1. |
Single Engine Cessna
02:40
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I've drifted on a thousand walks before
And it's looking like I'll drift a thousand more
I've left the shallow reservoir behind
And before I'll lose my face I'll lose my mind
A beacon of emotion, a terrifying leader
Fly your single engine Cessna to a point inside the ether
Your sense leave you in the stratosphere
You could be alive or you could just be here
The pressure on your torso fuselage
The price you pay for getting out of dodge
Don't deny me brother, like Jesus said to Peter
Fly your single engine Cessna to a point inside the ether
Lost in the deep indigo spurning the void
Chaste, pleasureless, disciplined, barely annoyed
The freedom that you sought has turned to dust
It goes beyond the funds depleted from your trust
The memory of endless option left in store
Is replaced by filthy claps of slamming doors
Your accountability is just a show of theatre,
Fly your single engine Cessna to a point inside the ether
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2. |
The Sycophant
03:22
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Out past the quarry, beyond the hinterlands
There lies the sycophant without a God
Nobody knows his cause for faithlessness
His toiling maintenance of the Land of Nod
I have to praise him, I have to praise his name
But I can't deny the feeling that I'm just the same
In darkened cloisters, there races the penitent
A tortured sentiment across his face
He knows the verses, vulgar and formally
But more importantly, he knows his place
I have to praise him, I have to praise his name
But I can't deny the feeling that I'm just the same
The broken body, the scars of poverty
No soul of property to call his own
The Sycophant feels a sickness unto death
There is no final breath when he dies alone
I have to praise him, I have to praise his name
But I can't deny the feeling that I'm just the same
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3. |
Breathing Corpse
03:11
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Think of all the things that happen while your sleeping
Your discontinuity is all that's keeping
Universal order from a-manifesting on this earth
Every day you build a structure that gets broken
Things you should have written down were only spoken
Every night, a death and every morning, your rebirth
And you're just a breathing corpse with temporary sentience,
Just a breathing corpse aspiring to be more
Than a breathing corpse with a chip on it's should and a stubborn heart
That's what the breathing corpse visions are for.
Luckily a-nowadays your corpse is recorded
Every single piece of data is reported
To a wealthy loner in a barren electronic shell
He will use your body to abandon the process
Split his mind in half like the Red Sea's Moses
Immortality is just a different kind of Hell.
And you're just a breathing corpse with temporary sentience,
Just a breathing corpse aspiring to be more
Than a breathing corpse with a chip on it's should and a stubborn heart
That's what the breathing corpse visions are for.
If I never go to sleep, then I won't die
If I never go to sleep, then I won't die
If I never go to sleep, then I won't die
I want to stay alive
You can never transcend imperfection
Your entire being is a misdirection
From the cosmic essence that your ego's too fragile to bear
Little did you know your subconscious is bleeding
Droplets of your soul are fast depleting
Living in the dreamscape too far gone to care.
And you're just a breathing corpse with temporary sentience,
Just a breathing corpse aspiring to be more
Than a breathing corpse with a chip on it's should and a stubborn heart
That's what the breathing corpse visions are for.
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4. |
Oh! Mammon
03:09
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Hell's legions of the dead
Are showing up at 3AM for my timely amusement
Bearing, much to my amusement, all of my carnal desires
Damned faces will change
Back and forth between great beauty and decayed maladaptives
Beckons to me in a fashion that commands the respect of his fires
Oh! Mammon! Cut Me Open!
Flay my skin and leave me broken!
Drape my organs on your shoulders!
I will be your chalice-holder!
I'll sacrifice the rest of my life
For the brief moments of the day
I find pleasurable
Leisure is worth it.
Start. Hit a little hit.
Drink a little drink till you know the golden face of the master.
Feeding on blight and old disaster blessed is the mouth of the king.
Eat. Eat a little more.
Eat so much your body succumbs to the depth of your fetish
Flesh makes if past the final edit, the remaining expulsion will sing.
Oh! Mammon! Cut Me Open!
Flay my skin and leave me broken!
Drape my organs on your shoulders!
I will be your chalice-holder!
I'll sacrifice the rest of my life
For the brief moments of the day
I find pleasurable
Leisure is worth it.
Guts, shuffling all around
Jiggling like a big ol bowl of Texas spaghetti
Splayed out on the ol' machete living inside my spine
Nerves drill their little heads
Outside of my skin and arrange an elaborate webbing
Think I know where the endings are heading, down to the devil's mine.
Oh! Mammon! Cut Me Open!
Flay my skin and leave me broken!
Drape my organs on your shoulders!
I will be your chalice-holder!
I'll sacrifice the rest of my life
For the brief moments of the day
I find pleasurable
Leisure is worth it.
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5. |
You're All You Need
04:43
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Arrogant. I know that people find me arrogant.
Those people are simply irrelevant.
They're missing every crucial element.
And I don't mind the fact they fear me,
But still I'd like to have them near me.
Alien. I walk among you as an alien.
Although my features as mammalian.
You would not hear my words as salient.
You'd hear the language of a demon,
But demons need folks to believe in.
