1. |
MI Basements
02:23
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Sometimes I hide in Michigan basements and blow out my brains with these credit card statements.
I wrote you this song. String me up, I'll string you along.
Sometimes I crack these cases of whippets and try to decode our living arrangements.
I wrote you this song. String me up, I'll string you along. Sometimes I hide in Michigan basements.
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2. |
Broken Heart, Holy Ghost
02:13
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3. |
Colonize!
02:50
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Slit the wrist of the alchemist, just to pass the time. Now let's get high on someone else's dime.
I American dreamed again, making babies with my hospice bride. Let's colonize! Let's colonize!
Downing pints with the condo class, to celebrate their demise. Let's colonize! Let's colonize! Lyrics from a supernatural book, all line and no hook.
Even tho the sun is up, I feel the darkness coming down.
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4. |
America The Beauty
02:21
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In a hospital waiting room with a 15 year old wraith, watch my alter ego try to fight a cop.
In sweatpants and switch-blades, slashing up all the tires at the shriner's parade.
Prince of mediocrity, this half-assed aristocracy.
In a hospital waiting room with a 15 year old wraith, dying to get a hold of my better days.
America! Such a beautiful name.
Over the hills she goes, burning crosses in the snow.
With a broomstick, a hat, a cauldron and a black cat.
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5. |
Donuts For Dinner
02:54
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Always a runner up, never a winner. Eating donuts for dinner, but we only get thinner.
With the K-town clowns, the serial sinners.
Lepers of luxury. Meat and bone on a smart phone screen.
Won’t we feel cold, when the talons take hold?
Control comes in plastic bags, stacks of pens, cleaning rags.
Ear plugs, IKEA rugs, random acts of useless facts.
Built so many goddamn shields. To kill the plague, you must burn the field.
I’ve been pleadin’ with this demon, but it’s not my soul that he wants to steal.
Curate your matches, sell out your bouts. Killing cans by the moon, making out on the couch.
There’s snow on the mountain, and it tastes like jet fuel.
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6. |
Tracking Shots
02:18
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Ice cream and booze, we slept way past snooze. These are the wars we wage.
Our timing was off. "It’s morning,” we scoffed. Climaxed then burned down the stage.
Everyone has daddy issues, tell me something else.
Like the time you sped thru Texas, spiked coffee and shaky legs.
Lithe limbs languish, alone in Michigan basements. Capture my replacements with tracking shots.
Wasted your entire estate on self help books and commemorative plates.
Smart-ass apes, we tend to create content for commerce and failed first dates.
These talons are seeking to gain, collecting and erasing the tapes in my brain.
It’s just a twinge of pain, a rubber band snap.
Friendly fire in a submarine. Fanning your face with the flames of your dreams and tracking shots.
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7. |
Old Smoke
02:36
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Dark knives in cold dives, consolation prize. Dead spies, Los Angeles lies.
Don’t blame the bird arms, blame the sugar brain.
Old Smoke gave his coat to the rolling jubilee. He said, ”Never thought this would happen to me.”
Dark knives in cold dives, consolation prize. Blind spies, Los Angeles dies.
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8. |
Action Coast
03:17
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Action Coast! Action Coast!
My family abandoned me they thought I was a ghost.
Action Coast! Action Coast!
The ones who vote against you are the ones you love the most.
Wicked west! Wicked west!
Sucker punch the succubus she really is the best.
Alchemist! Alchemist!
Disconnect the sugar brain then kiss me with your fist.
Kalashnikov! Kalashnikov!
Shoot it thru my TV set it really gets me off.
Honey trap! Honey trap!
I want to save the world, but I think I need a nap.
Culver City creeps, strain to glean the screen. Strain to clean the fiend.
I will fall asleep, right here next to you. We don’t dream anymore.
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9. |
Tiny Talons
02:44
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We enlisted in the office coffee service, prone to violence cause the silence makes us nervous.
Tiny talons take hold.
Stomach torn apart by light beer and gelatin, gotta get a card to charge this vacation.
Tiny talons take hold.
The devil is a chained dog, he is the ape of God. I am a chained dog, I am the god of apes.
I‘m one sneeze away from going insane.
Send in the ghost of Lindbergh to shoot me down with planes.
I'm one sneeze away from going insane.
Send in the ghost of Howard Hughes to shoot me up.
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10. |
Ark Eyes
04:41
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I love this town. Lotta good people in this town.
Lotta sick creatures in this down, they don’t love you.
In this advertising world, freedom fighters never get the girl.
I could talk tones for days, but I couldn’t love you.
Pack your bags, I'm ready to go. Piled our pills outside the door.
Kill me with your ark eyes, with your ark eyes. Murdered by your ark eyes.
Speaker, of the house. How did u get so much power?
Tell me how you got that power.
I don’t know about these kids today, but skipping out of Sunday school is a lost art.
If you really feel the same, write it on your eyelids like in the Lost Ark.
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SKY CHEFS Los Angeles, California
Somewhere in Los Angeles there’s a cluttered garage studio lovingly dubbed the Whack Ark. Inside, surrounded by wobbly tape machines, Craigslist castoffs, and an old iMac named Gozer, Dale Nicholls writes and records as Sky Chefs.
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