Ank

by Jack Dump

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03:00
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03:41
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02:55
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02:52
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credits

released October 5, 2013

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Jack Dump Toronto, Ontario

Jack Dump ascends into Rainbow Jackson, the caustic Demiurge.

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Track Name: Just Kill the Dog
I walked through branches in the way that caught my skin and ripped my face,
Submitting lesions, feeling curious about the novelty.
Don't let it out. It's just too caustic at the moment.
Feeling underwhelmed, you take the rubbing alcohol and drink the bottle.
Down you go into a shameful spiral.

And now these woods are getting darker as those red eyes start to bloom
Into a static of field of carnivores arranged into a
Perfect, spherical alignment mirroring Earth's gravity.
I understand their ill intent. They want to make these lesions bigger.
Cast aside the grim, illusion person.

Oh God, I put the dog down. (Just kill the dog.)
I gotta kill the bloodhound. (Just kill the dog.)
I gotta get the high ground. (Just kill the dog.)
I think I'm in the wrong town. (Just kill the dog.)

I'm thinking any path will do me now 'cause choice is just a myth
And all the alcohol that's bleeding out is ravaging the dogs.
They dive their teeth into my soft, carotid artery,
Get drunk on my high B.A.C. and then they die 'cause they got poisoned.
Fix my neck wound with some leaves and tree sap.

Oh God, I put the dog down. (Just kill the dog.)
I gotta kill the bloodhound. (Just kill the dog.)
I gotta get the high ground. (Just kill the dog.)
I think I'm in the wrong town. (Just kill the dog.)
Track Name: Cadenza Decorated with Rabbit Heads
Something awakes down in the sleeping mire.
Armed with a caulking gun and a lurid smile,
I brush past the fenceposts weapon at my side,
ready to strike the heads of all my enemies.
I have to cleanse all the rodents that dig up the roots
That lay between the channels of the earth
And hoist them by their little mammal necks
and make examples out of them.

Holding a rabbit by its little neck. FIngers compressing
Will always cause a rush. You look in its quivering little rabbit eye.
It must experience a modicum of harm.
If there is no senseless killing for the sake of killing what is it to be a man alive? You must compare yourself constantly to the endless dead among you. There's some contrast.

La la la la

Take a cadenza I stole from the docks.
Fix it with rope in an ornamental mode.
I cover the top with fetid underbrush.
It must be working because I haven't slept in days.
I must arrange all the headless bodies of the animals that I decapitated last. Then, I will have good fortune and my body will be cleansed of all this doubt.
Track Name: Debasement Apartment
I'm alright in this debasement apartment.

Overtures from the brace
of carpaccio
Facing over her lacing
Dimaggio bases
Like Versace or
Bocce Ball, Johnny and Hadji,
Y'all watching all balls
In your skull as they
Rotate all low taste
Comes Poe-Face for
$3.59 you get dough paste
So go waste the race on
a case list with baseless
Late statements that deface men
Disgracing encasements
In case inner space makes
Adjacent.

Spatula hands congratulate
Draculaman getting back
To his Plan Nine vascular
Bands like denying
The last Scion of flatulent
Sands while buying the eye
And a castle of glands from
A Siamese lion
I'm tying up loose ends like
Tubes in my girlfriend,
Like shoes and their laces
And flying in the face boosting
Rubes in the Moose Den
Excuse then the ruse that I try to defuse when I
Come on these loose men

I endear like Kandiru
A can-do canned attitude
Hero planned latitudes zero
In on the platitudinous
Fear of what it has
To do with this beard
Fixed with a mirror that
Sears on a skin that is not true
I spearhead the whim that
The deer's head has kin and
The sheer sin of pigs in
A mint tin of fierce gin
Brakes in the basement
For the sake of my fake chin
Elation that's weird in the
haste of this nation

