1. |
Familiar Faces
03:19
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All the familiar faces
Accumulate on a screen
Silent they stare back at me
I wonder what it all means
I’m not your familiar friend
I feel so alien
I try to explain this to you
But you just don’t comprehend
I can’t plug in
I can’t relate
So far removed
I am exhumed
Come into me
See my workings
IF you could see
Then you’d believe
This form of repetition will do
Us in for sure
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2. |
They're Fumigating
04:02
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From the depths of perception the bars rise
Caging in my grief
I’m expressing the feelings I foster
They surface and make me sick
I’m not choking back the words
Put on the band aid to solve all my problems
But the structure’s IN NEED OF suturing
Neurosis narrating anguish
That I’m harboring
Gestation just prolongs the suffering
ah ah ah ah
ah ah ah ah
ah ah ah ah
ah ah ah ah
This is painful, it’s how I feel
What is real? I cannot deal
My third eye gummed up and
De-co-rat-ed in styes
I’m electric, I’m detesting
I’m Oppressing the currents that
Reveal how I’m feeling
I’m bolted to the ceiling
I’m a blot on the shirt that
Was meant for showing
The augmented anguish
that I presently feel
This mess we’re making
It’s fruitless, frustrating
My walls are shaking
And they’re fumigating
ah ah ah ah
ah ah ah ah
ah ah ah ah
ah ah ah ah
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3. |
Teenie Weenie Houdini
03:50
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Just dub him as The Wild Man
He wants to etch into memory
Things not meant to be understood
He was made to be on TV
He’s done showing you his old card tricks
Just bill him as “The King of Cards”
He’s uninterested in the benign
He wants to keep you riveted
Escaping is his reverie
I challenge you to keep him locked up
Perhaps you know his famous act, the
Chinese Water Torture Cell?
He devoted his entire life
To debunking spiritualists
That gives you something to think about
When writing in his memory
My Teenie Weenie Houdini
Throw that damn key away
If magic could be broken down
Everything would just make more sense
Let’s perform a seance
Rosabelle Believe
He’s been dead for a hundred years
His corpse is contained in coffin cell
But I suppose he is predisposed
To trickery in the spirit world
My Teenie Weenie Houdini
Throw that damn key away
Everything makes sense
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4. |
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i’m an odd man on even numbered years
Non-issue faux pas encumber me from toe to ear
I’m troubled by failed attempts to make friends proud
Symmetries are formed that way but the method confounds
Seven eight nine nights of sans dream sleep
Question common things but let’s not delve too deep
The fate of ours evokes no empathy
Forgetting that we brought this on ourselves
Without considering the questions we ask
And how they make us feel
Oh I must be
Bored I must be bored, like any man I’m
Bored
I’m stricken with ennui
Bored I am so
Bored like any man I’m bored
And stricken with ennui
I’m an odd man with a number of feels
It’s difficult to discern these from ideals
If I don’t make impact, I may as well be dead
But how does this apply to the occupants of the head?
Bored I must be bored, like any man I’m
Bored
I’m stricken with ennui
Bored I am so
Bored like any man I’m bored
And stricken with ennui
Forgetfulness is a sign of my flailing identity
But perhaps ideals have sealed the fate in me
Bored, so bored
I’m bored
Stricken with ennui
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5. |
Grief
04:45
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I can’t sit still
Can’t fall asleep
I keep brooding
In thought too deep
Silence my mind, I wish I could unwind
The whir of routine keeps me unhinged
There is a little voice in my head reminding me to
Take my time
When I feel rushed
When I feel disgusting and lose my touch
Where do I begin
To find where I belong?
Where do I begin
To trace where I went wrong?
I gave myself chills from standing in place
Channeling ghosts through an instrument
When was the last time I stood alone?
When did I last revel in solitude?
Where does it get me to to do for others
What I can never do for myself?
It’s given me nothing
But grief
But at last, some relief
It’s like eating cherries
And biting the pits
Or hurling blunt objects to
See what sticks
What good does it do to follow directions
I find myself harrowed as consequence
It’s given me nothing, but grief
But at last, some relief
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6. |
Angerlou
03:22
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7. |
Filthy Shoes
04:42
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I can seldom think of anything that’s more important to me than clean shoes
I can’t think of any films that I watched as a kid better than clean shoes
I just feel at ease when I’m wearing my clean pair of chuckies.
I can think of all the good times I’ve had out while wearing my clean shoes
I can think of all the places and the trips that I’ve been wearing clean shoes
Why I would only feel dismay
If my shoes were given to me filthy today
I wouldn’t wear these filthy you see
Appearances are everything to me
Now give me my clean shoes
Give me my clean shoes
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8. |
26th Year
02:52
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9. |
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I took off my vest and it’s rested in my backseat for a week
I’m encircling the blocks, ruminating- an encumbrance of feelings festering
I kept myself awake- a night sans sleep
Reflecting on dalliances past when I eagerly took a leap
At times I question what it is I’ve been reflecting on
All the moments of pining were stolen- acting falsely for the sake of love
There’s no reimbursement of time lost to incubating stillborn ideals
I’m immersed quite to the point of barely floating
Enough to breathe
It’s all fleeting
Figuring it was worth freezing the feelings remaining
And leaving myself wholly bereft
I abstained from defrosting my just barely living
Disposing of the pieces frost bitten in depth
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10. |
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She’s a spectre in my mind all the time. Haunting me while I false start attempts to unwind.
She’ll be hailing a cab on my behalf, when I die.
She’s the object I’m affected by. She’s laying dormant and I’m right behind.
She’s been hailing a cab on my behalf; have I died?
It’s not at all like before, when all I knew was a bore. It’s a new faculty.
A sense that won’t let me be.
She’ll be hailing a cab on my behalf, when I die.
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Babay Jicks and The Ghoul Fiends Brooklyn, New York
Post-punk, Shoegaze & Noise band based outta Brooklyn.
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