1. |
Flesh Rebels
04:27
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Wrap me in a blanket of your boring songs
And suffocate me slow until I sing along
I want to desire to desire to belong where I don’t belong
Embalm the experience:
Everyone on the dance floor’s got their phones at the ready so
Embalm the experience
Let’s call it something new. Pour old wine into a new bottle.
Fresh beginning for fresh sins – sounds real good to me
Embalm the experience
I took a video of the band.
They were a real good band and I made a real good video
And that night we had some real good drinks and real good sex
Embalm the experience
While that video sits in a server in the valley
Sucking up power from the roots and from the flowers
Tropical storms will uproot the palms
To light every single fuse and explode every single psalm
Flesh rebels sing in rows of twos and threes
Emancipate me from your electricity
Screw it to the way that you swagger and talk.
Forget about the taxi. I’m gonna walk.
Screw it to the beds and the booze and the rock
And the t-shirts and the posture and the empty talk
Forget about the airplane. I’m gonna walk.
Wrap me in a blanket of your boring songs
I’m a flesh rebel. Damned until I sing along.
Onward Christian soldiers singing
Onward club drug soldiers singing
Onward hookup soldiers singing
Onward worship soldiers singing
Onward
Embalm the experience. I heard you the other night.
Didn’t you say you want to curl up and die? But I told you that
The glory of God is a human fully alive
Embalm the experience of a busted heart
Shake out the earth until every landmark falls apart
Embalm the experience.
Tropical storms will uproot the palms
To light every single fuse and explode every single psalm
So sing me a lullaby of slow moving rust
Your phony Clash mania has bitten the dust
Let the heart burst. Let the clenched fist strike the first blow
Let the heart burst. Let the speakers blow your ear drums so that everyone will know
Screw it to the way that you swagger and talk.
Forget about the taxi. I’m gonna walk.
Screw it to the beds and the booze and the rock
And the t-shirts and the posture and the empty talk
Forget about the airplane. I’m gonna walk.
Screw it to the melting frozen rock.
Once lit on fire but just a frozen block
Forget about the rocket ship. I’m gonna walk.
We could be much more than four chords and lo-fi snores
But the ‘related artists’ button on your favorite streaming service
Has got you believing that the latest 90’s rip off is a radicalized statement
And you’re writing boring songs to sell someone else’s product
And no matter what today’s slogan is you’re still sitting in their pockets.
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2. |
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Think about today
I woke up coughing blood in a dead sweat
Think about today
Exchanged my soul for my self respect
Hey bloodsucker.
Think about today
I woke up coughing blood in a dead sweat
Today’s sin felt like taking off my skin
To make a dark burrow that I can hide away in
Wrap me up. Smash me up. Tie me up. Chew me up.
And so first I was beaten and bruised like a banged up stray washed in first thing in the morning and there you were, hair draped gracefully in front of your eyes like an overcast sky blasted into fragile eggshell white and you said to me:
I often dream that the world is an out of the way town
The doors are unlocked and the shades are never pulled down
Crashed my life inside a desert gown
Poured something wet into the arid ground
I am so lost and
You are so found
Tied me up
Into a whitewashed memory
Where I was once the hero
And once the enemy
Rack them up
Set them up
Watch them all fall
But life shouldn’t be about putting up walls
Wrap me up. Smash me up. Tie me up. Chew me up.
Wind me up. Fuck me up. Trash me up. Break me up
Curl me up. Bash me up. Mash me up. Crush me up.
I always looked but you were never around
Packed my bags and said I’m leaving town
I am so lost and
You are so found
Crashed my life inside a desert gown
Poured something wet into the arid ground
I am so lost and
You are so found
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3. |
Diego Garcia
02:44
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Lukewarm beer and Sunday bells
Flamingos dance on shotgun shells
Skirts adorned with broken teeth
Dead thoughts crunch beneath your feet
Lukewarm pools in which to bathe
Charred up trees and blood stained lakes
Luau roasted coconut hand grenades
Our life was slow
Food grew heavy in the sun
And we knelt and prayed
Until the day was done
We lived in the Sun
And then we died in the Sun
And a dark wind blows
First they tried to shoot the dogs
Under pitch black skies and late fall frost
A foundation of busted hymens
Built his home while
Diego sings from a blood red throne
“If a dark wind blows, then make it so”
You see him strutting and you know he’s the man
He puts the keys in your hand
Don’t tell them what I told you.
