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1. |
Choose
03:45
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Stir-fried Wikipedia
Tell my friends to stop the nonsense
It’s getting late and I’m getting weary
And I feel myself spiraling down
In the ground, never to be found
I’m tired of this disproportionate existence
Somebody help me get down to a bone
Nobody wants me for their affection
Would it be best to take it all away?
Self-esteem has failed me
My faults are so clear
Please take me away to another world
Take care of me as I die
And the llama roars and roars and roars
Standing on the floor, trying to survive
But it all gets stronger and stronger
Have the baby crawling on the ceiling
But I want to kick it – it’s not so easy
I know how it’s, what it’s doing to me
I’m so dumb that I can never change
That’s what the guys say every day
But will I ever get out of this hole
Will I become something much more desirable?
I want to choose my own fate
But I don’t want to be this mess
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2. |
Standards
04:07
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Here’s to good hopes again
I don’t want to fall down and bust my chin
They’re probably looking just to spite me
But my guitar is all I need
Sometimes, I yearn for the coast
Rumbling underground in some roast
Hope I don’t get shot down by some guys
In a full room, live to their eyes
But I can’t hold my head up high
It gives off too much of a lie
Drop dead, drop dead on the floor
Somebody tell it to stop growling
Here’s to good hopes tonight
I don’t want to wither off and die
Sitting alone at the bar
Trying to find something to take me far
Away from these miserable realities
I find a girl instead of me
This deadbeat town in the middle of somewhere
The dulcimer lighting up the midnight air
These standards are just too high
For my hands to hold on to
I’ll tumble down to the forest floor and be reborn
Get lost in the cacophonous catcalls and rigidity
Be something much more fitting of me
I wasn’t meant to inhabit some carbon body and try to exceed the expectations given to me
Here’s to good hopes face-down
Telling me to let go a loser now
But the light comes in the form of love
At least getting hold of my conscience
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3. |
Song for a Friend
03:34
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Don’t be alone and don’t be scared
Somebody’s gonna care for you in this world
Don’t let the shadows consume you
Don’t let the sky turn to white
I’m trying my best to be your friend
But I end up falling flat on my face
It’s really hard for me to say
Something that I won’t regret
I don’t know how you feel
I mean, you’re stuck in a rut
And I’ve been in a moment of ecstasy
I shouldn’t live for myself
Could you be a little more open
Bottling all this won’t do any good
I honestly don’t know what else to say
Other than I wish you good luck through this
It’s getting hard for me to be myself
I feel like I’m crawling back in a hole again
Something’s collapsing around us
But you’ll make it out OK
Oh, could you talk this over
Have another friend to confide in
Oh, could you talk it over
Hope everything will be alright
Now that you have gotten out
Could you look up to the sky
Now that you have gotten out
I hope everything’s all right now
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4. |
Turboman
03:32
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He’ll never come to the party
My medal hangs around my neck
He’ll always look towards the signs
Crossed snakes, crossed snakes...
He’s never gonna get me what I want
I know in my heart it’s true
He’ll never get me sanity
How the good times roll
It seems like a dream
So long ago
My eyes jolted awake by
The Pabst on the carpet
He’ll never fulfill my promises
What else is there to do
He never comes home at night
He never takes me to the movies
I wanted to get another doll
To join me watching the TV
There’s a kitty in the TV show
How the mighty have fallen
Where’s my surrogate daddy
When I need him the most
He’s dead in a homicide/suicide
Nobody cares anymore
He’ll never come to Main St.
He’ll always stay in Bolivia, counting the money
Where do you lay, Howard?
Where do you rest?
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5. |
The Great Alexander
04:48
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It keeps coming back
Not some pansy schoolgirl mouse
Her eyesight’s pretty bad.
Why is she kissing up to him?
I haven’t run out of Vaseline
It relieves the chafing that happens
Do you mind if I took the time
Noticing the careful fringe?
I can’t keep my eyes open
The feeling’s gotten over me
A pack of cigarettes
Lying on the nightstand
Hope my folks don’t open the door
Tell ‘em I’m into rats
I don’t know myself.
Now my mouse is jammed
And they’re coming up the stairs
They’ll flip when they find out
My standards aren’t what they seem
How can I get a break
When the girls laugh at me
And the boys shift their eyes
And the geeks have their fun?
There’s nothing to it, really.
It’s just another thing that turns me on,
Like some janitor who writes calculus books
And some naïve blonde-headed punk
I can’t really decide if I do this.
It comes over me like Faithful and True,
Blowing the mind of my self-control
Wanting it to put down the rock
Skippy at 33
Like the fifth or sixth band
He’s like the music to my life
As I take it all away
It’s something I learned from a movie once
It’s gotta be finished in some physical example
And down the drain goes my bank account
And my dependency
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6. |
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Orange sodium blinds my skin
Illuminated by the fiery telephone trees
Paranormal horses up and down the block
Rainbow factory’s off for the night
Seems like the hunter won’t come here
He usually stops at the college grounds
His shoulder bled and the image is tainted
How can I think of the good things
I don’t need a drink
They know I failed again
Finding cans of corn
Looks like a car died in the kitchen
Some faux-pueblo is some magnet for
The vagrants who alleviate the stress
On the souls of the people who left
They didn’t like it – it seems so empty
Mumbling to yourself, “how’d I get this low”
Let myself down again
Now they’re better off without me
I don’t need a drink
They know I failed again
Finding cans of corn
Say goodbye to the vagrant…
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7. |
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I don’t know – I can’t feel below
Can’t see the light; can’t see the night
But what did I do? I just changed the way I spoke.
