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1. |
Bath
03:51
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Baptismal fount
You flaunt your bounty ounce for ounce
I want her body ouch for ouch
Baptismal fount
The beads of water are my friends' heads
Kissing my neck and chest and making my leg-hair thick with wet
And doubly cleansed
On the receiving end of your diary when you touch me
On the conceiving end of my diary, and it loves me
On the careening bends of legality, but it's nothing
I signed my soul to some dipshit trolls
But I'm bathing and behaving
I was handed a diploma after
emerging from this cold scholastic coma
Excised like squamous cell carcinoma
I've got lidocaine throat, I've got 2-ton teeth
Pretty much a Green Beret tongue-wreath
You can see a jet of running water
Circumnavigating the edge of my lifestyle
Rinsing the bile off my file
I've been exposed to the most loathsome of folks
But when you lather me up with hope like it was pricey Lush soap
I could buy a water-proof coffee table and live out of my shower
So that we could settle down here forever
Baptismal fount
You flaunt your bounty ounce for ounce
I want her body ouch for ouch
Baptismal fount
The beads of water are my friends' heads
Kissing my neck and chest and making my leg-hair thick with wet
And doubly cleansed
I hear that you reap vast rewards
when you vouch for manifold various lords
Double-digit virgins or just simple harp-chords
But they couldn't apply to my provocative prerogative
I wade in my bathtub; it's a poly-God mashup
I embrace my latest in health-fucks
With a Little Caeser's pizza in Nick Bertelson's pick-up truck
And I, I will live with my good metabolism for 1 more year
You flaunt your bounty ounce for ounce
I want her body ouch for ouch
Baptismal fount
The beads of water are my friends' heads
Kissing my neck and chest and making my leg-hair thick with wet
And doubly cleansed
On the receiving end of your diary when you touch me
On the conceiving end of my diary and it loves me
On the careening bends of legality but it's nothing
Baptismal fount
You flaunt your bounty ounce for ounce
i want her body ouch for ouch
Baptismal fount
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2. |
Moral Melt
05:03
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I'm apt to crack a jaw
and write “pause” in blood on the walls near some bodies I saw
This place makes me melt my morals
This place makes me melt my morals
I'm a skin graft, I'm a new scratch you woke up with
Bet you wish you never broke up with me
This place makes me melt my morals
This place makes me melt my morals
I wanna make you think I'm awesome while my awful's playing possum
Blatant flotsam, bet you wish you never holed up in me
This place makes me melt my morals
This place makes me melt my morals
I can't be myself without a little bit of help
So don't file me with the newly deceased, with the old and diseased
Because I, I've got the eyes of the dog-flogged Christ
it's my decisive mind, it's me ill at ease
I've got a class with you first period
I've got an instinct, you've got both your legs
spread 'neath the desk, floral horrors under
I've got a fly cylindrical
I've got a throbbing problem, both my legs bent
Tetris-esque, yearning for her summer dress
I wouldn't ever forge the facts
like I did a few months in the past
I don't know mind control on myself, for starters
I'm consolidating Bear Hair into bits inside my fists until I made you something
It's inside my fists until I made you something
So don't file me with the newly deceased, with the old and diseased
Because I, I've got the eyes of the dog-flogged Christ
it's my decisive mind, it's me ill at ease
New developments in my progression: I know exactly who I've been. I thought there was this red badge of self-hate, free from pollution of pride. Could that help me? Oh, crown me uncomely king. It took ten years, five bands, two girls, and one friend to truly make me sing. I'm the sum of my parts, I'm the bright and the slighter sides of my heart. Thelema, Thelema, MY will be done, MY will be done. And that's the closest I can come to an artist's statement.
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3. |
Angelswarm
05:38
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When we move on, we hear sounds like breaking cocoons
or pianos freshly tuned, a million new hearts that move in unison
We move on like Merrill did when swung
or air from collective lungs, cosmos wallflowers left hung up like stars
We're culled from love, it was delicately designed
and sewn to our insides; the seamstress might just give us shelter
If not, I'll claw from the inside in
through my fleshy coffin lid; whatever is pushing me will push itself out
Each layer of skin is etched with text
of every song kept secret
Cognitive burns relaying thought through heat
an accidental diary
When we move on, we'll hear a broad, bright, resonant hum
or a deep, dark, desolate one; I guess it all depends on going up or down
When we move on, there's no guest list based on your wrongs
or the crowd you thrived among; I see inflatable castles filled with little bouncing lights
When we move on, I'm going to spy so happily
on larval versions of me, baby seeds with questions and lit reading lamps
And that's why I sometimes stare at your chest
and why I won't do well on your test; I'm intrigued to the point of almost losing it
See, sometimes I lay in bed and box my ears
and shut my eyes with shirts tied
And out of interest and concern, I hold my little breath
and hope, hope, hope that's what it's not like
when we move on
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4. |
Bird & Worm Real Estate
04:50
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Sweet Angelswarm
take me to the forest floor
When I'm too good at playing dead
you can drop me here instead
'Cause all the vermin and the worms
see me as we see pachyderm
They'll section off all of my bones
and fashion true organic homes
Sweet Artisans
and boca-foaming musicians
If you've truly built something great
don't settle 'til it resonates
'Cause all the vermin and the worms
see you as we see pachyderm
They'll take up residence inside
the body of work you'll leave behind
Sweet Architects
We haven't seen your faces yet
but you're inside me when I sing
and each sunbeam brought by morning
And every human being I see
as a cell in the broadest of bodies
all come to watch our churning Earth
And tell me
do we look anything like a mirror?
