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Dreams in the Witch House

by Stuart J Attic

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1.
i've seen them come, i've seen them go, countless aeons freezing in the cold. impossible planes, and all the math that makes my head swirl as i collapse. it's late at night and you wake with a start, with the covers pulled close about your ears, reality is that tiny drop of venom that can make all of your worst nightmares disappear. but not tonight, and never again, they're chewing through the walls of the room you're sleeping in. i see your bloodshot eyes, palor so grey, as you scream at me to make them go away. stairwells echo with soft padded flesh, and there's no one sleeping in your room. i've never met someone so obsessed with rushing headfirst towards doom. dreams in the witch house, hallowed hexenhall, there are forces at work that you can't begin to comprehend. dreams in the witch house are never free, you don't own the intellectual property. not in the witch house, no one ever dreams in the witch house.
2.
A Reminder 03:01
and i awoke to hammering, the new roof, another day. piles of so many broken memories. and when you spoke i swore that i grabbed ahold, but meaning goes where it will and ruins the joke. tell me all of your bad dreams, come to bed. let us drown in our fortress, it's so warm. i know that you hate surprises, well guess what? i left my toes out in secret, cold and exposed. i carried him with friends who could see right through all of the shit he wouldn't admit to you. and now i'm old, i get older by the day. the fresh earth whispers to me: "don't be alone", don't be alone.
3.
Bones 04:52
"let it go, this is home" i say to myself and pull on my hood. reassurances worth a dragon's hoard, just to know in the night i'm not alone. i think about that creaky house, its empty rooms that now are dust, ashes that the earth reclaimed. litigations over contracts made in good faith, and what was ruined? the very thing we tried to save. they were so close in age and proximity, a shared last name and ancestry, but otherwise just a comedy, poking fun at the idea of family. dig, dig it up, exhume. swallow, throw it up, resume.
4.
Oddjob 02:30
i'm like the predator endeavoring to collect some trophies, it's so easy when these amateurs be lackin olfactories, no need to be in cover man, i got that flickerfield, short out your gear and chill, then sneak up for the kill. but torture is inevitable and you know hell is full, a bored machine playing a scene back and forth until it's dull. weak wills be meals for my crew and we bill it all to the man uphill. guantanamo money, sittin pretty for some scraps at the table, but we still pay taxes. you make sand castles, thinkin they're mansions, when we're still owned by the same old assholes. who transfer the title, transfer the lien, you say the system's obscene but you still chasing their dream, and why? so we can play goldeneye, and pay too much for everything we buy.

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any dollar amount over $1 will be donated to legal aid for families who have been the victims of home foreclosure.

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released April 4, 2014

recorded in a hurry (two takes max) on a laptop with minimal production.

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Stuart J Attic Indianapolis, Indiana

SONGS! Under an old moniker [see also Possum Glory]

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