1. |
VERKNALLT
03:51
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I see the paper handshakes, can they murder?
suffocated by the stacks and these five wall rooms
I can't relate to you or anything inside of me
the root of my disconnection lies in cement
am I a victim? of procedure?
define victim.
I'm always waiting to fall asleep, and you're fading away like a government affair
I'm always waiting to fall asleep, but I heard that "concrete breeds apathy".
Now I see
----------------------
I have seen the look you gave to me,
eyes cut to the quick of we,
broke to the surface to see what was
underneath (rose washed floorboards) I buried what we
remembered the limbs, the wrists, the fists
stood in the door, took a swing at my metaphor
a copy of a copy of a copy
xerox the words
blot out the vowels
string up a scene till all meaning devoured
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2. |
DWAYNE
04:07
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Diseases of the rind, peel it back, spit it out
Bitter peel bitter flesh, peel it back, spit it out
I've finally found a coffin that is warmer than my room
I've finally found the bite of life without collecting wounds
Peel it back, spit it out
You can't stop the water from coming in
You've cant stop once the cracks have formed
Using fiction to function
what's there to believe in anymore?
Using stories to tell stories
of what could have been should have been
Thought I'd take a break from all this negativity
Set aside today to swallow the sun, my sun
and maybe bring the moon down
I've finally found a coffin that is warmer than my room
I've finally found the bite of life without collecting wounds
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3. |
MR. DR.
05:45
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I'm only magic, accident and tragedy, oh, my whole anatomy is one tangled mistake. I swam out past the breakers and it was all to meet my maker...maybe I can make you my maker? maybe you can make me break.
It works my muscles, but not my mind.
A saturated vision, of two on blue.
Question suggestions, like "where does family start?"
Stepping back from the folds of self, from obsession and circles
for you to see me
i fold;;collapse
---------------------------------------
The blank canvas, the island of the mind
unmoored, untethered, untied
Seeking soul and its expression, a heart without hands cannot love
Seeking soul....
So open up my head, would polished stone be the same?
open up my head, open up my head
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4. |
THE RUSSIAN MAN
03:27
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Melting down my arms, out my eyes, you make me feel
Melting down my arms and out of my eyes, make me feel
Red and White marbles put in backward, both of my eyes
they see inward - I see myself, no familiar
He said, I don't care. He//She//We said.. I don't care
The velocity of us, rolling time slow, friction of days cold
Its not an itch, its just me, must be.
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