1. |
In The Room (Elephant)
01:59
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These are the words he told me. He speaks my tongue well, and only. He said “If you are wise and bend to me, you’ll be canonized and sent to freefall into paradise of reciprocity. Please me well and pleased you’ll be – a perfect piece of property: sex, sugar and hypocrisy. Obey my will.” The words that you want, and what you say, contradict your views and fade away. I’ll do what I want, not what you say. The truth will always translate.
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2. |
Undertow
03:37
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Cautionary paranoia, evil breeding on your skin. Stow away the fleeting joys of sunlight, daydreams. Scare yourself before it hits you. Lay awake beside yourself. Focus, focus. What dilates your eyes? Blink out the tears. It’s just like breathing. Question your instincts, make them your memories. A canon of bleach sewn onto your knees, diluted into solutions. It’s just like breathing and all you know. Question you memories, follow your instincts. Follow.
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3. |
The Exit
03:54
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Admit you’re strong and get up. Your knees are not that weak. I’ve spent years calling your bluff and I see what it means. You disagree with my laws of truth and gravity. It’s never enough to believe me. Falling over, seasons become alive. The moon is full but we still sleep through the night. I reach across the empty space of our cluttered rapport to wipe the tears from your eyes as you unlock the door. The distance in years and inches diminished by the humid air, and of the scent of your clothes I am still aware. Get back on your feet. Stand up and leave. Growing closer, flesh tones blend and align. With patience torn our weak bones seize and collide.
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4. |
Early Morning Regret
02:20
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Holding onto the earth. The wind and the mistakes: beginning to fade away with hope. Play along. Foolish words make sense with placement adjacent to the frost in your lungs. It’ll all be over when the blood is frozen. Relieved and painless, cell walls have burst but you are absent. Why are you?
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5. |
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Someone just found out we’re dying, but it’s been on the books all along. It’s just a matter-of-fact act of nature when the lights go out, but someone just decided to run. From warm grisaille to flat black and white, leave nothing uncertain behind, not a blind eye – because Jupiter said we’d be okay. It’s cold enough in his hands to forget everything he told us about visiting someday. But when you do – you have got to be smart about it. Save a trip, make it a move. Wait until our welcome’s work out. Travel light, keep hungry. Parse your rations wisely. Never turn your back. But he’s so devoutly scientific, and he knows he needs energy to run. With ends and means in mind he’ll shut his eyes, clasped tight. Deny it. Just be ready for the quakes to level it all, the tides to rise and prove the hype. You’ve held your breath. You’ve held your tongue and if the sky doesn’t fall, it won’t be that far away.
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6. |
Dirty
03:34
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What’s compulsory and what’s compulsive? Is it an instinct for sex or salvation? Or can’t you tell? There is a need to know rain from sweat. You can hide, you can crawl, dig your holes in the ground but you can’t swim. You’ve got so many names – archaic Latin phrases – but they all mean filth. You’re better buried alive. You’re better packed in dirt, unseen and never heard. No one likes dead, naked flesh on the sidewalk. Nobody likes dead naked flesh. You may not breathe but I can watch you drown. Your cover has become nothing but mud.
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7. |
If Dogs Looked Up
03:33
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We all pretend we’re so much older than we are, and then we are. Read the label. It’s all poison. You are making the wrong choices. Dressed in trends, a skeptical Victorian predicting the end. We’re smooth-skinned ancients. Shout out denial to deaf ears and call it something you’re not. Take ether and cloth to wet lips and know there’s something we’ve lost along the way to this nightmare; kicking and screaming, on the way to being so tired of scratching and scraping these jagged lines. Our futures graphed into sinking maps, this life decides. We must plot the next points. No. Don’t relax. No. Don’t lay down. You won’t be here. You can’t afford to trust your kind, your planet or your mind to fix itself. It won’t be fine.
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8. |
Melt
03:02
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Disregarding the physics and given the proper neglect, could your skin melt and you pores dissolve? Could gravity draw each follicle closer to bone, deep into your flesh? And what's holding you together right now? Is it fear or respect or a splinter of each boring underneath your skin? A perpetual irritation of hope, a subcutaneous curse of attention to keep your nerves sensing and synapses firing, expulsion reflexive. Take your physics and add them up right now. What have you done, and why, with them?
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9. |
Stop To Breathe
03:58
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Cast your shadow carefully to guide you but not give you away. Throw no sparks and lower your profile. These motions risk notice. These hours are too bright for pupils this wide and today is far too loud a day to be searching for a better way to hear you. Listen to yourself your larynx and your choice of diction. Listen to your voice, inflections wrought with fear. Listen to your footsteps and the labored muted exhalations coupled with the frantic intake- dirty air, heart palpitations, system fed intoxication born from desperate concentration. Stand still. Don’t move a muscle. Solace lies in fear.
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10. |
Monkeys
02:51
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It’s been a while since we crawled out. Is mother asking how tall we can stand? Our muscles ache. Our knees are scraped. Stop waiting. The scar’s not fading. The wound is still red and tender. Prognosis pending, get a clean dressing. Stay dry. Post haste – assign a headline. Make it fodder for fiends. Sensationalize it. Cut it down. What tomb has been raided to unleash these ghosts? What lost incantation need we recite? You know it’s just science winding your watch up. You won’t see the price paid, not from this side of the grass. Calculate your social security. See if it floats. Give gold for sand. Heeding demand, build faster. Build faster still. We’re just trying to stay dry.
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11. |
Posters All Over Town
02:47
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There are no words. We’ve painted them out. We can’t even haunt. There’ll be no mark, no chop, no characters to read or count –a blank page. Start over without and do it again. Suffering. An innocent hand, but never again brand new. Do it again, with hope and no history weighing us down. Have new words for water. An innocent hand to break virgin soil and question its’ worth. When gagged and bound, we cannot haunt.
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Seconds Prior Boston, Massachusetts
DIY digicore for the masses!
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