1. |
Monster in the Cupboard
03:57
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The monster in the cupboard wants to control me
It said "Fancy a game of 'Break As Many Antiques As You Can'"
Now we all know that these kinds of people are sore losers
But he doesn't care
He just insists that I do all the work around here
Grab your suitcases and trap him
Because he's just another nuisance to this nightmare of a home
Yes, he's just another nuisance to this nightmare of a home
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2. |
Buzzsaw
08:06
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The crests lay upon the wall
Blood, sweat and tears intermittently scrawled
Chivalry hanging by long thick metal wires
Blued steel in front of a raging fire
Skulls rain from the ceiling and sky
Black, red and yellow, like the emblems implied
It's time to face the coat of arms and say your personal prayer
Because when the banner strikes you down you'll wish you were theirs
It's a bit hard living in one dimension
You never quite know which direction you're going
Sudden skyquakes knock everything over
Like a regular Mr. Game and Watch, game over
Sometimes everything looks different
I see clay converging and changing
Some have called my home a fracture
From the wonky drawings half seen
The bleats of royal men, individuals and cohorts
Get up on your feet and watch their attitudes contort
Running for your life, you climb the scaffold with gusto and faith
Jump in the crowd, kill the hordes, we have a brand new saint
Now you are the one who carries on
Continue the craft of generations long gone
Something to stare at in awe and glee
But one of the others must go. Which one will it be?
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3. |
Tonacahituatl
08:34
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Sleeping stone that lost the war
Shifting slowly towards the world
Subterranean warrior
Unredeemed against the horror
The grinding sinews given flesh
Synaptic disarray blessed
Memory corridors don't know
This rematch that's been bestowed
Don't look into her eyes
Granite more than a disguise
Hydra snake heads cobra spit
Supernatural will trump wit
No mirrors in this cold underworld
Water drained as chaos unfurls
Nowhere at all yet everywhere
Echos reverbate like stares
Hissing sounds as stones crack slowly
Terror rises, wind starts blowing
Never seen while concrete envelops
A lone soldier of thousands blocked
Stalactite splits her head
The beast has fallen dead
Pavement turns flesh once more
Frozen in time, abhorred
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4. |
Noodle Moon
01:29
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5. |
A-Prior
04:10
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Push me into the ground
I don't know where the hell I am
There are men knocking each other out
The salt of the earth has dehydrated the soles of my feet
I'll wash it all down once I get out of here
No exit sign; deceitful language
Restore me
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6. |
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Watch as I burn the midnight oil, tossing and turning with every step without a second's thought, solving complex problems and memorizing long patterns inside my mind. I know that I am doomed. Destruction was imminent from the very start. When you destroy something you are sacrificing its total value for something far better than what it used to be. Many have tried and it had brought them nothing but good fortune. Not me, I'm just a lonely kid waiting for his turn to leave the nest. Above me is the ceiling made of asbestos and the popcorn patterns that I've become so familiar with. There are cobwebs forming. They were made by a huge horde of spiders crawling across it. I wouldn't destroy them, that would be cruelty, and I would get nothing out of it. I want them to live with me. I want them to be my new family. I want to pray with them at the dinner table every night, thanking them for what they've done to me, and how I can continue living. I want them to make my bed my burrow. I thread floss through my nose and out my mouth so that they have something to suck on, especially the babies. I hope these spiders continue to make me an abode, so that I can escape this dreaded reality and enter the fantasy I have always wished for. I know it won't be easy, but I assure you it will be worth it.
So what are you supposed to do when your daily bread goes stale?
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7. |
Clear
05:25
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We’ve all broken a heart
And maybe a bone
Sometimes a tooth
Probably bread
Let’s raise a glass
To a broken soul
We can take the projection
And put it above
The highest vibration
So it can make its way to heaven
Fiat money is accepted
Pay what you want
Keep it floating in the vortex
Until the green light is switched off
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8. |
The Counting
04:37
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Cyclone circle
Endless hurdle
By this we can still grow
Weather shifting
I am drifting
Into expansive glow
Never let this go
Scavenge like a crow
Tranquillity sown
Shifting within bone
Becoming endless
With growing swiftness
Our cascading hope
The serene grope
From black to gold
The healing cold
Contrasts perpetuate throughout
Naked cities
Concrete pretty
Away from desert drought
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9. |
Raxacoricovarlonpatorius
07:13
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10. |
Hexagram 25
09:50
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Picture, if you will, a shrine with length 1 on all sides. It's made of marble and surrounded by a moat.
Entering the shrine you notice four altars, one in each corner of the (only) room.
The light reflecting off of them shoots straight up to a white object on the ceiling, and no one has been able to see the etching carved within it without being struck blind. The indecipherable has left me oblivious.
There's no need to take it further. I can divert my intelligence elsewhere. I don't need to know the most important questions of life and be left with a debt I will never repay in full.
It's as if I'm returning to something elastic, like a cartoon. Claymation. Stop motion. Devotion. Flexible, indestructible, and INNOCENT.
Put down the wine and sponge, break the lock (digest it if necessary), and remove the garments that forbid you of sight. Roam in the fields, the public parks, the playgrounds we used to thrive in. Bathe your room in the fluorescent white light of a surgeon, and extract the darkness that covers the floor.
Rejecting the law intentionally to unmask your true self, the baby-faced soul whose life is defined by the caesium atom. It's only after we shed the dead cells that we view the world with literal fresh new eyes, as if every day was the first day.
The following day a crowd impossible to number were bathed in a saturated orange light, their flesh illuminated by the twinkling of the dust particles blowing in the wind.
The light's intensity grew but their eyes were not affected, for they knew they had risen above the darkness clouding the people forever.
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Refusal Knot Toronto, Ontario
what happens when a musician and a non-musician work together? hell. that's what happens.
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