinity
it's as pure as eternity
when it constantly renews itself
through rebirth of its smaller cells
retaining wonder on a shelf named time
lost wisdom stored on the fringe of your mind
you never lend a page of your archive
weakness and discomfort calibrate our common being
and we miss the mark completely bridging spaces in between
delusions of self-worth but not flawed naked grace
I've waited for exceptions but I don't even work that way
I fear a long way to go yet
my body's mismatched pieces
in a puzzling environment,
to wear loud colors and cement
a piece within the throes of fashion
so you'll know the truth without ever asking
how learning to be lonely
takes a lot of practice
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Holy Profane Detroit, Michigan
Lo-fi word spew and pretty noise experiments
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