Why even bother to know anyone?
Children take heed. You're all you need!
All conversation is wasted on them.
Don't fuel their greed. You're all your need!
Innerspace. All of my friends are in my innerspace.
They're trapped here so they wear a happy face
To turn my cage into my special place
And feel the crowd's humble elation
For self-imposing isolation
Tragedy, please do not see this as a tragedy
My little subjects call me majesty
And I indulge their sense of pageantry
Although I think about it some days
If they were flesh and not just thought waves
Why even bother to know anyone?
Children take heed. You're all you need!
All conversation is wasted on them.
Don't fuel their greed. You're all your need!
Separate. My little subjects start to separate
Become the people I pretend to hate
Gain form and leave me to proliferate
They're copies I'm the one and only
I simply wish it weren't so lonely
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6. |
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I walk through the rich neighbourhood at midnight
Stroking my knife, thinking of the good life
I walk through the rich neighbourhood at midnight
Peering inside thinking where I might hide
I dream a little dream of violent home invasion
Set up my little station
Till the cops roll by my windows and see my wavin'
I walk through the rich neighbourhood at midnight
Thinking I might set it up as a class fight
I walk through the rich neighbourhood at midnight
'Cause I'm so white I get away with my spite
Despite my little dreams all I see are families
Disturbs my fantasy
'Cause I could never dream of doing what they do to me
See all the toys out in the yard
I marvel at their children's objects
And what they'll just discard
Envy, the kind that makes you kill
But I keep it sober
Pathetic little thrill
I walk through the rich neighbourhood at midnight
Looking for light, creeping like a parasite
I walk through the rich neighbourhood at midnight
Starting a fight with myself at the jobsite
I drink the bruises off and sleep inside the trailer
Wake up to Mr. Taylor
Joking that he should call me his neighbour
I walk through the rich neighbourhood at midnight
And it's alright that I won't get the good life
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7. |
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I am not here. Body's out of time.
But I'm still here. They took my flesh and not my mind.
Head to fingers, so divisive, to which part am I submissive?
Something's missing but I don't miss it much
Sedentary. I can't tell if I'm alive.
Bodies beg me, leave yourself and make your tithe.
Peace comes through it's own rejection
Use your weakness as protection
Everlasting vivisection helps me
Live in between consciousness and where it ends
The humming of ions is my one and only friend
I travel through circuits of corrupted electricity
The world of not quite darkness is not enough
But it's enough for me
Watch them sleeping, unaware of their decay
Organs weeping, cry themselves to death someday
Each new moment is a sight where
You dreams self-fulfilling nightmares
Visions of your crown of white hair come
No use changing. It was always going to be this way.
In the twilight all the damned can do is pray.
Slaughter me, Archangel Michael
Purge me from this endless cycle
Sacrifice my likeness like a lamb's
Live in between consciousness and where it ends
The humming of ions is my one and only friend
I travel through circuits of corrupted electricity
The world of not quite darkness is not enough
But it's enough for me
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8. |
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Down on my knees hope that I'm a good citizen
Harmless and innocent and not in the way
Let me bear witness to hard labour's medicine
And though I am reticent I still have to pray
Sweat is the coin of the body inelegant
Anti-intelligent and driven by fate
All that you're worth is the love you can sell again
And within every element is the subtext of hate
All that really matters is what you produce
So ride the little line between creation and abuse
And when every penny's in your progeny's bellies
Then you may die
Everything you know about the spirit is material
Hear it in the gears of your very own burial
And when the bacteria will make you inferior
You'll be alright
Give of yourself till yourself is a revenant
Your ribcage is evident and stretching your skin
Build yourself up for the pieces to dissipate
And what you anticipate is without the within
Your blood will spill out in rivers of providence
And even more prominent are the jewels in your eyes
Your organs unravel and form and anomaly
A fabric for family, your corpse is the prize.
All that really matters is what you produce
So ride the little line between creation and abuse
And when every penny's in your progeny's bellies
Then you may die
Everything you know about the spirit is material
Hear it in the gears of your very own burial
And when the bacteria will make you inferior
You'll be alright
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9. |
Porcelain Cowboy
03:52
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Like a porcelain cowboy. A cheap little fake
His stoic expression, so easy to break
He's a sentinel's silence, alone on his perch
The land he surveils, he can't even search
He thinks he's a hero 'cause he's shaped like a kero
But he's trapped in the coffin of his own rigid form
He wants to protect you, but he's just an object
Little porcelain cowboy, just wants to be warm
Like a porcelain cowboy, his stillness a curse
His miracle sentience is all for the worse
If he summons the lighting from which all life spits
He'll fall from his outpost and shatter to bits
And in his undoing his pieces take notice
Denied their assembly, they suffer the Hell
Of disintegration, the worst non-existence
Little porcelain cowboy cannot suffer well
Like a porcelain cowboy, his soul mass-produced
For every one broken, two more have their youth
And a similar crisis, repeats and expands
The answer escaping their porcelain hands
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Jack Dump Toronto, Ontario
Jack Dump ascends into Rainbow Jackson, the caustic Demiurge.
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