1. |
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2. |
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The country’s finest military minded
goon squad got shot to swiss cheese
By dudes with ch-ch-chinese rifles, Soviet science
and bullet-proof dungarees
Now these banks of marble guard the spoils of free-market policies
But Russian bears don’t take to starving
So Ivan starts taking pages from Ice-T
It goes!
Angel City hates the shitty hired thugs of the bourgeois
We cheered for a thousand rounds like a
thousand flowers blooming on boob-tube news live feed
Emperor’s guards always get new suits
cut from the fabric of invincibility
But mirrors shatter, smoke scatters
when these bad boys are bleeding naked on TV
It goes!
I know it’s nearly impossible to believe
any of the Capricorn One crap you see on TV
But this two dude impromptu chef show cooked up some meat
And these so-called protectors got served on the street
They made some boom-crack pork chops
AK filleted ham hocks
In a hot lead marinade followed by a pig pate
And I took careful notes that day
(we took careful notes that day)
on the most efficient way to make deep-fried death squad flambe
So thank you for the cooking tips
Illustrated by shot cops and banana clips
And I’m sorry you didn’t make it out with the loot
For what it’s worth here’s a C.T.D.S. thirty bar salute
Yeah!
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3. |
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By the time you read this I’ll be in Phoenix
on a Greyhound to Gilead for sick soul treatment
Don’t know if I’ll make it in time but I gotta try
Because I’m all burnt out from protest pom-poms yelling
“Not in our name!” at carpet smart bombs
All the ritual resistance where the pigs make overtime
But the Lunatic Fringe leaves you lonely and wrecked
and poverty pimps end up with plates to protect
I know there’s got to be another way if we make our hearts brave
Maybe I’ll move like mongoose hunting vampire vipers
Burn holes in bad men like Somoza snipers
Learn a ghost dance to crack the walls of Babylon
Or maybe I’ll lie floating on an Arctic ice floe
A failed and frigid alienated asshole
Still showing icy teeth knowing I gave my best
Whichever the case I’ll try to make it home
and we’ll make up for all the days that capital’s stolen
Sit and listen to the words the New Wind’s blowing
It says:
“Tomorrow’s been cancelled but the next day’s open.”
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4. |
Steamy Times in Silo 9
01:28
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5. |
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Scared Sea Monkey beached on alien shores
Bewildered conscript in a Machiavelli
space-race fuck-face war
Bleached and bloodless
Numb and gutless
Terrible and heartless
make you thank them for the process
Lifestyle goose-step infantry
Congratulations you’re now one of these
Scarred Sea Monkey in a beast gut 6 x 10
Weeps in toilet
Remembers feeling water rushing over skin
Dreams of aquarium glass erosion
endless depths
open ocean
Prays for comet crush collapse
Blow us modern men our funeral taps
Listen Monkeys:
Every operation offers the chance
Searing brain pain
snaps pyscho-surgeon anesthetic trance
Look for other wide-eyed battered baboons
Clutch trembling comrades tight against you
Prepare for End Times coming fast
This modern man world’s not long to last
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6. |
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And you may find yourself in Leviathan’s mouth
Slobber for power or getting mashed between its molars
They’re different chains
but the destinations the same
And so we splish splash in the acid bath
and we might ask ourselves:
“Well, how did I get here?”
Make our best guesses while our flesh digests’s
History’s cockfights caste complexion
Employee bonuses and state correction
Bastard’s bubble held together with surface tension
And you may resolve yourself to doggie paddle in filth
while modern life leeches your living
Well your dream’s deferred and your future’s a turd
So maybe we should set our sights on more illustrious heights
Find a way to leave this hell far behind us
Let a New Day dawn in technicolor yawn
Bacteria bubbling multiplication
Cell to cell collaboration
Surf esophagus to a better destination
You may want to go to Mars you may want to go home
but you can’t barf the system all on your own
We make a mean team White Magiq and me
He gasses the guards and I tie the sheets.
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7. |
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This is a call for Musical War
For songs to sing while kicking at their front doors
Sound tracks to attacks on mental embassies
We call this sound Katyusha Rock ‘n Roll
Made from Mickey Mouse watches and android soul
Might strike its target or sputter out as novelty
We eschew rare grooves and C-note funk
and aim to make dunks out of dynaflex junk
Music missiles burning hot intellectual property
Might shake the flake off rusty robot rumps
or widen up eyes like dusty disco bumps
Cop it, chop it, vomit slop it - tell your own story:
I knew this dude who spent his days in drag
Spent his nights dreaming of a brand new bag
Mother country makes for schizoid personalities
The dutiful opposition makes a double score
Moral outrage and the spoils of war
Leads to a paralyzed perpetrator cop-out crisis of identity
Fuck the crisis! Let’s excise this
Boomer Tumor in our brains distorting out desires
Hunger pangs and growling guts to guide us
Give names to creatures culture built inside us
Like Slick Smooth or White Disgusting
Dialectic Cloudclash or Sound of Lightning
The sky is bursting and blood is raining
My eyes are running, there’s this voice saying...
So we’ll use market missteps that are moldy and old
then we’ll attack with sonic submission holds
And we won’t stop hot rocking until our bodies are cold
and all these bastards are choking on their solid gold
Air’s full of farty flatulence of death machines
so we shoot detourned torpedoes from our submarines
This is Charlie Tango Fresh Breeze 3-19
Copy back sub aquatic if you receive
Sonar signals singing back at me
Cardiac Echoes of affinity
Let’s make the pressure drop drop drop today!
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8. |
Mr. Hood Checks the Name
00:19
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Crisco Thunder Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
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