Piercing the gears
Comes a seer west from
New York with a beer gut
For Jew pork like stomaching
The afterbirth before
Hear best you're fearless
Your laughter mirth a
Nasty test for math occurred
And as stuck up as you are
Like Bill Maher on a press junket
You fuck up not one but address
Our Azucar as the Czar of
The funk-sucking ash bucket
Bucking the trend as a luck
Rending muckraker from
Mantucket

I think the penicillin killin'
And Acetylsalacylic Acid
Passing the classification ocaasional
Spastic action cracks in
Microdermabraision's agents
The actor redacts the doctor
Looking for his patience
Fantasia in A-Major
Aphasia and Hip Displasia
It displays you makes you lazy
Like a low-phasing bolt laser
Watchin logs of your
Favourite clips of the dog from Frasier
I'll amaze you before I mace you

I'm seeing human beings pass
Along the tidal fountain
Peeing in it with glee
And skiing down the final
Mountain mounting a horse
That mouths extortions
In its muzzle doesn't
make abortion's course a
Dozen sports for
Hoarding all that open source
Software soft hair dropped
There at a loft fair all the
Lost air in your posture
Makes sense your a doctor
You can't stop her offer her
A law firm coffee or top sperm
You're her father
Track Name: I Depend on Filth Around Me
Huff paint from plastic grocery bags.
Call local college kids big fags.
Take time to wash my tainted part.
Make rancid toilet paper art.

I depend on filth around me.
Save me from the daily grind
That you'll find from behind.
I depend on filth around me.

Take all pretension and stuff it with reason.
All of this cash is a cousin of treason.
See it all burning.
Look all around you. Damn you.
See your desire. Let it confound you.
Drown you.
If we're speaking on the record.
I would like to say you're fucking dumb.

Make time with gutter prostitutes.
What God does coitus constitute?
The second coming of virus
As told on modern papyrus.

I depend on filth around me.
Makes me feel so authentic.
Suck some dick. Then, get sick.
I depend on filth around me.

Take out the laundry.
Steal all the mirrors.
Pawn them for cocaine.
Living in fear of
Men dressed in blue.
Balls held on a platform. Flat form.
It's just a beating. Work up a sad storm.
Sad norm.
If we're speaking on the records
I would like to say I'm fucking dead.

Get crabs and mighty syphilis
From sewers in Metropolis.
I feel like fucking Saladin.
I'm very cosmopolitan.

I depend on filth around me.
Take me to this land of bliss.
What is this? Human piss?
I depend on filth around me.

Get out the six pack.
Drunk up the mother,
Got from that lisping,
Jive turkey brother.
I'm fucking normal.
Why can't you see it? Be it.
You're all the sick ones.
You fucking need it.
Feed it.
If we're speaking on the record
I would like to say there's nothing here.
Track Name: Why Can't I Relate?
Raid the grease traps for their nourishment and to make soap. I can be someone new. I'm thinking about taking you on top of the big avenue at night.
Throwing cinder blocks and swiping all mannequin heads. Oh, the good times we had. I'm looking again. Feeling bad. My second dimension is clad to fight.

Why can't I relate? I must be wrong. I must be sick. There is no pain. Just rhetoric.

All my life, I've been so damn alone 'cause I'm a freak. At least, that's what I'm told. What sentiment gun do I hold? One second to go till the Golden Dawn.
Elementary school beat those facts hard into my brain. Kids said I was insane for talking about real pain. The thing that I should hope to gain is gone.
Track Name: (I'm Writing) A Song I Think You'll Relate To
I'm writing a song I think you'll relate to
'Cause we are leading very similar lives.
First we are born and then we meander
And then if we're lucky, someday we will die.

When you came out the mouth that's south on Mom
And you were dominated. Ominous great commas rules the game.
On a list, your stupid name.
You tried to think. It wasn't really there and so
Instead you scared in a feeling from the pit.
Meekly crying, "What is it? Fuck."

And when you lived you probably fell in love
And it caused pain that's unimaginable from routine decay.
Nothing good is meant to stay.
And you were sad or maybe you were dead.
You thought a lot about the place you go when you're no longer you.
Maybe that's what's really true. Fuck.

