Haphazard with the way I lay waste/
To my fragile insides so decayed in their cage/
I wanna, wake with stakes in a world full of hammers/
And avoid being nailed to the Earth as a cadaver/
I’ve been small city stone skipping, long drive throne gripping/
Spokes smoking in the open, target practice, lone pigeon/
And all my heroes hold Caligula coins in their front pockets/
I should’ve known better when they spoke of prophets/
That didn’t speak of solace, they only spoke of blame/
And all the golden objects, they held so unashamed/
Dizzy in the way that you collaborate with deities/
Dancing in a field of smoke behold the crown of peonies/
You found your dream it seems, it’s written in the key of E/
But that’ll never leave you free and it won’t leave you peacefully/
No healing, no trust, no feeling, no rush/
No glass ceiling touched, no dividends/
No stealing, no fuss, no squealing, no budge/
No reeling in the flood, no innocence/
Spoke with smoke lingering around this nose again/
Cold provokes all the memories from Slocum’s Den/
The coat grew thin and the clocks punched steadily/
Outstretched hand trying to make one a friend to me/
Wrote a grand opus that I floated off for 8 or 9/
Thought that I could fill my quota choking out a couple lines/
Mea culpa Caroline, terrified of glaring eyes/
Wondering if I could sterilize the mic with errant time/
They used to call me a king/
They used to a call me a pro, they haven’t called me since spring/
And when I wake with a goal, I mostly hang and I swing/
From all the ropes that I’ve been threading in the absence of wings/
I’d take it back if I could/
But now I’m wringing out my 20s through a rag as I should/
It’s all meat, no muscle, all strive, no hustle/
All speed no buckles, all iron in me/
It’s all speech, no bubbles, all crime, no cudgel/
All leaves, no rustle, no lying in me/
I held back but I still can’t stop/
Fuck a drought, brought the rain to LA with me ock/
I’m getting better ever passing year, there’s no doubt/
I’m pulling better shit outta my ass than you do out your mouth/
Speaking of mouths watch yours when you address me/
I’ll take a page from my opps book and crack your headpiece/
You puff chest deadly, with upset medleys/
I bust nuts heavily across your girls bedsheets/
No one can test me off a bean or a Presley/
If they lean off the mezzanine I’ll push and say they threatened me/
Can’t get the best of me, unless you’re invested in me/
Last dude that want it caught a buck and sorry texted me/
Love me or hate me it’s still an obsession/
Fuck what they paid me this ain’t a profession/
Mode of expression, a hopeless invention/
Reap what you sew when they stow your intentions/
Eat crow when you know they are fessing/
The older you grow you should hold all your lessons/
Used to be known as Friday/
The heyday or my day or it’s miles away/
I don’t give a fuck about nostalgia all the times splayed/
Across the dining room table with the candles lit/
I’ll get the banners split, and cross the lines you hammered in/
Take it as some Sarin spit, or tearing out your larynx bitch/
It’s unfair, I don’t care, I’m so fuego/
As loose as a whale’s vagina, San Diego/
There ain’t no saints around these parts/
And even in three bars, I pull the full retard/
The dundada, that rejects Prada/
Never drinks Teramana, sometimes smokes zaza/
Nueva Jork til they bury me/
Best believe when I say there’s no swords that could parry me/
Ma dukes carried me, pops seemed scary to me/
Staring out the lair to see a world that I could barely reach/
It’s all hate, no love, all skates, no rugs/
All fate, no plugs, no giving in/
It’s all stakes, no shrugs, all shakes, no drugs/
All thanks, no mud, no quitting then/
The title of this one is a good indication of what’s in store: wonderfully bleak ambient music conjuring funereal atmospheres. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 29, 2022
