1. |
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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.
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2. |
A Reminder
03:01
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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.
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3. |
Bones
04:52
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"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.
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4. |
Oddjob
02:30
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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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Stuart J Attic Indianapolis, Indiana
SONGS! Under an old moniker [see also Possum Glory]
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