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1. |
Deathknock
01:43
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I can feel Death a rat-tat-tattin’ on my window
Wishing my limbs would extend
For one slow sip and back again for sin
I can feel him knocking my brain slow now
More than yesterday’s episode
Boring night quick-spawned heavy load for fun
But Death’s just a guy in a robe
that hasn’t seen a laundromat since the torture of Job
Whose crops burned, family scorned, by a white-bearded boom
Not in cahoots with the asshole staring into my room
I can feel Hell screaming in unison
Chanting sacred hymns reversely
Cursed venison weekend feast so early
I can hear them chomping elk with passion
Tearing through flesh, donning smiles
One day a year to forget daily trials
But I’m just a guy in a Morbid Angel tee
With a vengeance for educational redundancies
These truths fester constantly and without remorse
You speak of Satan’s carriage while I’m whipping his horse
But I’m just a boy with a penchant for hate
Me or you in the end, we’ve got the same fate
Dead in the dirt, there ain’t nothing worse
Than the worms gossipping about your exploits on Earth
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2. |
Paint the walls
04:25
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I don’t think I’ve ever seen _ that drunk, pushing me to talk to one of _’s friends
I heard she likes the Grateful Dead, so if it doesn’t work out, maybe we could at least trade bootlegs
I don’t think I’ve ever seen myself not drunk
I mean I’ve never seen the honest me without a little help from
Popov, McCormick, Ruble, Mr. Boston’s 50
Got a couple of layers that are no match for the hard stuff
to flush the shame out to sea
The origins were never in B-R-E-W
Seeing effects of pre-gaming the act of
destroying dead trees in the woods with a mixed drink in middle school
Nick's dad's missing kerosene, shut up, and blame the neighbor kids, don't be a hero, don't cause a scene
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a solution to the shit I’m in
Pushing me to storm the prisons, donning warpaint on the testes
Asking “Does this look marked by sin?”
Load the barrel if yes, aim for there, I guess, then when you’re done, reload and turn it facing in
Paint the walls with the mis-shaped brain that wanted you and I to be the same
-----
You smoke black Spirits, St. Ides in a can
continuity that I understand
We both get bummed out, pissed at each other
I can ground myself, I know your colors
I’ve got three sets to play, you do too
We know what we’re doing, we’ll see ‘em through
But when you wake up you won’t wanna move
When I came to I wanted last night removed
I’ll give it a year, wait til I process
Where this is going, what there is left to fear
Falling asleep on the couch
To the tune of my legato martial law
Falling to permanent slouch
Hunched over, ripping thorns from your paws
I still got your back
I’ll rip out your eyes and replace them with clocks
Maybe then I wouldn’t be so late
And I’ve been in love with a friend for one year this May
Plus three years, that’s four years, and twelve beers now
And I need to go to sleep, yeah
I need your fingers on my AC
Rollin’ the graphite, rollin’ the graphite
I’ll draw the taxes if you draw the sunshine
-----
Midtown gets an A
When I’ve got a 5 for Empire
When the cafe line is shortened
When the terminal is open
Momma didn’t raise no soft target
To get soft is to soak in optimisquid
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3. |
Family reunion
02:47
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I dropped my gameboy and it cracked the ink inside it, twirled and spat
It cried a poem in two colors, then it sunk back to hide
Don’t worry, friend, your price on eBay dropped back in 2009
Lime green, neotone ice
I was going fishing off the back of a jet ski when you met me
You hopped on and threw me off and my sunglasses, now they're lost
And all I ever wanted was some peace and quiet with the seaweed and the pollution
You're from Tucson, you put your boots on, say you're off to the Michigan State Park
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4. |
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It is snowing in a place just like this
the wind grips the tree and whispers couplets
"Okay…I agree, the cops are all pricks"
You haven’t had a drink in a couple of years
So I order two beers and pour one out
Gotta make a living somehow
It’s pouring outside, we’re heading home on the train
I wanna take a walk but Prospect Park is sunken rain
I don’t do anything when the clouds cry
Except stay inside and think of what I’ll do when the ground’s dry
Tomorrow is the coming, water’s running down the siding
-----
I hid in laterals, deep and subliminal
As peeled altars sheltered the fearful townspeople
Leaders leapt from windows, a village all desperate
To survive a spell aerated from villains all hellbent
Or at least not suffer any worse
Altered pleas do not appease a beast that showers skin with grease
Curse the godhand that feeds the palpable spellcasters’ splendor
After feasting young, they palate elders:
Human farm-stand
Pillage long planned
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There’s win for life at the station
but I don’t got the palms or the patience
I’m gonna walk inside
pay for spitting extra life
from a bleeding machine
This place it reeks like the hock of a brush
I’m high as fuck, my window’s stuck
A man on a harley sharpied a barbie
on his arm and he served in the army
I was walking thru town and I saw all the lights
and it was too bright, it was too bright
I been this way since a young tike
spitting in the face of twisted clown on a bike
our metal to metal, self tapping screws on the shelf by the level
next to best truths and a bottle of Tanqueray, when it gets empty I level accusations at her or myself, once you find out, shadows of streetlights partition the days
and who's straight and who's gay
so I let the 8 ball tell me what to say
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5. |
Brick
01:31
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Cause Bisbee’s utopic
These days are bleak if you expect a raise
I bumped into your boss just the other day
what a prick. The U-Haul’s on it’s way
We could make a fresh start there, I hear they got art there
It’s desert and rocks with one side of water
If you wanna see proof, we could trek to a river border
Either the one some miles south or the one in California
If you wanna sleep with me tonight
We could crash on my friend’s cold basement floor
We could watch Evil Dead 3
Or something less vintage maybe more scary
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6. |
Sex dream #6
01:48
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Whatcha gonna do with all that warning?
