1. |
Casket Masquerade
13:20
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We are the phantom limb of some once grand collective;
so full of holes, run through from a distance.
Uniform and prism minded; vagrant eyed.
From this cloud we stretch out, though we are vacant.
Out here, on some misspent horizon,
there is naught left but our indecipherable shape.
You think you’re weary now, but it’s worse when you get there.
So shoulder your share of the cold, and shake off the distance.
From where we are, you are vile and electric.
I cannot fathom the taste in your mouth.
Once more, after grave invitation,
stoned and bereft, we enter into a hell of a state.
We pour so freely now, into this lachrymal vase,
that our sense is one of such impediment and ruin.
We retch, but barely can we taste it;
ourselves turn’t little more than fleshed, stodgy rheums.
Still there are some…
Still there are those…
Still we are numb…
So still in our holes…
We soar through countless phases of elations;
honed and well dressed for the occasion.
We make light of our sedation
and our need to feel erased.
Now we plummet, scale, and haunt,
then tear apart the wares and wants,
turning what they wear and flaunt
into our casket masquerade.
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2. |
Ἄμαστρις
05:02
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With my mouth full of birds,
and having taken just the tonic,
I find the sky filled with my words;
painted in distances.
Hobbled and haunted.
The way down is hidden from my view.
My hands are soiled with my own birth.
I’m crawling backward. I’m drawn into -
where we all were dead and where nothing hurt.
This is your river, but you’re drowning too.
The way down is hidden from my view.
The way out is given to me through you.
I would be found pacified
if I gave in to
the mania for breaking
every part of you.
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3. |
Stoned
09:15
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STONED
I stayed up counting stars all night,
which is strange, ‘cause I was in the basement.
I can’t swallow, and I’m half-eye blind.
there is no pain, and everything is tasty.
I’m fuckin stoned.
I wander and pause and forget who we are.
I can straight up see my house from here,
which I don’t get ‘cause I’m on vacation. (Sailing)
I’m feeling hollow, and I don’t mind
Imagine if I could stay like this? Woah!
I’m fuckin’ stoned, in wonder and awe.
Don’t let me wander off.
I can feel my skin slip over my bones.
I’ve locked myself in. I’ve locked myself out.
Let’s see what’s in the fridge. Yo, I can hear the lawn.
I can’t go out like this. I’ve got two different shoes on.
Contemplate how we are each a part of some unfathomable whole,
and that we are all one, yet still made of holes.
What was I laughing at? What the hell am I watching?
Where are my car keys at? Nah, I should probably walk it.
What the hell? I’m still laughing, man.
Have you seen my walkman?
I’m splicing jacks, ‘cause I’m a quadropheniac.
I still want something I can’t put my finger on.
Stoned.
Too fuckin’ stoned.
I wander and pause, and forget who we are.
Stoned, in wonder and awe. Let’s wander off.
I’m so stoned.
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4. |
A Sound Braining
03:10
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