1. |
Papaya
02:36
|
|||
|
Jesus is in retrograde
You birthed worm of
Worm of Want
why won't you think of Papaya?
why won't you say its name?
Temptation of crisis
Salvation on a shelf
How are you all the same?
Instrument of fear
Benedictine on your arm
an avocado on an autumn day
Why won't you think of papaya
why won't you say its name
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
but we are all there
wasting/smelling
the black in the air
addiction in the vents
relief is the coolant
release is the coolant
a dais for cryptic condoms
and I find myself
lapping
licking
sipping
cemented
forgetting the things you did
saccharine dreams
sashaying the line between
compassion and insincerity
|
||||
3. |
Rat (Hopefully the Boy)
06:20
|
|||
|
ragged tongue
with rusted lips
woke up gone
like you wouldn't be missed
leafy words
mossy phrases
snarling big city dicks
in worn out places
not young long
deviled in the daylight
a golden houred con
our atrophied blonde god
is decaying in my car
dystrophic destroyer of your con
vapid tongue
tired lips
woke up gone
like you'd go un-missed
leaking words
mouthy phrases
tiny town dicks
in sworn out places
not young long
I couldn't bare it all
but your pride tried
your sticky finger eyes sip up
you're sticky
the pollen is your poison
the pollen is yours
a mantra:
limitations are priceless
limitations are yours
|
||||
4. |
Hellhole
01:29
|
|||
5. |
In Your Beak
04:51
|
|||
|
Shifting Superiority
In your Beak
Control
In your Jaws
Demands
Placating Boring Fresh
Fixing Femininity
Manipulating Vulnerability
to Assure
you won't Fuck with me
Noble Decorations
Preplanned Presentations
Display Enough Demands
Configurate Masculinity
Dictating Longing
My performance a Sash
In your Beak
Control
In your Beak
Control
|
||||
6. |
Data
03:15
|
|||
|
You can read
My diary
Learn my secrets
Sell them back to me
Did I see this, in a dream?
Did I see it, on TV?
Is this Art?
Or an Advertisement?
Is this Art?
Or an advertisement?
Is this Art?
Or an advertisement?
Watching you, watching me
Watching you, watching me
Nothing to hide
Nothing to fear
Nothing to hide
Are you alive?
Nothing to hide
Nothing to fear
Nothing to hide
Are you alive?
Watching you, watching me
Subjugating interiority
Fabricating inferiority
Subjugating interiority
Fabricating inferiority
Watching you, watching me
Watching you, watching me.
|
||||
7. |
Reckoner
04:02
|
|||
|
Reckoner
They got you clawing at each other
Bloated Man
they got you like sardines
In the can
Swollen Man
He got you drinking all of his juice
Cold Steel Man
He got you hatin' all of the you's
they got you, they got you, they got you
Reckoner
Convinced you into Apathy
Harbinger
of your entropy
they got you they got you
they're not here
bestial complacence
you're not there
pack like compliance
you're not there, you're here
|
||||
8. |
End Game
03:50
|
|||
|
was it- was I, a spice?
to be commodified,
to over-season
to wonder how much of I is allowed in I
is it living? It it mine?
execute intention
tender of attention
spoiled with a garden
keening pawns and paper
collecting in the red
exhausting moral agenda
spoiled with a garden
seeing a sighing dusk
watching
cracks in the sky
looking back
at all you must leave behind
brokers of exquisite dreams
collectors in tragedy
gaining gold at the cost of meat
worship the pillared
the misers
who twist your life into a commodity
execute intention
tender of attention
spoiled with a garden
keening pawns and paper
collecting in the red
exhausting moral agenda
spoiled with a garden
reaching to hold a hand
knowing the palm is greased
finding more distance than before
you look behind you
at a closing door
was it was I a spice?
to be commodified, to over-season
to wonder; how much of I
is allowed in I?
brokers of exquisite dreams
collectors in tragedy
is it living? is it mine?
gaining gold, at the setting of the cost of meat
worship the pillared
the misers
who twist your life into a commodity
|
||||
9. |
Wait
03:31
|
|||
|
My baby plays it cool
But my baby plays no fool
I hear you mumble in your sleep
About a love you could not keep
The night is short when you're awake
To talk to me and kiss my face
I sip on tea, and hear for trains
You throw the fish back in the lake
I hear you talking in your sleep
About a love you could not keep
My baby's heart is gold
But my baby's eyes are cold
I hear you cry out in your sleep
About a love you could not keep
|
||||
10. |
Trout
06:33
|
|||
|
Sound has design
Someone has replaced
my feet
with a woman's.
A trout hangs
in the windowsill
and there's a crackling n' cackling
of my wings
and they take off
without me
with a woman's feet
Vicious fish
were laughing
we never did know
why they're laughing
my eardrums explode
my lungs collapsed
I was almost out
but I gasped you back
I spit up my teeth
I laid on my back
and in each blow
found it harder to react
|
||||
TERMINATor Seattle, Washington
TERMINATor is Lauren Rodriguez, Albie, and Veronica Dye
If you like TERMINATor, you may also like:
supported by 4 fans who also own “Placate Boring Flesh”
I thought Pantheon Of Me and Mazy Fly were the best her music could get... I was wrong!! (:
go to album
supported by 4 fans who also own “Placate Boring Flesh”
The mood is perfect. Looking forward to more of this stuff.
go to album
On “Spirit Breeze,” Dylan Gilbert starts from folk roots, but gradually adorns his songs with rich textural elements.
go to album
Sweetly strange indie rock with a dreamy vibe and skittering rhythms sounds like it was made by angels.
go to album
Depersonalisation
by Nite Fields
featured on Bandcamp Radio Feb 3, 2015
go to album
Infusing live drums with glitched-out guitar fuzz and politically charged bars, Youniss reckons with a world still entrenched in anti-Blackness.
go to album
Four new rowdy, impossibly catchy songs from this post-punk group who bridge rough-edged New Zealand-style pop with darker, steelier sounds.
go to album
