1. |
Nooks
02:29
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I've got nothing but my open hands cuz we're all just trying our best.
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2. |
Ice-9
01:55
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she slurred that punk rock songs are just so beneath her and that the life we lead is always such a bore. and as I wrapped her tapeworm fingers over mine, I’ve never been so sure that some such bullshit will kill us all. but aren’t we all just as small?
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3. |
Interpolation
02:32
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intended consequences with a side of avarice. the green-eyed telegraph violently eyes the door and slices right through me. then sad to say, but we’re all spitting diamonds through paper plates with little thought for the sad or the lonely who don’t really want our help anyway. apathy pulled from the sun. landmines, war crimes, disguise. we’ve already won. then through the dives and diners there’s got to be a simple thought of silence without empathy. apathy pulled from the sun. as told, not sold, withhold. your time will come. I’ll drive a Tercel til I’m 85 when I’ll buy me a houseboat and live on the bay off other people’s hard work and cigarettes will always be romantic.
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4. |
Crannies
02:36
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5. |
Sanding Warmlings
02:27
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has your dad ever died? at 21, singin death is like singin God. I’ll take you to the streets and show you how it feels to mean nothing. one day we’ll all feed the clouds, eyes open wide, tongues nailed down, glowin blue and shakin hands. time to spare, kill to time. never mind, never mind. He loves me. free to crime, names to rhyme. never mind, nevermind. He loves me. teach us to sing.
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6. |
Yr Boi Gangster Hat
03:15
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there’s nothing done here, the stealers are still beggars. songs without names. take the reins, life’s a string. we’re all the same. and every day on my way home the clouds are all grass stains on my sexiest jeans. all your sexiest things, they get me every time, yeah they get me every time. let’s be ordinary. let’s be boring. now I see that darkness smilin. so live it up, smoke them cigs. we’ll live forever. feel my pain, I’m profound. so write this down.
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7. |
Admiral Hip=Hop
04:39
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the commas in our fingerprints belie the foggy other-thans that fly like seagulls round the wedding in my mind. rice enough for everyone but not the strength to die. and if every soul you meet tells the truth, why even ask them? why don’t you ask them? if every drunken prophet speaks the truth, why even listen? why won’t you listen? in the love you find, you’re nervous all the time.
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