1. |
A Few Minutes
05:46
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My appreciation stands to ovate, hailing all and all of A through G. Perfect timing perfectly plays on. When my Father taught me, "nothing is so." I realized he was wrong. Here it is; I feel a change in the sound. I thank you for choosing me. I think you might want to stay. Here it is in the best way. Haven't you heard the translation, of heartbeats and veins playing along? Sing us toward a direction; a path of instinct, passion, and hope. Play our songs and we shall pass on. In here, it's the real thing for a few minutes and always, I think you might want to stay. I want to hear it say, "Here it is in the best way."
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2. |
Breakin' Shit
03:47
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Come on, let's smash this glass. You got the sledge, I got the hammer. Take it down, smash against the ground, obliterate the styrofoam homes along with the wired hills. Burn up three forms of ID, I've got proof enough with love and gasoline. Planting seeds of ruin, sweep up the ashes of TV screens and diamond barrettes. This was never a dispute, just an agreement to do so. Four boys finishing off their part of the world. Set fire to the water meant for the grass, tear down these road signs for freedom at last. Given ill my brain my face my heart my arms my skin. Refuse the payoff bribe this Saturday night on the marquee lights. Exploding bright up upon the fire of our tools to end this right.
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3. |
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
02:58
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I can see your blue horizons, pink and blue over washed out gold. And I see what you are behind the pretty things, I see how you pay for the things you do. Suffer for the evil in you. To be the broken wing that grounds you, be the slave and the chains and the slaver. And your misery will flow until the end of time, as you pay for the things that you do. Suffer for the devil in you. Be the saw and the three-legged chair on the floor; revenge in its cruelest form is when your own black heart puts a knife in your back. You'll die in pain for the things you do. Revenge, even with yourself.
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4. |
Vinegar & Baking Soda
06:15
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In a movie lullaby with my hear newly furnished with a change in tones. I run through the most beautiful no-name city, to find my one true love. I run in step to the soft single of a rising star, blaring through he romantic architecture of an unconscious swarm of popcorn. Fitting of me like the simple terms of vinegar and baking soda, I run. Passing million dollar stoops, home of young struggling bees in black. I hand her a fichus after a series of quirky mishaps and comical blunders involving a flower shop fresh out of flowers. We kiss. Colored cuts and bruises. To end at the beginning with the phrase, "It's a long story."
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Scream Hello New Brunswick, New Jersey
Too loud for the New Brunswick basements, too stupid to make the big-time.
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