1. |
||||
and when I'm slow forever, i'll die slow;
I think you might be hiding from that in your greenhouse, no ?
Wrap me in glass that hasn't broken yet, i'm living, growing fast— up and out
I wrote a few leaves that have yet to touch the glass
little rustles can't be heard looking outside in, even with ears pressed fast—
Oh god, I was one space ahead of all my other lines
V-I you've got me fucked and chained to one way to write
I'm not joking around; this is a way to make a living see
Fighting what everyone else does just cause it's done differently
skill set pulled back for another failed grade
raise my hand through a puppet mouth and finally say
it's a living joke -- don't even know someone half broke
swimming in the spit of my peers; finally open my eyes I see the drowning folks
Im laughing at the gist that this isn't a pool so much as a cleverly masked pit,
my heart picks up the recently boarded bro scent
prowling boys with real estate affairs and concurrent school events
save me 10 grand on my almost executed city-shack cookie-cutter investment
oh my god! after you pick up, call me, here's my number, let's talk easy rent.
I think I'll have to crank up the jams, for my little heart
skips a beat at the thought - rubbing gum in your hair
no stomach for it, no the saliva to part
maybe take my peeling finger nails; I'll find some to spare
peeling back myself in half and laugh and listen all the way home
you're mouth and your money kissing keep my tired head turning slow
maybe I'm the enemy with you guys though, maybe I haven't thought this through
i'll make you coffee when we wake up in the morning, trouble free, did you say?
you bring the pepper to a life of soupy post-evolution pre extinction stew
yesteryear feels old, but a fortnight or a moon is nothing to living day to day boo.
|
||||
2. |
Surfacing
02:30
|
|||
Toll road, oriole, im rising from the swamp tonight
my best friends might be buried in snow, alive
doubt they said much, even the whisper of a husk
of words received as reprimand, saying almost something to Nick the boss and
with his shovel already in hand, backyard snowy and ready for some fucked up plans
it's saturday and my boss is burying me alive
I've got plans for tomorrow -- living and trying to rise
smell the water a little like dead leaves
go to charlie's party got told it was the best for me
i don't know what's best for me, clearly,
maybe i should be coughing up last year's leaves
or dropping my head and drinking from your clogged up eaves
I guess I could steal a car for you and then make a plea
spend that never got pension just for lawyer's nod and an incomprehensible muttered mention
So now I get used to the idea of afternoons at home outfitters
putting the corners of towels in my mouth walking aisle to aisle
getting lost in premium grade faucets, and gold rimmed shitters
charlie's party was a fucking wreck
i'm waiting now to get picked up while someone pukes up
some fucked up red stuff, guess it could be blood
or that shrimp sauce I saw him drink before the fight
god my frozen friends are always right
their voices sound like the sound of cracking ice,
|
||||
3. |
Stuffed
03:25
|
|||
hey lost train waiting on station lines
I've got the presence for you and a card to boot
When a western sky lights up and then drops outright
We don't really know what to do
Hey cat, you don't know whats going on, in the living room
I'm surrounded by last nights dinner sliding down a glass roof
Most people are hungry but don't know a hunger's tooth
Fill a cavity with soft light, memory and morning blues
Im digging around for something to say, or at least I think I am
---
hot shit's tailights looking angry tonight
two slice's of pie - crisp lines, crust to the night
two melted clocks passing dali into the left lane
I'll ride in silence; arrive on time, unraveled wreathes in vain
drivers distraction left, right, we'll move forward to the gaseous sights
stick shift, for big shit, your riddles miss more than mine hit
back; forth sealed up in tight lip kisses, another joke fizzes
cut the wheel, direct your feels; splish splash better now and better real
Forgot my swim trunks, living like a soft monk
never ever moving like I give a motherfucking funk
big buzz fading like a super soaker water mark
who would ever call for someone swimming in the wet dark
trim off the slack, surface tension brings me back
gasping for air in a arid desert trap. Utter propaganda crap.
i'll hold my breath for a lackluster or misjudged misfit
I remember water, dripping off, swallowed by a sand pit.
