1. |
...is violence
02:22
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The whole world and a rope
blossoms this success, this violence
where shame spins long, promising tales you can feel,
legends and myths you can touch.
Come with me, let my stories pull you in.
Come with me, let the endings buy you out.
Tattoos of acronyms on our backs.
Dollars for every part of us.
thieve our sights into the ends - we're never where we are.
Steal ourselves into the ends - we're never where we are.
When everything is made to grow
we’ll all drown in the overflow.
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2. |
mercaptan
02:27
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Silent steps like a snake.
You wear your skin so well - you hold your bones to sell.
Spew tumbleweeds, party favors aimed for the breeze.
Gripped.
You confuse dolls for people
a savior and spin
platform for purpose
words and spit.
I can’t look away -
from your dreams, you’re a sniper.
From the back seat, you are god.
We give ourselves to you.
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3. |
life insurance
02:17
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Welcome to my makeshift bed, my leased home.
They’d have us deranged like a mirror, wading through time in a blow-up pool.
Arranged pickups and fixed bidding wars, pocketed change claim
oppressively bright days of 9 to 5 - pray for another flood.
Wishing our lives away.
Legacy is gossip is tepid water
Boiled by another’s hand.
We write our names on dotted lines and office lunches to
protect from our fellow crooks.
Welcome to my deathbed, my timeshare.
Take a bath in this currency exchange
we’ve agreed to live.
We’ll rehearse the handshake, the move-in day.
We’ve agreed to live
and die renting this life.
We’ll die renting this body.
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4. |
hookworm
03:18
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We walk tall. Snakes biting at our heels.
Thin glass between our plastic souls and parasites.
We walk tall.
Look to the birds dying at windows.
Imagine how much more’s in store for you.
Look at the flowers wilting under my thumb.
Imagine how much more is left to come.
Birthed feet first, crawled ashore to collapse.
Every numbered hair sewn back into the dirt.
Predicted, but the way is what it is.
We hold our worth to be unforgotten.
Look to the birds dying at windows.
Imagine how much more’s in store for you.
Look at the flowers wilting under my thumb.
Imagine how much more is left to come.
We don’t have a home.
We were made to crawl.
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5. |
nosedive
03:07
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I’ve seen enough - the smoke blows through my eyes. And there's nothing to do, but breathe in the glowing fire of plastics and wastelands and net worths and scraped barrels licked clean. I've seen it all.
I’ve had enough - we eat through our own homes. Rubbing coins to dust and coughing up blood. This dirtied, silver air - a knife to my lungs and I can’t take in anymore. I’ve had it all.
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Lower Automation Illinois
Noise-adjacent mathpunk from Illinois.
