1. |
Raise Hell
02:50
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raise cain, raise hell,
raise your shaky fists, raise the devil himself!
laid to rest or laid to waste. raise the stakes if you care.
raise the pitchforks high til you feel blood in your hair.
but do you mean it? can you sink those big teeth in?
can you sing his high praise while your enemies are bleedin'?
can you gut those grub? can you stick that pig?
are you that cutthroat? do you walk that big?
do you hunt in packs? do you cover your tracks?
are the knives up front? do you aim for their backs?
is their blood enough? do you need that meat?
do you talk big shit? do you shit where you eat?
are you kind sometimes to the people you meet?
just the great big ones or the ones who are weak?
are you really that tough? are you really that good?
are you one step away from being trampled under foot?
ka-put.
raise cain, raise hell,
raise your shaky fists, raise the devil himself!
laid to rest or laid to waste. raise the stakes if you care.
raise the pitchforks high til you feel blood in your hair.
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2. |
Free Tarot Readings
02:49
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i've been dead weight all my life
and, buddy, i'm doing 'just fine.'
wouldn't recommend my bent
for straight up seventeen percent
of what might pass for hobo wine.
at least not on a stolen cheque...
but you? you're on your daddy's dime
and last i checked, that ain't a crime.
word to the wise tho, on the downlow:
you weren't there so take a seat, bro.
fresh and green, addressing crowds
but don't know what you're talkin' 'bout.
well, here's a hint: the masquerade
is getting real damn hard to fake!
it's like my friends are all in prison
or they're in an early grave
and you think you're gonna pave
over the links in your own chain
without a catastrophic break, me saying
something just to take
a sec to step back from your hubris,
retrace the steps before we lose it?
you know, the threads we're wearing bare.
(unlikely that you even care.)
are you doing a bit
or do you actually find this freeing?
i get that you're stressed.
it's impressive you forego the meaning
of the lifestyle you imp
for a fantasy, youthful and fleeting.
kid, you get what you get
when both free and a tarot card reading...
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3. |
Clever Bug
02:23
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fertile, pregnant moon magick.
you either worship the moon or you're a lunatic
these days. and they say that's just politics.
it's just the crick-crick-crickets and their sing-song tricks.
oh, but you're a clever bug! you can wiggle in the dirt.
just a little too early, that early worm.
so, you sit and squirm and you dance for the birds.
i could eat you right up! isn't that absurd?
and i (gag gag gag) right into their mouths.
i could eat you right up and puke you back out.
that's the circle of life. that's the nature of nature.
you would make a good meal. i'd be doing you a favor.
and the world still spins, and the crickets still chirp,
and the moon completes its cycle. see? the system works!
shoulda made a sharper stick, shoulda found a better clique.
nothing personal, kid. it's just politics.
clever bug
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4. |
Swing Low, Sweet Chariot
02:27
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if allowed, i present my hypothesis
(if time and space and my intelligence
and your patience and my salience permits):
the premise of the problem? total shit.
so, fuck off, you fuckwit.
who's sticking out their neck
in a world of rodney dangerfields
and a lack of any respect? so, guess!
that's right, it's no one. and nothing.
and everything at once.
why does everyone expect the world
yet act like whiny cunts?
you better believe it!
the devil conceived it in a dream.
historians spent millennia deciphering exactly what it means.
so, tell me. do you mean it?
not a lick, i bet! don't fret!
there's plenty of suckers who believe in
literally any fucking thing,
and anyone who screams it
at six-hundred and sixty six decibels,
they pray to jesus, do work for the devil.
hey man, that's just how it goes!
when the opposition goes high,
you've gotta swing low!
swing low, sweet chariot,
comin' for to carry me home...
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5. |
Human Mulch
02:54
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every me is my worst me.
pretend i'm anything at all.
after all, what i'm presenting
is utterly non-threatening,
albeit unrelenting
and aggressively co-dependent.
i resent it insofar
as your perception of resentment
grants me favor or your pity,
or really anything i guess.
maybe i'm trying too hard
while also not trying my best.
better living as a parasite than
as a ceaseless pest.
any gumshoe spots the inference
and the others see no difference.
forgiveness is said to be divine.
assuming they can afford to
spare the pride or give it a try,
who would want to?
are you out of your mind?
shed my crosses, cut my losses?
just who has that kind of time?
you told me "boys don't cry,"
so when you die, rest assured that i won't,
lest i dare to disappoint
or break my funny bone.
you can frame that as my masterpiece. is it though,
when death himself is such an artist? best regards tho.
am i paranoid? i might be,
but you're poison
and i don't say that lightly.
i hope that you still like me.
is it stability or freedom that i value most?
can one exist without the other?
am i being verbose?
if you can't save me, entertain me.
have you seen a ghost?
what do you do for fun
and are you seeing someone?
how can i articulate
a waking dream while being awake?
i mean, shit, man. i deserve a break! for heaven's sake,
i'm not sure what i have left for them to take...
yet, they take it anyway!
you won't believe the cost of breathing room
they're charging nowadays.
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6. |
Before You Hang Up
02:20
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firm in my belief, not perfect but suitable,
endorphins get released when i get down to crying wolf
enough to justify my reasons for doing so.
so so so this accusation might get deemed too unbelievable...
if we might take a brief departure from reality,
i find the comfort of the coffin really neat!
but hey, there's only 24 hours in a day. so gay.
ain't nobody gonna hear you scream!
oh no! it's like the absence of life is absence of suffering,
and any abstract thought is hare brained primate fuckery.
if existential dread is karma made manifest,
then we've got some 'splainin' to do. who knew? alright, then listen, jack...
haunt the same locales, hang around the same pals.
"oh, you like to drink too? which bar? oh, wow!
we should totes hang out." "yeah, for sure, i'm down!"
"six 'o clock next week?" "think i might be free around
just a little after eight." "eight it is! ha, great!"
"see you soon!" "you too!" "catch you later, my dude!"
and i'm so sick of it.
and i'm so sick of it.
and i'm so sick of it.
and i'm so sick of it.
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7. |
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got you from your blindside.
if you only listened to your hindsight
inexplicably you'd be fine, right?
i'm seeking some kind of
dreamlike state of being
devoid of want or care or meaning.
is that too much to ask? sure,
but it's all that i can think to ask for:
a slovenly abyss i can calmly sink into.
something purely narcissistic when i'm in the mood,
which is all the time, which is every time.
and who wouldn't like to lie to the truth?
i think i would too, and if i wouldn't, who knows?
hard to say at this juncture.
but sure, wearing emperor's clothes
looks better when you're younger.
the poison has taken root.
you're dying, cool and aloof.
bad timing! are you trying?
but really, just how sad are you?
can you hear me in the back? stand up!
i can tell you up front, right off the bat: good luck!
i can say it all day, in fact. the rub
is action comes when you act. ok, bub?
so, pack it in and go home.
if you want to call it quits, then split.
just hit the road.
get carried away on every shift and flow
that comes your way.
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Skirtchaser Florida
Anything not nailed down is mine. Anything I can pry loose is not nailed down.
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