Used to have dreams of warm sex in the sand
Don’t tell them what I told you.
You see the swagger in the way he stands
When he calls out a death march and strikes up the band
Don’t tell them what I told you.
Used to dream of living with the land
Don’t tell them what I told you.
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4. |
Rust in August
01:24
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August has me
Tied up in the trunk of a speeding car
I used to love and get down in the rust
And now I’m a portrait of slow moving dust
No rain. No stars.
No wheels. No bars.
No stops. No starts.
Start spreading the news.
I’m leaving today.
I can’t be a part of this. I won’t be a part of this.
These vagabond shoes are longing to stray
If I bind my heart to wonder.
If I bind my heart away from sin
I made it here so I can make it anywhere
I just need the right page to begin
I tried to
Wash it clean
In the rain
By the rocks
But then she fell so far far far far far away from me
It seems
To me that
I am eating memories
Go past the egg white page into a fragile sky
And send me to sleep with your rusty lullaby
No skies.
No stars.
No stops.
No starts.
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5. |
Witch Dance
02:01
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We live in the governor’s mansion and nest inside the walls
And our ears stick out from the French bay windows like gutted waterfalls
We live in the governor’s mansion like napalm in the walls
And our tentacles snake through central air vents and line up in darkened halls
Go out your three car garage?
Keep fucking in the dresser drawers?
Tear the hair out by the roots?
Bathe your kids in rotting fruit?
Sell your fantasies to 5th ave rags?
Go down in the flames of a burning flag?
Sink into the basement and melt in the rust?
While my little life chars itself to dust.
A bird’s heart still beating
And a dew drop still dripping
A non-region specific inflection
And a fear monger who can rig an election
Shoveling sludge into the crotch of my dreams
Until a bedroom sigh becomes a midnight scream
Watch my skin melt like plastic charred black
And then it sizzles with the squeal of a freeway crash
A pirouette or a pas de trois
A foxtrot to make your skin crawl
Did you see the way I can dance through the rain?
Between all the drops and through all the pain
Which dance is this? Which dance is this?
Which dance is this? Which dance is this?
Which dance is this? Which dance is this?
Which dance is this? Which dance is this?
We live in the governor’s mansion
And slide apart in microwaves
One more week and I’ll explode
In the aftermath of a hurricane
One more week and I’ll explode
To dance in the dance of my shadow
One more cut for the poor and alone
One more week and I’ll explode
A racist and imperialist voter base will
Build up the borders and lock up the gates
Like a lottery wheel still spinning
Now our kettle is brimming
A pirouette or a pas de trois
A foxtrot to make your skin crawl
Did you see the way I can dance through the rain?
Between all the drops and through all the pain
Which dance is this?
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6. |
Numbed Monotony
01:18
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Sometimes I think about my happy sober life like a car stalled out on the side of the Massachusetts turnpike. Like the ones I see when I’m driving east from Westfield back towards the sea.
Wrap me in a blanket made of your boring life
But the numbing monotony of night after night won’t light my darkness and it won’t fix my life.
My evil twin speaks in cryptic codes:
How I’ve been more concerned with work and books
And you’ve been more concerned with sex and looks
And how our picture frames are like the axis of the globe
I’m never going home
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7. |
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When I got back from the dust
It felt like my body swelled and my head shrunk
The scent is subtle but I can smell it distinctly
The dry stench of the desert stays with me
Like a car whose guts broke and sprung a leak
And left the road black and shiny and sleek
With oil and sludge and the stink of the week
My heart feels slicker than that and yet more weak
When I got back from the dust it sounded like this:
Back from the dust and a business meeting like:
Back from the dust and it sounded like:
Back from the dust:
I often dream that the world is an out of the way town
The doors are unlocked and the shades are never pulled down
Slipped my life into a desert gown
I am so lost and you are so found
Is that my slit throat singing?