I'm writing a song that you can relate to.
I cannot believe you winning over me.
I'm a temporary God.
Track Name: You, and Specifically You
Out beside your window pane,
Jacking off on your porch.
Howling 'bitch' at the top of my lungs.
Getting caught by the police.

I'm the one. I feel it in the pieces of your bathroom mirror.
They cannot keep me from my rigid pattern of fidelity.
It's you, and specifically you.

I knew I had found a goddess
When I saw you buying gum
At the shittiest bodega
Known for selling children drugs.

I'm the one. I feel it in the ridges of the shards of crack rock
Embedded in my forehead, when you threw that vial at my forehead,
You, and specifically you.

You're all mine. You're everything.
Track Name: Vladivostok
How many people are out there suffering
While you sit and jack off to internet porn?
Think of the good you could be doing
In your neighbourhood
Instead of looking at pictures
Of deformed newborns.
Getting into Wikipedia or PDF's
Of pedophile media, the files as easy
As shit to access. Ain't
No tactic that'll put it on a blacklist
Like a lactating crack lass who's
Packed full of black dick.
It's human traffic. We get 'em
Fresh from
Croatia, Ukraine, Peru and most
Of Southeast Asia and occasionally
Australia 'cause smut's an
International language for
Your alien genitalia.

Take a second, suck a second dick,
A chick'll tuck her fucking lip
And lick a little spittle off the
Tip on top your diddle. Bitch,
You need money and everyone's
A voyeur, watching you watch
Me as I get to destroy her,
Not just physically, but I tear
Her to pieces on the inside,
But is it clean as I spare
Her the feces of how her dad died?
And how she cried for forty
Nights 'cause Thalidomide
Meant that her infant was doomed
By Union Carbide

And so she came here, looking for
A better life.
She could be a seamstress, a street-sweep
Or a mob wife.
She meets the right people who run
The fun underworld, where girls
Gum for butt chum and a hundred
Cum pearls.
My moral compass tells me
That rump in this rumpus
Has bumps on her hump
With the texture of hummus or something.
It's easy to see STD's when
You freeze frame and she came
Exclaiming her c-section's erection.
Stitches came loose. She could
Use another infection.

I'd sooner ruin the loom of fate than fade on something tumorous
The satiation's education swoons to something humorous
A room to list the humanistic fist that kisses like a mystic
Sloppily the sauce gets off of me insisting like heuristic
Gold mines hold nine crimes in your cold mind
The bold lines assigned to a kind of rewind time that
That old binds souls to the goals of mould rinds
I told my parole officer to offer soft wine
And confiscate the cops sign to obfuscate hate
In the lopsided sophomoric stop-and-frisk cock block
Jock rock locked the box with a cum sock
It bates me lately to Vladivostok.
Track Name: Bombed Out Chinese Mall
Rubbing my semen all up on the wall of the entrance to the bombed-out Chinese mall.
Rubbing my semen all up on the wall to the entrance to the bombed-out Chinese mall.

The immigrants settled in this godforsaken place I call home and
I'm feeling it, karmic retribution for their souls. I took them.
I ate their babies.

I came upon here. Oh yes, the time was right, six years ago.
Stroking my beard, standing out in the rain with evil thoughts in my head. Get out the knife.

Slaughtering kids and the man doesn't care because they're foreigners. Scattering Mandarin and Vietnamese convenience store owners. This is my house.

I sat on my throne made of the heads of the men who dared to hinder me. Walking the halls on a typical night. They're massive and empty. Devoid of life.

Moving my fist. I think I'm visiting ghosts in my crotch area. And look at me! 'Cause I'm the king. I'm the host of most bacteria. Am I a God?
Track Name: Miscarry
She's not an animal. She barely moves around.
She's tree-like, filled with sap.
Her roots are on the ground.
She's only temporary, crying from the heroin withdrawal.
Hand is rising, rigid from the forced contractions.

