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Insect Fingers
03:47
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I’ve got bugs all over me, insects of regret that taste like batteries. They’re always fucking buzzing in my ear, attachment like insect pins. Codependent germs and worms and dog shit. I woke up sweating, life’s been a nightmare since I discovered the growth. The GI said it was a skin tag, it doubled in size in a month. I think I need a second opinion, man. It’s like every aberrant thought I’ve ever had blossomed into something malignant. I could write a fucking book on body horror. Suddenly my mortality had a name, I called it Francis the Black Piss That Kills Flowers. It’s funny how you can want to die every day of your life until the universe drops an exit into you lap. Then all of a sudden life is precious. It kept growing inside of me until I found another doctor and made an appointment. Fuck!! She’s hot?! Goddamnit the nurse is hot too. Will my humiliation ever end? Don’t you fucking laugh at me. You’re gonna die laughing.
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2. |
Flight of the Zodiac
02:46
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Welcome to my nightmare, Babyface. This is no Mickey Mouse murder spree. It’s Zodiac speaking. To be or not to be? whether 'tis nobler humility or obsession? I eat oranges in bed now. It feels so good, you should try it sometime with your French girl. To be or not to be? That is the question. What is more nobler than dissection? I know it’s not ok to take a life, but why should I deny myself the pleasure of watching them die? We all have to die some day Babyface. Dave Franco, James Franco, Seth Rogen, Ari Graynor, Alison Brie, Jacki Weaver, Paul Scheer. Zac Efron with his Ted body. Everyone in better shape than me has gotta die. Haha what a story Mark. Zac Efron
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3. |
Harvest Lane
04:54
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My first memory is sticking a key in an electrical socket. Then wanting to be a fireman. We used to smash our toys when we got tired of them. Then we tried to dig a hole to China. One of the older boys brought me behind the couch, made me pretend I was a girl. I’ll never forget the orange and brown fabric. We let my pet rabbit loose and threw rocks at it. Lighting fires, pissing in the toy box. Being a kid was weird. Don't tell my mom what I’ve done. The next thing I can remember is waking up one day to my mom not being there, and her blood smeared everywhere. Footprints all over the kitchen, splashed on the TV cabinet. It was so red. True Crime books always tell you it’s brown, but I remember it being really red. Not like a wound but like a dog’s dick. Don’t tell my mom what I’ve done. Now I just let it eat at me. The distractions are pointless. Drinking and smoking, snorting, running, popping, laughing, and cumming. Honest Comedy. Relics of repressed memories pieced back together right where it all went wrong. Pull back the skin to see my smile, grinding my teeth until they’re loose. Were you lucky enough to drift out of your body at the perfect moment to watch innocence die? When it happens, it’s beautiful as it is horrible. The misery of an escape I can barely facilitate.
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4. |
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Introspection brought me to the bottom of the barrel. In debt to mistakes I collect. I’d like to believe someone’s watching over me. (The) Blade keeps missing my neck by inches. I’ve run out of patience and antiseptic for these wounds from suffering fools. Squirming and burning. You say good luck like you know something I don’t. You’ve made your bed, it’s time to lay in it. But you’d rather stay up all night pissing and moaning. The sky’s not laughing with you, it’s laughing at you, you idiot. I for one don’t owe you dick, so I’ll take your half-witted attempt at an insult on the chin and be done with it. Devoid of even a modicum of self awareness to realize you’re the problem. Instead you hold everyone around you hostage with never-ending drama. Fucking clown shoes, you fucking joke. You say good luck like you know something I don’t. You say goodbye like it’s already my funeral.
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Infinity Land Waterbury, Connecticut
CT sludge/noise rock. Ugly music for ugly people.
Honest Comedy LP (7 tracks) now available via The Ghost is Clear Records.
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