Had a million balloons – just trying to kill my hope.
This can’t be how it feels!
They taught me the contrary!
No hand to pull me…
Nothing to call home…
There’s nothing I can hear. From this shell, I wait in fear,
Hoping I don’t fall apart before I really go to the dark.
I bet Trumbo would have a kick if he knew I was in this state.
I can’t think – I can only blink. The thing I love I’m forced to inhabit.
I don’t know…
This new body isn’t right!
Bad light! BAD LIGHT!
A bird’s no way to go…
Take me down from the shaky ground
Into the core…forevermore…
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8. |
Narcoleptic Routes
05:04
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I don’t need anything,
But my books, my pencil, and my guitar.
I’m going home to Iowa,
Where my old life awaits my return.
I don’t need anything,
But my imagination so I can go far.
Drive from my grave to Iowa,
Where my wake awaits my return.
In the splendor of my life
In the splendor of my afterlife
I live to die so I can roam in these Elysian Fields.
I don’t need anything,
But my blanket and my sheets.
I’m taking a rest in Iowa,
Where my old life tucks me in.
I don’t need anything,
But my glasses so I can see.
I have to wear them to Iowa,
Where my old life puts me in.
I don’t need anything,
But my friends and my sanity.
I’m joining them in Iowa,
Where my old life bade them adieu.
I don’t need anything,
But my wallet and my ID.
I’m going home to Iowa,
Where my old life awaits me.
I don’t need anything,
But my pillow so I can sleep.
I’m buried here in Iowa,
Where my old life remembers ‘bout me
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9. |
Give Up the Ghost
02:50
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Give up the ghost. It’s been causing you more trouble – can’t forget all the torture.
Give up the ghost. Will you just sever the connection? It’s good enough for you.
Fire away!
Get rid of your terror!
There’s the tool. It shimmers in the full moon – acts like citronella.
…but you can grip it. Make do with what you can. Produce some good.
Shout out danger! Shout out a battle cry! Let them know they had a schism!
Fire away! Get rid of your terror!
Now you sleep, go to the next step. See what’s new.
Go to times different than this. Assure them.
Give up the ghost. Don’t let it weigh them down. Do as you did.
Join the others who did the same thing.
It’s the only way out.
FIRE AWAY!
GET RID OF YOUR TERROR!
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10. |
Muse
05:42
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He whispered a good morning and left the vicinity up or down,
But he would’ve been alive. Maybe I shouldn’t have dreamed.
I think I can just drop down.
Try to connect somehow.
He whispered to his wife and gave up just to give up.
It just fell down. Not even the Prince can save me,
But he comes with such exception, trying to keep upon his track.
And the record spins and the melodies pour from the stylus all vibrating.
It just doesn’t make sense.
He’s left me poor.
The ark flooded with the news – a deluge overcame the followers.
How this man, some sickly man, walked away at six in the morning.
I think I can just drop down and try to sever the reconnection.
This cold day’s got me down and it’ll just rain.
He’s now back in this childhood home, waiting for the shivering room to fill up.
The sacrificed the martyred and the life-long lovers
Remind him of a past that can’t come back
But he’s now down
The room’s knee-deep in protoplasmic deception, but he revels in such exception,
Jumping off the beaten path
Jumping!
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11. |
It's Been Over.
04:11
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Why did she have to go and leave us all alone?
Why did she have to go and fulfill her obligations?
Did my existence bring her harm?
Or was it the Glory that can accelerate your growth?
It was late in the morning.
I wondered why she hadn’t woken up
I checked the kitchen – mouth in a bucket!
They took me to the aunt’s, who waited for her dad to come.
I finally knew she was well on her way.
Why did she have to go and leave us in the storm, introduce us to loneliness…cry ourselves in our sleep.
We’ll never understand the real value of life, but I don’t know.
Something turns me towards Glory.
I sang in a building full of sharp-dressed parents and sweating speakers.
They derived all joy from a man whose physique looks like Dionysus.
I had to give in. I didn’t know if I could go on, but I did…
…and I became spineless.
Why did she have to go and leave us in the sanctuary.
I’m reading militant stereotype tracts, indoctrinated by metaphysical fear.
Is this what taste is? Giving it up for Glory?!
WHO TOOK MY MOMMA AWAY
WHO TOOK MY MOMMA AWAY
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Clicker Records Atlanta, Georgia
Clicker Records: music for people who think they're better than Poco. The best net label since Beer on the Rug.
Est. 2014.
Submissions are always open...for now...
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