1. |
So Certain Tall Tales
04:36
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I’m repurposed in the old sense of the word
saccharine to the salvage
struck witness clear palette and then we’re told
mezzanine holds the top shelf
low common in past tense of absurd
long moments to age nightly
twice softened held in place by crackpots
strung out like a postcard
So certain tall tales are never offered
thumbing through lungs appendices
snapped breath of attraction
each coma has an asterisk
fangs tarnished in bold but never curved
fumes held for a daydream
where I’m limbless wigged out and clear blue
touch has memory and redness
front lobe bashed in with friendly jokes
adult gummy chewed lightly
been weeks since the town paved over gold
dig my teeth in quicksand
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2. |
Trace Ghosts
04:57
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bright think in a bind
was happier with less surprise
cashing the cold shit
spewing in Sanskrit
the felt of a weathered prime
and when we first spun
the able was wrought
the smile was stone
when bandy was checked in
we never had an out
the truth is we liked the rum
we wailed and spit the tears back to a cup
a trail dusted in silk sheets
we never had a snooze
the truth is we like the loss
we graze that hand in mouth and chew our tongue
unpack the rays
my throat does swell
gets right with age
then burns in hell
trace ghosts in the wheel well
they rust and shoot themselves in the head
and preach that dirt can cure
the loss of war rations we split
it’s all just fodder
the gown on the fat man
we see his ass hang out
and I thought what a weird third eye to crack
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3. |
Second Strand
04:27
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barring any hangups
I’m gonna seize the rapture
broken thumb on the hurt button
I’m twixt beyond first thought
a lot of strife is second strand
just bong loading the wrong parts
spill me into spit shine
cackling in nose bleeds
and if you see the fucker who stole my mail
tell them the debt doesn’t absolve
at best one inherits magic
pivots to a peep show
a lot of wives leave lipstick
on the end of Virginia slims
making up the markings
of Christian sex in daydreams
kept up on bulk elastic
I’m squeezed in with the salesmen
pitched in my best shoes
I walked out with a bad limp
grey scalp filled fantastic
I dipped into a strange brew
cut loose while tiered off
I’m grouped in with the wrong crew
and if you’re lucky you’ll see shells of trails
the bare bones of a bootleg trip
at least sons of bland habits
downgrade to a day job
a lot of dives don’t kill me
I can breathe in the undertow
sweating out the spirit
of static in the old shows
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4. |
Pharaoh's Plastic
03:09
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I shattered in a circle
my species has never spoke
live in the upper lip
pouch of an upper dope
can anyone field an offer?
can you pass less profane?
painted a greyscale in cancer
the Pharaohs plastic home
my guardian is pilled out
their rotary telephone
I haven’t used one for years
they call me the on the scene
gallup a dollop hindsight
the fisheries never float
I leveled the land of the living
fucking the twine of a rope
Can anyone give me clean piss?
Can you garnish it with rain?
lateral for sinker
the barter sat in my throat
a galaxy as suggestion
free from the prison vote
can anyone sweep the spring?
can you cradle what's there?
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Ryley Walker New York, New York
Guitar and sometimes sing when the people want it.
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