She's gotta get up really early for her job.
Another day another visit to the mob.
And she's not powerless.
She's on the side of teenage pregnancy.
'Cause some guy told her That her fetus has its mother's eyes.

She's gonna miscarry.

She's desperate, clutching fat.
Her knees are inward bound
The swathes of sluicing strands anoint her pubic mound
And she told everybody. Mom and Dad, Aunt Vicky and her wife
And the mailman. He will be so disappointed.
Track Name: Nesting Dolls
Looking out to hell when you danced in Sodom.
Sin just caught 'em. Pray to August.
Teenagers fuck and pull out at the exact right moment,
Hoping that they'll prevent the scourge of teenage pregnancy.
But if he pees inside the she there is a chance they'll be on MTV.
So lube her up and spit 'em out, the camera crew is here to film you
Meeting eye to sideways eye, electric networks here to thrill you

Hitting pulses in the Midwestern region.
In this season, I think they'll relate to the
Girl in Altoona, Pennsylvania
Who got knocked when she wanted to emulate our little show.
And hopefully the networkers will put more tiny women in the know.
We got a lot of merch to sell and nothing sells quite like subversive
Packing all the human trash. Recycling becomes recursive.

Like Nesting dolls,
There's a person in a person in a mom.
It's the one.
Solemn, Stopped, Expressionless
And it's moving on

I'm into all that fuzz
And I'm moving backward.
Hoping for a chance to get you off.
Sucking on your clit.
Having some fun. Not enough?
You suffer into your armpit.
So sad.

Pink curtains on the nightstand.
Pregnant belly glistening in the dark
Like a bottle in the park.
That is thrown by Iraq veterans who are crippled
'Cause of napalm.

Bringing up the time when you dance for pennies.
Have you an words of wisdom
For all the girls who might take you as a good example
Of how to live a life besmirched
By hallmarks of the poor.
And if you find the very mind
That made this thought is rotten to the core.
You're trying to deny the fact that you don't like your television.
Sit the kid in front of there
Before you do his circumcision.

Making sure the baby will grow resentful.
Uneventful times in childhood
Will give way to a searing adult bitterness.
Maybe the boy will find his peace in psychotherapy.
But if he takes the speed and weed, then he will need a
Bigger pharmacy.
So, all I'm saying is I'm will to be instigating killing.
Maybe you should fall down stairs or eat a tub of penicillin.
Track Name: Let's Drink This Gin
Preaching like a man who's just come back from a Denny's,
Bloated like a puffer fish spawn.
He's got his gills encapsulated in mucus
Like a vomitous pawn.

Smoking crack and raving like Charlie Manson's father.
Peeing on the local high school
And then collapsing in a heap
An almost choking on excessive drool.

Feeling so free. I'm just an edit away.
Me, I'm so lucky. I'm a big softie at heart.
Let's drink this gin.

Eking out the devils from cracks beneath the carpet,
Squishing them like soft, insect heads.
They're coming at me with
Their eyes shining purple and a light minty brown.

Kissing up to Satan with Dave and all his allies.
Making all the checkmarks for Hell.
I think I nailed the interview
And my social demeanour is OK.
Track Name: Visitors
Lock it up lock it up
Here comes the trouble
A run on the bank is gonna
Burst your bubble
Going home to the Stone age
With Barney and Betty Rubble
And double the telescopic stubble
Like Edwin Hubble motherfucker
You think that just because I'm homeless
I can't own this domeless loam
On the Ole Miss
Campus or amp this ampersand
Stand that's the dampest champ
That Tampa's ever canvassed?
Like my ancestor. Incest
Or Manchester Anxious like
Pants messer mantis-like
Plan guesser manic semantics
In a panic Atlantic mercantilism
Bids in some antics like
Tantric

Sex in a second set of
Mexican tech stocks on a whim
Carlos Slim bought at cost
Boston Red Sox
He didn't say how many or if
Any of them would see their
Families again then he sold
Stock in Redbox.
Gotta getcha mother in that Netflix
Or you should should get fixed
So you don't have no dicks
Or no clits you'll make
The obits an opus of cold fish
Soulless the whole list subsists
Off the bold fist of death
And his old bliss like meth
In your mouth.

