1. |
Cartoon Logic
03:33
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think you're wily, right beside me,
sight-eye on my skin;
I dress up like Liberace,
kick you in the shin
Singing birds and dancing bees in
dinner coats and hats
let you know it's open season;
you squeeze on your hunting cap
You're in lust.
I'm in danger.
You're in luck:
I can't change ya
You'll end up in institutions,
wearing my old disguise
I'll wind up back in the Briars
with Xs for my eyes
You're in lust.
I'm in danger.
You're in luck:
I can't change ya
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2. |
Sunshine Capital
04:06
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Sunshine Capital of the World,
built on a broken back,
Home of the lonely girl
picking up after
all the slack
from sociopaths and charming slackers;
she writes spells to mask attackers
from themselves, and
from each other, and
from their mothers –
Trying to learn to love what smothers in the
Sunshine Capital of My Heart:
missing you every day
bummer to live apart
when new days start with:
CSA flags waving above
your CSA share, left with love
while children at the shooting range
scare bored suburban boutique gays,
and all
smelling so fine:
dry grass and red wine
Sunset Empire in the West,
feeding you blood-blessed greens
Baby, who knows you best?
Get laid to rest
where the sun goes down like alcohol
among the redwoods' lungs, with all
the joy of curing something small –
here's headache for your Tylenol
and all
smelling so sweet:
asphalt and dry heat
...and if the sky, Smog Monster brown
or Caribbean Enya blue,
could spare a pissing afterthought
for shady queens the likes of you
I'd be the
Sunshine Queen of the Whole North State,
raisin in all that sun
hell at a honey rate,
lovin to hate to
drive in spirals underneath
the hazy sky, the swelling buzz
I get it's rich to call this grief
but headache is as headache does
and I
am feelin so down
I wanna tell the whole town
We've got the sun
We've got the sun
We've got the sun feelin so down
she wants to burn the whole town
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3. |
You Called
04:23
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When you called,
I checked my voice for the woman you want
+ she didn't show
She's caught in infinite appointments,
oils & ointments away...
I dream of you,
out like a light on the clinic floor
I hear your voice
say "Sister, isn't this what you're in it for?"
"Daughter, isn't this what you wanted – this
helplessness and wantonness?"
Half of what I say, I mean to swallow
and most of what I swallow I should spit
Cause if you whistled right, I'd probly follow,
and if you raised your pipe, I'd take the hit
And it's not right:
I never learned how not to melt on sight
I wake up hard
in the middle of a mare(')s(-)long night,
+ try to purge what I've been addled with,
(remember men that I've been saddled with)
Well the truth is you terrified me enough
When you were just an omen of my lie
These guilty dreams I get of murdering you don't end
But I bet you love it and you'll never die
Not your girl
Not a shadow of your empty dad
Not your pearl
Not the oysterless opal you wish you had
From my cloud, to the stream of things
(as if it mattered, in the scheme of things)
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4. |
La Brea
03:31
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In an age (or 80),
they'll reconstruct your face,
pose you in your furs, and
they'll keep your case so clean...
Slower prey are walking
Smaller cats've lived
Runts and disappointments
can slip through sieves like this sometimes
You get sucked down by a little bad luck
You better look good when they dig you up
when they dig you up
It creeps above your ankles
You shut your reason down
Your body couldn't handle
the shriek it ought to let out
You get sucked down by a little bad luck
You better look good
when they dig you up
when they dig you up
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