1. |
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Oh, stub your toe
Or walk on hot coals
What do you hide and why?
And where do your taxes go?
Eat your digital food
Distance message from mood
I'll meet you in the boonies
We can live an American life
I fear I'm fading into abstraction
Grasping at emphatic straws
I fear we don't value self-education
Accept what we know's what we know and it's true
Keep your eye on the prize
Realize your size
The bureaucratic banality of evil
Is still at large
They dehumanize
Pseudospeciaize
They've naturalized inequality
So they can live their American lives
I fear I'm fading into abstraction
Grasping at emphatic straws
I fear we don't value self-education anymore
Accept what we know's what we know and it's true
I fear those who stick to birds of a feather
And propagate bed-ridden bourgeois
I fear I've begun to lose my tether
So I pop a cap and a stem and start to unspool
ᴅᴏᴡɴʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅɪɢɪᴛᴀʟ ᴘʀᴏꜰɪʟᴇ
ᴡᴀɪᴛ
ᴡᴀɪᴛ
ᴡᴀɪᴛ
ᴏᴋ
ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴇꜱᴅᴀʏ ᴀᴛ 11:00 ᴀᴍ, ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴅᴇꜱɪɢɴᴇʀ ꜱʜᴏᴇꜱ
ᴏɴ ᴡᴇᴅɴᴇꜱᴅᴀʏ ᴀᴛ 9:30 ᴘᴍ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ᴀɴ ᴀᴅᴠᴇʀᴛɪꜱᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇʀᴇᴄᴛɪʟᴇ ᴅʏꜱꜰᴜɴᴄᴛɪᴏɴ
ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴜʀꜱᴅᴀʏ ᴀᴛ 2:00 ᴘᴍ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪɴꜱᴛᴀʟʟ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴍᴏᴄʀᴀᴛɪᴄ ɪɴꜱᴜʀɢᴇɴᴄʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏʀᴛʜᴇʀɴ ᴄᴏɴɢᴏ
ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ...
ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ...
ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ
ɢᴏᴅ
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2. |
Bones
05:42
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I've been growing tired of these rusty bones
Don't know if I can find the road home
Turn these bones into a place that I can call home
But who am I?
I wear a box on my face
I've come to accept
It's not just a phase
I wear this box on my face
But who are you?
To walk through the door
To the back of my eyes
Begging for more
I'll beg you for more
But who are we?
To stand in your way
We'll step aside
And walk beside you
Don't know the road home
Can't find it on my own
And I've been growing tired of these rust bones
I've been growing tired of these rusty bones
I've been growing tired of these rusty bones
I've been growing tired of these rusty bones
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3. |
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We observe the ossifying, guiltless bugs
Count our demons, burn our hands, sip our honey mugs
Dominate, reflect, inflect, denounce the motionless
Squeeze our pity tubes and recognize we scar the nebulous
Vicarious, vivacious habits clustered on a pixel screen
Nimble, pink, petite, addicted to amphetamines
Grind your teeth and fix your eyes upon tremedous days
Idealize a dip in time, a peachy ooze through space
Build a shelter
I'll hide in my cave
Build a shelter
A brain in a tank
Revitalize and swallow up all your penny fame
Stand beside the wriggling masses and deprive your shame
Slam the door and turn the lights off, throw your keys in the vase
Bask in the absurdity, laugh it off and join the ranks
I'll build a shelter
Hide in my cave
Build a shelter
A brain in a tank
Milk it
For all we got
If we resolve
That's all we got
Coordinated provocation in our lungs
Notice how conspirers speak in tongues
Throw a beetle in the stew and wash our mouths
Gag and vomit as we fumble to spit it out, out, out
Build a shelter
I'll hide in my cave
Build a shelter
A brain in a tank
Just keep on scrolling
Just keep on scrolling
Just keep on scrolling
Just keep on scrolling
Scroll
Scroll
Scroll
Scroll
Scroll your newsfeed
Scroll
Scroll
Scroll your newsfeed
Scroll your newsfeed
Build a shelter
Build a shelter
Just keep on scrolling
Just keep on scrolling
Just keep on scrolling
Scroll
Scroll
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4. |
I Take Photos
02:40
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I take photos
Of the people I love
Because I have to
And memories depend on you
I take photos
Of my naked body
To track the progress of time
As it bears its effects on me
Oh that sweet rush
Oh that sweet, sweet rush
I take photos
Of the places I go
As my staying power fades
I can live down a memory hole
I take photos
Because I have to
We depend on you
We suspend you
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5. |
Moss Grows Fat
06:49
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One lazy Monday afternoon
A rare breed of its kind
I submit myself to the earth
And realign my spine
Moss grows fat upon my skin
Rolling clouds drift by
Sinking slow into soft dirt
Rest my weary eyes
Is it all just a dream?
Is it all just a dream?
Is it all just a dream?
I awoke to find myself still asleep
I was living as I died
Orchestrate our imperfect plan
And we all get by just fine
Is it all just a dream?
Is it all just a dream?
Is it all just a dream?
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Boxface San Francisco, California
Trans musician & activist on Crass Lips records
Constantly experimenting with the limits of sound and composition. Avante-garde punk
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