1. |
The Theme To Lot Lizards
11:01
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on eighteen wheels, alone, with just the radio to hold them
the road is long and always lonesome, with no one
with her thumb to the sky, she's a savior
a scene-by-scene reveals ill intent and vengeance
a cloak and dagger plot, with no love left, where none repent
she's been chained to the lot, now for twelve years
when the stakes have been raised through to blackmail
she will play the puppet
dangling right until she takes a life
she's digging deep into a darkness unchecked
shovel after shovel, buried to the neck
he's talking points and cannibal lies
leveraged bids, ordered hits, anything to turn the tide
his gains all trace right back to the bright eyed
no son or daughter should be thread on the spool
of evil men who crave control and live to bend the rules
no kind of penance can be paid for this crime
when the prey is hidden from the public's prying eyes
free reign to fracture skeletal lives
he won't resist, those tempting lips, he'll sink his teeth in every night
feigned interest in addressing her plight
but this drama ends, only when, she pulls the trigger and snuffs out the light
one path to take back into the right
and if her bullets don't kiss the air
her hostage offspring's a meal to be prepared
ample enough motivation now
its not so strange when you know the town
where high heels crack the pavement, drivers with wallets out
bare bone legs all strutting, hourly rate motels
clandestine encounters
penned by the governing hands
with secrecy surrounding
this shoot from the hip romance
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2. |
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this is the place
just come with the mace
i'm nothing but a nervous dissident
this is the face
of your next phase
a cure for power hungry men
this is the pain
now burn that page
your nothing but some fancy dissonance
this is the face
of your next phase
alive or dead it's up to him
(i can feel every tug
its my labor of love)
this is the place
just come with the mace
i'm nothing but a nervous dissident
this is the face
of your next phase
a cure for power hungry men
(can they see me wring my hands
sticking pins in all my plans?)
them "pin-stripes" were right
the poll-makers were fine
cornered for the right to be alone
its been signed
coroner signs your life to the stone
i won't mind
(who should i be taking aim at? i'm confused, i'm sure you see that, but i'll shoot once and they'll both hit the ground)
This is a case
of undead tastes
you're nothing but a permit-pissing ant
this is the face
of an unpaid raise
this filth of power hungry men
this is the trade
you can't get away
with a bag of black sentiments
this is the cage
of your body laid
in a crib of golden trim
(you can't hijack my art
and perforate every part)
this is a case
of undead tastes
you're nothing but a permit-pissing ant
this is the face
of an unpaid raise
this filth of power hungry men
(its vice-like, chasing a long shot goal
graying, tiring, feeling old)
them "pin-stripes" were right
the poll-makers were fine
cornered for the right to be alone
its been signed
coroner signs your life to the stone
i won't mind
(who should i be taking aim at? i'm confused, i'm sure you see that, but i'll shoot once and they'll both hit the ground)
them "pin-stripes" were right
the poll-makers were fine
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3. |
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i've got connections in the valley, and i've come to find a spark
(on the payroll)
sixteen frames per foot of film, hot on the reel
like Charles Schultz had drawn me, forty, fifty years on down the line (time's a-taken its toll)
executive producer; hands off of the wheel
(all we are is the fun part)
And in the meantime
the machine's changing hands
(but all you've done is gone too far)
all the while he writes
long lists of demands
(but all you want is to make it "art")
its a far cry from
his soft loving hands
i know a finger's in the pie i'm not too far away to see
(head shaped like a bowl)
he's paid to take the helm and choose all of the scenes
(time's-a-takin its toll)
"i claim the right to speak" protagonista taking up the reins
he peers through the glass now
third player enters enters the game
(all we are is the fun part)
And in the meantime
the machine's changing hands
(but all you've done is gone too far)
all the while he writes
long lists of demands
(but all you want is to make it "art")
its a far cry from
his soft loving hands
i made you, remember?
i know you'll thank me later
you'll jump through rings of flames
i'll keep you in jeannie's bottle
pillows soft, cork on tightly
golden goose, bring me fortune
only my pen staves off your doom
(all we are is the fun part)
And in the meantime
the machine's changing hands
(but all you've done is gone too far)
all the while he writes
long lists of demands
(but all you want is to make it "art")
its a far cry from
his soft loving hands
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4. |
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i lost my girl to the web
she her fangs on my head
she brewed a potion for me
breathe in three times and you'll see (you'll see)
forget the life you think you're living while you're dying there
these nothings steal your breath, they rob you of your somethingness
download complete
if you hear me buzzing like a worker bee
rest assured, the smoke is to blame
if you feel my face is made to save the screen, know that i
have disembarked, and left behind just a name
just import all your memories, then forget that you're aboard
and then, and only then, we'll play you all the hits
oh it got so god damned lonely on that drive
but the bits are pouring on a stick to join the shepherds of a ship
hell bent on disassociating us with our dna
prelude to the journey taken by our avatars
you can tell us where you want to go
that doesn't mean that you're gonna get there
it's been way too long since it's snowed
well, power down and make yourself invisible
to the sheen of the these masters who control
the amalgamated digibowl of souls
we'll get you home in this box of foil
but you won't be wearing your skin or toes
oh no
(something doesn't seem right
light's all gone from your eyes
liftoff through navy night
upstairs join the chrome flight
would it kill you to try
to think through dreams from last night?
they reached through beams of light
with nobler aim than for fright)
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5. |
010100010
04:32
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6. |
Echocomplexities Part II
06:42
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held through prime time
a static state, lie in wait, plot-
holes to jump through
plan escape, for when the tape stops
know my cold eyes?
spin the wheel, play the field, win
by a landslide
repeat the role of powerful sin
the flashes of gunfire
i can join the games now
the story's a slack line
and the balance has gone south
take my hand in yours, and
we'll leave this glass box
I'll take what i want, leaving you in here to rot
i'll take what i want, leave you wondering how you could not
know my cold eyes
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7. |
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abigail is in the wires
abigail is in the screen
the outside world is cruel, and vibrant
with pixels far too small to see, but i
i'll blow up the inside
leave him stranded, wide-eyed
i won't be the launchpad
his sorry flight
i am not her, she is not me
my parts were made in minds and chinese factories
she's the hero, I can take her name, and do the same as her
i'll find the line to cross, and leave
i'll blow up the inside
leave him stranded, wide-eyed
i won't be the launchpad
i choose to fight
i know too much to stay inside
what better time to be alive?
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bangbakc Portland, Oregon
but the bits are pouring on a stick to join the shepherds of a ship.
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