I can feel it coming
I return from the island
But I saw nobody
I told my therapist I want to sleep now
He just kicked the futon
He pulled out the KY
She whipped out the enzyme
Is this gonna cost me extra?
I woke up tied to a tombstone
I drift on the asphalt
They gave me chinese tattoo
I just hope it says truth
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7. |
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Can Hol isn’t the sorta movie I finish alone
There’s gotta be some other soul around to help me take the blows
With that in mind, you’ve seen too many films, if such a thing exists
Don’t want your mind to rot, your heart to hurt, from my own ignorance
Chainsaws to the groin, and spells read from the Bible
Rifles shot by monks, Friday night bliss
There’s a scene that makes you squeamish and I don’t know what it is
I guess I’ll stop inviting you over every weekend to get scared
We can lock the Blu-Ray player in the bulkhead, a home for spiders on stairs
Lasseter is no Romero, but I love you so I don’t care
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8. |
Marbles
04:20
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Losing marbles is the best with you
Super harmless til the stress comes through
Cruising campus for empty vestibules
Or any room with a couch to snooze
We’ll be up for a day or two
Forcing bananas down with orange juice
Pissing like I don’t have other stuff to do
Wondering if I’ve got other stuff to do
Snag a broom, clean the room, fill the chest
Hit the couch, cat-Knope, Parks and rest
Hit you up, ask you whadja like best?
If they round us up like cattle and force us to kill
You can’t bet I’ll evolve into Cotton Hill
You can find me fetal on a cotton hill
Crying about both family issues and loud pro-state shills
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9. |
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I think we disagree on the role of cops in society
Some days you want their funding doubled, some days I want it cut entirely
To prove it, you use words I haven’t heard in three years
Cause my peers have deemed them absurd
As much as I want to dig my hole in the ground
and pretend that I’m above the work that my friends have carved out
I can’t hibernate in this terrorist state that surrounds
Driving through this country of big skies
I see the fencepost killers and assume you reject your peers who sympathize
Flying through my friends list at 4am - those faces staring back don’t resemble my friends
It’s bastardized Thoreau over every post-modern dead-end
Where to go - Montana or Tokyo? There’s an FNB meeting three hours away. I guess I wanna go home.
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10. |
Doom
02:03
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Some cats learn to play jazz, other dudes want to croon
Still others in studs prefer punk attitudes
I’m the only guy that don’t like any tunes
You’d rather play music, I’d rather play DOOM
Some people crave friendships, hanging out, gulping booze
Others prefer relationships after a courtship or two
I’m the only guy that sits in solitude
You’d rather play with their junk, I’d rather play DOOM
Some spirits seek meaning through waterfalls and moons
The wide-eyed seek life in caverns and dunes
I’m the only guy that thinks that shit is for loons
You’re into playing God, I’d rather play DOOM
In three-score I’ll be stone-dead, my corpse in a tomb
The spirit that animates will float me like balloons
To heaven. just kidding, you know Hell’s always got room
You’re saying “He’s with Jesus,” but I’d rather live DOOM.
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Dealer Plates Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Dealer Plates is Jack Tael and Bruce Hamilton making music for rock-dwelling slugs. What lies beneath remains to be seen.
Cowboy pic and banner by Terence Mallon
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