|
||||
4. |
Brewhaha
02:48
|
|||
missed mouth and very little money or maybe drink
if you pull back your lips and bare your teeth
nightmare in the light gets brighter if you think
tall strangers in the woods at dusk shimmer till they freeze
You know the sun behind the park, the one that runs with the runners?
yeah it's been nice but I'm afraid we're all gonna die next summer
Donut hole key holder bathroom stalls cafe brothers
Pissing into the sump pump pit, stench on me, lit
When you cook dinner your worries bring me down so fast
I've got my shoulders as tree stumps and you're a broken branch
my rings are split down the middle, I'm born and age in half
Your pasta is boiling, the sauce is simmering, where are the kitchen staff
oh yeah they are choking on their own spit, trying to drink it,
or more specifically, sip it, with little left, and it's a bitter bet
more likely than an optimistic guess; parched throat doesn't get better a bit
kitchen knives pull back, we remember the stomach of sous chef Kit.
brewhaha the drip is likely dribbled over the lips of some rich shit
Step out of the story, yeah I'm a fucker for trying to understand, k let's get back to it
casey is hallucinating and james's lips are cracked but not bleeding
menlo's got a case of windshield fluid and is considering conceding.
no one's got the drive to be bitter
no one's going to get any better
prophelysizing doom has never been so hot
the pit in your stomach hurts eh? sorry dog.
|
||||
5. |
Busser
02:10
|
|||
I've got 50 people here raising a glass
retract your neck and let your drink slip back
To good health or better yet, pull your arm down fast
over your head, outta the party over your own smashed glass
when i've got bloody feet and i'm feeling my whole self
I'm the wingspan of fresh breath and a moment of good health
Most trails of blood lead in bleeding and lead out black
When I trail off I'll be saying something light
let's recap, i was better than this but not better than that
In a moment of repose I could probably compose a song saying where I best feel at home
or better yet, I'm quiet now, a wash wipes the writhing me, reminding me: get back to sleep, tees.
In my dreams I'm a twisted tongue with intentions frequently incomplete
someone's got me wasted over a stone cut basin
bird bath bad rest my face in
the water and sing songs back to me
into depths of stone that haven't whet an appetite worth craving
let's recap, I was a bubbling fizz on a blasted flat
In a dream of ambition I would probably forgo a poem for a moment alone
or better yet, I'm laughing now, a stand still stops my running feet, reminding me,
wake up tees, you're asleep on the couch and the kettle's screaming,
take care of me, sit up, maybe breathe some steam
|
||||
6. |
Propagate
02:06
|
|||
7. |
Boroughs
02:46
|
|||
little mirrors above me, 80k to the hour
horns are the signal of my wind blasted face
cold burned by some broken wind shield shard
rocks face across the lake thunderous split and showers down in a cascade
oh my god becky you've broken down the last natural landscape
With a chisel in my aorta, i'm coming up bleeding and awake
I was riding a wave across the lake to your house to make out
Now i'm face down in the mud slinking my way round town.
trying to hide from the better part of myself i let down.
You've got me stacked at the bottom floor caving in
i'd rather put my face in the chimney and breathe your cigarettes
when I'm a stretched thin like my shingle shin skin
it feels so damn good to avoid your self recruited tiger cub kin
When the hills bring me back to a mirror bound city
I remember the chill spine you slid into my memory
I lost my nerve when you kissed my chest; i was cowardly
I was spitting out words where they had no place to be
spectacularly illustrated and so succinctly replicated
the host inside your home has been explicit beyond reproach
Oh wait shit, I'm still in the lake, now i'm dripping on your floor
Never was a guest, learn my thank yous and the rest,
something in store for the people who know me best
It's kind of funny when your mouth shapes like a dictionary or test, fuck i'm out of breath
ya definitions for me range from rough to regret
synonyms look dope but often lack or get left
behind or get caught up in a lexical mesh
of lost love or a poorly estimated guess
|
||||
8. |
Greylake
01:54
|
|||
9. |
High notes
02:38
|
|||
10. |
Honey in your cuts
02:33
|
Streaming and Download help
If you like Bad Chapter, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp