1. |
Angel Gear
06:47
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The Oregon hills have me hanging
hanging by a thread
between unending solitude
and visions of the dead.
California caressed me,
worked its way into my head,
then gave me morbid mornings
and nights of dreary dread.
It seems this road will never end.
When it does, another begins.
I'm sick of measuring mirth and money,
solitude and sin.
So I slip into angel gear
for each freed, forgotten fear,
for each irrepressible tear
you've given me each year.
They say you're living with my mother now,
playing cribbage as you talk about me,
completing crossword puzzles
along with your Irish coffee.
It must be very warm there -
I know 'cause it once was my home.
I know what I am missing.
I know why I'm alone.
It seems this road will never end.
When it does, another begins.
I'm tired of measuring mirth and money,
solitude and sin.
So I slip into angel gear
for each freed, forgotten fear,
for each irrepressible tear
you've given me each year.
I remember the last night I came to you
to tell you the judge set me free.
The way your eyes fell when you heard those words
took all that was left of me.
That door opened and closed too quickly,
but the full moon above me shone
through the rich black blanket of heaven
and I slept in my truck all alone.
It seems this road will never end.
When it does, another begins.
I'm tired of measuring mirth and money,
sanity and sin.
So I slip into angel gear
for each freed, forgotten fear,
for each irrepressible tear
you've given me each year.
Washington awaits with watery skies,
with road signs made of lies,
bright lights and well-worn railroad ties,
all of which remind me of your eyes.
Yeah, I know I said I'd buy you a house
spent the money on dope instead
and I could never argue
when you told me I'd be better off dead.
It seems this road will never end.
When it does, another begins.
I'm tired of measuring mirth and money,
solitude and sin.
So I slip into angel gear
for freed, forgotten fear,
for each irrepressible tear
you've given me each year.
Don't talk to me about luck
I don't give a fuck.
There's nothing left but me and this truck
and soon we'll both be gone.
Don't talk to me about luck
I don't give a fuck.
Soon there'll be nothing left of me or this truck
and you'll sweep out the ashes at dawn.
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2. |
Words Ignite
02:26
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Are you out there tonight
watching words ignite?
Does salt still cling to your skin like a cast?
Do your eyes still strike like a dynamite blast?
Are you out there under skies stretched so tight
they let through pin-points of heaven's light,
barely noticed over streets so bright?
Do you ever venture outside?
Or just stay in with your box of perpetual sound,
old magazines scattered all around,
always certain that your favorite powders abound,
and otherwise no need to make a sound.
Each snap from the wood stove resounds.
So are you out there tonight
nodding off under electric light?
I always knew you'd be the same anywhere.
never getting up from your favorite chair,
and perfecting your nihilistic stare,
and sometimes I wish I was there.
But you don't know me anymore
because your best friend called me a whore
and I went back to Baltimore,
still enraptured in your sacred lore,
and younger than ever before.
So if you're out there tonight.
please watch these words ignite
Be aware as you stare at the fire's light,
you still control your plight
and this is not what you mentioned years ago
when we spoke of how our lives would go.
Oh so unrealistic, I know.
But the ocean still sleeps in your soul.
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3. |
Asshole
02:35
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4. |
All Your Good Sons
11:25
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5. |
Angel Gear
05:49
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6. |
Creature
02:00
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I want to be deep inside myself.
I wear the same clothes every day
I never look in the mirror
Don't expect me to have much to say
Take my hand, call me Creature
Your eyes creep over myself
But I am somewhere deeper
skies of gray, nothing else
The skies, the skies are freezing
and you cannot say I'm pure
I invite you to draw lines on my body
If you don't want to, I'll freeze for sure
You are coming deeper, deeper
I'm deeper inside of myself
Take my hand, call me Creature
Skies of gray, nothing else
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Paisley Nightmare Emeryville, California
One thing band. 2012 - 2017. Weird sounds inspired by the death of the hippie movement and the birth of punk rock. Skewed by disabilities I was dealing with at the time. These are all live single track recordings of the creature playing all of the instruments at once in its cave. Some has been taken down pending review by the artist ... more
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