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5. |
Burble
04:52
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To live in a body like mine
makes each unmanageable man
To wish each night to fall inside
the palm of something's hand
I wish it was wired in me
to crawl and to submit
To weep to every gentle song
Pretend I'm delicate
I wish to be kissed deeply
and fall into two arms
To shrink back down to bath toy
and be bounced like a ball of yarn
The cast list has been posted
I'm the lead and the support
The vain, abusive alpha male
and the lady that he courts
How could you expect me to do all my talents promised?
How could you expect perfection when I'm Gemini dishonest?
How could I do better than my best? I'm just a kid, I'm just a kid
I've always been
“Peter! Where are you going? We have work to do. I moved the rock to find you running. I've moved myself to match your inner pace. You're the rock upon which I build my church, the focal center of my wet scope. We have work to do. I can't keep shivering myself 'til crumpled. I miss you, and I forgive you.”
And I do what you tell me to
because I love you
I have to
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6. |
A Healthier Olympics
05:22
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We get so heavy and we've gotta let it breathe, breathing heavy, heaving
levies full of ocean that the continents float in
I perceive an eye and a network deep in the
center of my Earth-church, gauging our worth, first
steps; I'd like to sing to every leaf I see in hope of
some sort of Communion, I'll maybe reach to it, let the
people concede, let the public ascend, and let the
tops of buildings, houses, and trees accept new denizens
We hear a sigh and it's a signal, we hear a loud
scream from the mantle, it's a pitfall; it's just the first,
thankfully, almost like a healthier olympics, meant to
unionize the planet, but without the ugly competition
Soon enough, higher places filling up, and we
look down at the bottom like the ugliness of Sodom, like “I
can't believe I spent so much time on the surface of a
being determining what my worth it,” after all
A human being is a hyphen
that's been between the words hole-shaped
A human being is a pigpen
with a temporary set of landscapes
A human being is a rough gem
Dig hard to find what's great
A human being is a human being is a human being is a human being is
This is not how it used to be
King of it all now we fall so foolishly
Who's to blame? You or me?
We live above what life used to call its proud son for centuries
They're all stone now, they're all cold now
I'm feeling bright and warm. holy sweet
Angelswarm slow down, we were right to ascend
before its and our bodies broke down
Now how about a little less catastrophe?
Naturally, the physically unfit refused to move and atrophied
in a spectrum cement; their neglect is somewhat
a certain kind of blasphemy, without them we're living happily
Breathe body breathe if it means we need to leave then we'll leave
And we left
Now there's common ground, though it's not evident
Birthed by the earth; a new human
We are heaven sent
A human being is a hyphen
that's been between the words hole-shaped
A human being is a pigpen
with a temporary set of landscapes
A human being is a rough gem
Dig hard to find what's great
A human being is a human being is a human being is a human being is
And lately, I want to know what bit me
to make me sift through ancient history
and dog-ear every page that shaped this modern age
Because lately, I feel hopeless
Hugged hard by soft hypnosis
The Earth breathes, we bounce like babies, so we calm down and sleep
This is falling in love
with something that can't move
With a movement based in toothless, half-true shit
It's like missing the basket, and still raising the roof
It's kid gloves inside the vocal booth
We assume it's laced with ruthless, monsoon spit
But it just missed the track-list
It wasn't telling the truth
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7. |
Singing
03:05
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When I sing
I feel whoever's pulling my strings
Has fallen asleep on the phone
and quietly breathes me his dreams
It's their nonsense alive when I sing
When I sing
I feel whoever's pulling my strings
Is tying mine in a knot
Until one cathartic release
It's puppet-play when I sing
When I sing
I feel whoever's pulling my strings
Is smoothing my features out
'Til I've reverted back to 13
Acne-ridden and scared, so just sing
When I sing
It's a poly-sensory thing
At least for myself, I've found
it's a starfish-dish in my mouth
It's more than sound when we sing
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8. |
Scaffolding
09:12
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Who put me in this pedestrian hospital?