Thinking of a chicken like in Strozsek
Sinking in a kitchen where the kitschy thing
Is Richie Rich, a bitchy king.
Gitchigumi tumor consumer Akuma boomer
Can't accumulate a boogaloo
You can do good or humor fools.

Patch a cache of magical madrigal
Gadget hatches catching passion I can tack
A stack of ratchet attachments and pack a
Wallop like a Dalek who's a solid alcoholic
A rollicking, molly-coddled bottle I
Call Jackson Pollock.

A la mode. It's a coda controller
For Kodachrome.
Soda risotta canola cola catacombs
Angola golem a colon consoling
Cold in Patagonia
A donor got a boner from the corner store begonias.
And now I own ya
Not gonna phone ya.
You're just a loner.So huff ammonia.
Spike it with bleach you got a mustard gas
Blast like the ass on the back of that chick from Red Sonja.

Lock it up. Lock it up.
Here comes the devil.
Hand in hand all the damned
Forsake the land and revel
Dishevelled shovelling shit
Like Aaron Neville
Several times I hit the
Rhymes on the level of a
Jesus-like rap star not Yeezy
That's too easy
Like a backwards racecar
I'm a palindrome raft far
Black barbacks bar me and the
Fast car singing
Tracy Chapman it's a nineties
Thing that's happening.
Track Name: My Skin
I'm beat up, living disgrace, 'cause I live in a crate outside the bus stop.
I fucked up too many times, now I'm nearly a blind man in a lunchbox.
I'm waiting for something to feed with carnivorous teeth underneath
My skin My skin.
I'm waiting for something to tear all the sweat glands and hair from
My skin My skin My

Skin glows a luminous moon, showing up around noon in the Arctic.
Imagine pointed incisors and the exercise will make me heartsick.
I'm waking up to the tip that's atomically split the slit in
My skin My skin.
I'm looking into those eyes with a grim enterprise
Inside of my skin.

I'm a scratching hard. Finger sawteeth bore a hole.

I'm broken, shattered apart like a chick at a bar who's a widow.
Paint thinner, you is my friend, 'cause of how you will bend my eyeball window.
I'm happy chugging away The Remains of the Day abraiding
My skin My skin
I'm picking bugs from my teeth and the shit on my sheath underneath
My skin my

Skin melts like American cheese with a brilliant ease inside a skillet
Because the voice in my head says that if it's not dead I gotta kill it.
Bring forth the haunted exacto knife that's gonna extract a life from
My skin My skin
Make sure the ghosts in my blood are of hate and not love
Inside of my skin.

I'm precious like a gold brick that is six inches thick and made of rubies.
My flakes, for commodity's sake are economy's stake and who could you be?
Are you a demon or pet? 'Cause I tend to forget. I'm sweating
My skin My skin.
Or maybe you are an angel who's sent to deranged men in sin.
My skin my
Skin tears the carpet of hair that exists in the air of my surroundings.
I trick the head of my dick like a basketball pick and it's confounding.
And soon the whole thing is off like a pink molotov exploding
My skin My skin
I'm fine to the power of nine 'cause my death is sublime
Inside of my skin.
Track Name: Those Little Castles in Her Hair
Those little castles in her hair.
And how she promised she'd be mine.
And I imagined love divine
But it was all a fucking crock.

Body bags are not cheap.
That's why I got cellophane.
Does the job in a pinch.
Why'd you think I'm insane?

Those little castles in her hair.
The princess of her own demise
And how she slept with other guys
After I declared my love.

All the relevant signs
Flashing focus at me.
Taunting me with their light.
Exposing what I can't see.

Those little castles in her hair
And thinking just how radiant.