Is that my cancer blooming?
Is that my first life spinning?
Is that my slit throat singing?
I cover it up with a laugh or two
While my true intentions I do not show
And I’m driven to insanity by the things I do not know
I’m a flesh rebel singing onward singing fuck me into the black horizon singing
Nice dress nice blouse open wound singing
I try my best to keep my head
Try my best to keep my mind but it’s no use
Didn’t you see the news today?
Airfields bombed and we celebrate
I always think my comfort is here to stay but
We’ll all blink and then we’ll melt away
I was staring at the window just counting stones
Praying that God would leave me alone
Awake all night but clinging to hope
In spite of the good at the end of your rope
Is that my mansion burning?
Is that my stomach turning?
Is that my death sense tingling?
Is that my slit throat singing?
Is that my slit throat singing?
Is that my cancer blooming?
Is that my first life spinning?
Is that my slit throat singing?
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8. |
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Out of love for the truth and the desire to bring it to light
One more week and I’ll explode
One more week and we’ll all explode
Or we lie facedown on the side of the road
One more week and I’ll explode
Two more weeks and I’ll explode
Three more weeks and I’ll explode
This one’s the tipping point.
This one’s the motherlode but
One more month and I’ll explode
I have held many things in my hands and I lost them all.
But whatever I gave to God, I still possess.
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9. |
New Lutheran
03:00
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Come on brother
Party with me at the temple of plagiarized songs
I know we’d all rather die before we were wrong
But let’s cut each other down to size and think a brand new thought
Come on sister
Pray with me at the church of the bleeding rock
I know we’re all bound to fall while looking to be saved
Everyone here is welcome to kneel down and praise
What the world needs now is a new Lutheran
What this scene needs now is a new Lutheran
Come on brother
Aren’t you sick of this water? I miss the dust.
Sprinkle my ashes with the rocks and the rust
And encase my soul into your blind trust
Come on sister
This one’s a sin I can wear proudly in my skin
We’ll stay up all night to mitigate the slaughter
Of my poor wife and music’s poor daughter
And in the morning we’ll take up the hammer and nails
Wander empty hallways before we find your stale
Practice space door for your shitty band
And tack up our thesis for your priests to read it
What the world needs now is a new Lutheran
What this scene needs now is a new Lutheran
One more week and I’ll explode
One more week and we’ll all explode
Or we lie facedown on the side of the road
One more week and I’ll explode
Two more weeks and I’ll explode
Three more weeks and I’ll explode
This one’s the tipping point.
This one’s the motherlode but
One more month and I’ll explode
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10. |
Psalm Exploder
05:54
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I often dream that all the world is a little New England town
The doors are unlocked and the shades are never pulled down
Where I was selling popcorn at the county fair
Blinked two or three times but you never saw me there
Washing and erasing psalms before I’d write them down again
Take faith in this tired gospel
I often dream that all the world is a town where no one knows me
And I’m working in the garden while my wife is reading poetry
Before I’m sucked back into a vortex of steel stained oil black
In a 9 AM rush hour highway panic attack
Everything bad went instantly white
And then everything good went instantly black
When my heart split with the stench and the sound of a freeway crash
Take faith in this tired gospel
One day. One week. One month. One year.
Not enough time to erase my fears.
Take faith in this tired gospel
And so first I was beaten and bruised like a banged up stray washed in first thing in the morning and there you were, hair draped gracefully in front of your eyes like an overcast sky blasted into fragile eggshell white and you said to me:
I’m not in this for your respect
I’d rather lie here dreaming
Then be crippled by your lame regrets
I’d rather lie here sleeping
Embalm the experience
Where’s the video of my band?
Like a fish cast out from a flailing sea
I gasped on land and became me
Embalm the experience
If I dance and sing real real good
Please just let me sing you a lullaby of slow moving rust
Your phony Dérive mania has bitten the dust
Shake hands
Shut up
And walk up the mountain
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