1. |
Punk Rock Kids
02:53
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Punk rock kids,
Abortions
Of a birth they never agreed to,
Sacrifices to a god
They never believed in.
Original sin,
Hopelessness.
My best friend.
All clenched fists,
Punk rock kids.
My best friend,
In our skins,
Tied to the bumper,
Rammed into the wall
Again and again
For our honor
And ambitions.
Children of men.
Straw-thin wrists,
My best friend.
Children of men,
Raised in famine
Canaries in the mine
For the umpteenth time,
Bludgeoned by obligation,
Betrayed by kin.
Furitive eyes,
And elephant skin.
My best friend,
Punk rock kids,
Children of men.
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2. |
A Womb / A Cage
02:59
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I'm only real when you're looking at me.
I come outside when you tell me to.
I yell sometimes, but no one hears me.
I'm always standing behind you.
You hold my face under water.
You hold your hand over my mouth.
You hold my face under and OH MY
God, its so bright outside.
There's a dresser in your room where you keep me.
There's a crack in your floorboards I slip through.
I'm always in your rear view mirror,
Looking right at you.
There's a dark hall you always stare down.
I'm in the shadows where you can't see.
I'm in the space between your eyes.
You're never gonna catch me.
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3. |
My Tower
01:10
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If I could, I would
Build my tower far away
And not leave the place for days,
Erect a sign, early dawn,
That said "Keep off the lawn".
If I could,
I would do that.
Put a window in the wall
Just to scowl at.
I would take up painting
With my time there,
Throw my own blood on the canvas
Just for the dramatic flair,
And, in my tower,
I would know the pleasure
Of going to sleep.
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4. |
Accident
05:44
|
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You weren't paying attention,
You got a kid killed.
(ad infinitium, etc. etc.)
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5. |
Wasted Youth
04:04
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No one much likes kids,
Cussed and stole and lied, they did,
Sleeping under bridges,
Bastards of the world we live.
All our toys were living people,
Throwing bottles at pedophiles,
Crumbs on others' sofas,
High watching X-files.
And if mine mouth shall lie,
Please sow it shut with wires tied,
And if mine lustful eyes shall stray,
Please throw mine lustful eyes away.
And if my mind thinks something gay,
Please, run a jackhammer through my face,
And if I come in after curfew, God,
Please burn the neighborhood down.
Jesus died for my sins,
So I could sleep around and still go to Heaven,
Staying out past twelve,
Filled up to the brim.
Beans and franks out of styrofoam bowls,
Point-blank stares at our point-blank souls.
Such miserables as me and you,
We live much the way that animals do.
I feel as though everything
Has been lost on me,
Pragmatic morals passed down from
After school specials on TV.
Never caught-up in the gleam
Of the twenty-first century,
Such values are so foreign to me,
Our lives are such purely physical things.
So now I'm sober and one day older,
And there's still nothing that I'd have to offer,
Just another brick on my shoulder,
And a floor that's a little bit colder.
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6. |
Homeo
04:03
|
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For those who seek out ghosts
Or patterns in tea leaves,
The messages therein
Are never as they seem.
Those dim illuminations
Are few and far between.
Rarer still is a sense
Of what the fuck they mean.
I know what night brings,
I know the feeling,
Unflinching eyes fixed
On the ceiling.
What truth was ever snatched
Out of a crystal ball?
Well, I might wager
There has never been truth to be snatched at all.
Prayers not flung
Far enough to reach,
You see, fall back,
Line-up on the beach.
Drifting ashore
Like whales from the sea,
Spread-out, immobile,
And unable to breathe.
I know now
Such trivial words
Addressed to no one
Go forth unheard.
From the mouths of their speaker,
Go up to the atmosphere,
Hit their apex
And fall back down here.
See yonder boy
Hung from a tree,
Note his bloated, blue,
Broken body.
And when you see that boy,
Come shed a tear for me,
For that boy was the only thing
Of value to me.
The fruit is rotten,
And so it is said,
The child is dead
And soon forgotten.
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7. |
Parked Car
02:50
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One day you won't know where you are,
One day you won't know where you are,
You'll be in sweat pants, wearing socks without shoes,
Eating pickles from the jar,
And you'll have no clue where you are.
One day you'll forget what you've learned,
One day you'll forget what you've learned,
Left with notes from yourself you can no longer read,
And the remains of all you've burned,
You'll have no clue what you have learned.
One day your car's not going to start,
One day your car's not going to start,
And you'll try to remember where you had wanted to go,
But will have already forgot,
One day you won't be quite as smart.
One day your parents are going to die,
One day your parents are going to die,
And you may kick and scream, you may protest,
You may even cry,
But your parents are going to die.
One day you'll recognize your body as a finite series of physical machinations
Moreso than just as a vehicle for your consciousness,
And you may try to argue against this,
You may even insist,
But you'll wish you had never realized this.
One day you'll run out of air.
One day you'll run out of air.
One day you'll run out of air.
One day you'll run out of air.
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