Someone ripped out all my Catholic modules
I'm split wide with a head full of sirens
and a panoramic picture to watch
It's filled with every girl I bit when I kissed
looking blue and amethyst and dismissed
and it fills me with nondescript song
to watch what I did wrong
I've got asterisks and footnotes before me
How else could I write this story?
All my songs have caught the sniffles
so this is all I have
Lux
No one's ever met me, I am a great cloud of unknowing
You've only seen ball bearings, you've only seen soft landings
No one's ever met me, I am a great cloud of unknowing
I'm inside some spells, I'm inside the stairs
I've written a book for the kid I am and was
of snowflakes in the summer, of lost pockets of time
of stiff archaic rhymes, of sun too trite to shine
when night filled every eye in oily absolutes
of trying to look up to nothing but the night
when stars swallowed the sky in muted lullaby
and all the ants of Earth turned hard and marble white
and centuries went by 'til everybody died
I am who upsets me, I am a great cloud of annoying
I take reactions badly, I take that badness gladly
All my songs have caught the sniffles because my longs have caught the littles
My cogs forgot their goggles, I'm all gills and oil spills
And when magic spread like garnish looks more and more like garbage
I hate in stacks of dishes, in putrid little wish-lists
I hate in fleets of buses, in piles of weeping wasn'ts
And when passionless and dry, it's 10 o'clock at night
So when I'm drowned and soundless, I hope my body's boundless
But I feel close to dead both in and out of church
both in and out of work, both in and out of bed
My dogs are soaking wet with molten lead
Wipe off the goo
Slide through the slit
Burst into white from the Earth like the church that you're worth
Lux Aurumque
I can't write anything without asterisks. How else could I tell a story? There are always obscurities and details and exceptions that dwell above and beyond the call of duty, no matter what calls I make. No matter where I am, you'll always look like you caught me. The order of operations in my making is comprised of these parts. I remember the color of the coating of a sick throat. I remember screaming from outside, thrown stones landing in rings. I remember being pinned by Oscar and his girls, attempting to cram paraphernalia in my mouth. I remember baptism, walking homeless on a highway, singing something. I remember loving him without knowing the song was about him. I remember impossible lost time stuck in the slimy pit stops of my dreams. I remember those fever dreams in the shower of my house, dreading returning home. I remember capitalizing on moments. I remember being catapulted into the center of a sunflower. I remember waking to be reminded that I'm not, and never will be, special. I remember having to explain the drool in my cup, the stop in my go. I've repressed sports, snow, psychology, the details on the Minzer file, mustard, uncles and cousins, and actual love and sex that no one can speak of without a sinless stoning. It's a bleak winter when you remember that you're the only sinner. It's a dark future when all you want to grip is slicked with blood.
Lux Aurumque
I'm not a rock and I'm not an island
When I'm left alone, I chat with the silence
Sure, I'd function and be my own man
but don't interpret that as perfect, I can't hold my own hand
I can't be happy if I can't make others happy
and I can't make myself happy, only calm and content
My friends are building my scaffolding
They have no idea that they keep me singing
So when she's here, I know I've got her
and when they're here, I know I've got them
When I feel it, I know my heart beats
and when I walk, I know I've got street for days
When I breathe, I know I've got age
and when I read, I've got every page
My friends are building my scaffolding
They have no idea that they keep me singing out
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9. |
Architects
07:03
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We get so heavy, and we've gotta let it breathe
My night proves sleepless
I watch a live birth before I go to work
Is that you smiling?
I thought I knew what I was doing
'til I watched the teeth shoot through in every beam
We get so heavy, and we've gotta let it breathe
My loose end's leafless
The Doctor feels the spin just when he stands
That's why he's smiling
Then I'm reminded why he's crying
I join in; I'm completely fine with it
We get so heavy and we've gotta let it breathe
Preserve the image
of the last vibrant seconds I was clean
And I'm still smiling
Each notebook's in a drawer
Thousands of words do what these pictures should've done
Black
Done up like a doll
Done up like the laminated cover
Of my rite-of-passage/social-death-knell
Hide in gravy-boat eyes
in flying-saucer midnight
Bounce, back and forth, up and down
Echo-chamber dread
You hollow out my head
I'm swallowed by my bed
You're resting on my shelf
You're kissing me goodnight
You're wishing me good morning
Now tell me,
do we look anything like a mirror?
I wake up amazed everyday, that in spite of every shortcoming, of every misstep and halfstep, and every debased covenant, and every ripped contract behind that backs of my makers, I'll always be fine. It's like what Ms. Magnusson said, in the darkness of the Guided Study room, pulling me out of my own huddled mass just to tell me I'll always be fine. It's so simple, that after all this, it seems sick, but I'll always be fine. As long as you stay, perched with me on this Earth, waiting to be lifted, I'll always be fine.
Now tell me,
do we look anything like a mirror?
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Broken World Media Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Independent record label releasing and distributing music, visual art, and literature
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