1. |
Confession Bound
02:51
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Probed my conscience
With a cigarette
Lit it on my intensity
Lurked silently
Through backyard violence
Came to find my cloister seat
Oh Father, Father Looseleaf
You know I did some things
That make me frown
Tropologically sub rosa
I am confession bound
You know those fuck up's
That are worthwhile
They ain't no fuck up's at all
When I visit them
With a patching trowel
Unceremoniously smooth the wall
I roll my step down
Jefferson Ave.
Reproach doesn't need to make a sound
Then some times
My spirit stu-stu-stutters
And I am confession bound
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2. |
Dear Policeman, I am God
04:50
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I imagine you on all fours
Pissing, farting, shitting, vomiting
So at the time I might feel remorse
I don't feel nothing
Dear Policeman, I am God
I strip to my bare ass
Laugh like a consumptive weasel
Shoot holes through Christ and saints
As they gaze back from crippled easels
"
I have my own merry-go-round
Except the horses whiny strangely
I collected them with a disarming smile, saying:
"Why don't you come with me... baby"
"
Parole free my psychology
To get caught how it will
I determine the ruling for your offenses
And, well... I've decided to kill
The Vatican
MPAA
NAACP
Propaganda
In academia
Cultural decrees
Resentment
Poppy morals
Bureaucracy's need
Now that the ethical vision
Is perfunctory...
"
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3. |
Body Mine
03:08
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Why can't
I die?
Outside nature always fine
Body mine
Zipped up in gorilla armor
Bones, muscles, sinews
Thoughts can hike away
Body sensations continue
Circulated tender for
Limited length
Conjoined flesh ATM
Of a leading bank
Slam dancing bucked between
Pleasure and pain
Glandular voices chanting over again
Mitochondrian death march
Growled to continue by Karl Marx
"
Desperately trying to defend, own
Seen as stone for a pyramid of bone
A carcass dragged by celebrities' jaws
Molesting hands of predetermined applause
Love of tickling centipede caresses
Empirical eye, pinning back layers
Birthing meowing harlequin babies
Gorilla rapes for more
Eats the premies
"
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4. |
Broken Condom
05:07
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(Broken condom)
Stay naive and quarantined
Solipsistic, a real Christine
Eyes looking outward
Open cuts to the air
Insecure immune systems
Can no longer bear
Contagion castigate
Anar-conserv-apparel skin flare
Voices hacking musically
Drum the funeral snares
Perfectly messy hair
Fussed like a button for snooze
The irony-sores of rub-on tattoos
Fading with the wear
Dress-up and the cigarettes
Still candy in mouths
Mom and Dad anxiously indulgent
With the kids still playing house
"
Bed hidden no need for rest
Epileptic poses
For strobing cat scans
Unlicensed on lookers take notes
Cannibalizing dead queens
Wearing their skin as leather
As they walk around outside
Shivering in nice weather
"
I tried to pull out, too
In self defense, I shrug
My misplaced, misfit, mystical love
When She comes for me and it's too late
I'll be...
Lazarus
On a spring mattress
Waiting for an invitation...
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5. |
You're Damned
04:37
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You,
Slanted hip,
Like a house built on a swamp
Your naked skin white washed
Glowed anemia
Torches licked the temple walls,
Crackled in the midnight glade
You ,
The priestess, clammy hands,
Led strangers away from their serenade
And in the orange haze
The idols changed
Expressions at the sight of the service
You're damned
Incense rose,
The entrance closed,
The panting and sighing grew louder
All the while,
Ardor riled,
Abandon shook the profane altar
"
And I from my armchair pulpit,
Continuing to preach,
That you'll burn
For what you did,
Beyond mercy's reach
Excommunicate,
Denied the sacraments
Of affection
Left to be buried
In the barren land of the pagan
But last night the full moon set
On the horizon of a lover's chest
Who I never promised anything to
Yet love's expected none the less
Apartment wall burst like a libertine's spleen
Street lights blinded with triune chalk fingers
Wrote all over
Ever surface
"You'd better hide your finger"
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6. |
Boneville Break in Blues
04:19
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Boneville broken into
As it broke into you
Buffalo stampeding
To drown in the Rouge River goo
Skeletal Amerindians
Toss and turn in the sod
Who's there in the mansion?
A medium moans: "Not God"
Boneville break in blues
You circumambulate
Detroit's geist near and afar
An anonymous pilgrim
Crook cadavers superimposed on your car
From the time the glass salted
The sirloin of your seats
And the bitterness made flesh
Went burrowing in the meat
"
You some spiritual double agent?
Greasing yourself up for the uteral return?
Self assigned at the third world in-skirts?
Watching the smokestack lingum burn?
Journalists jack-off on the ruins
Irradiated wet American dreams
Pathetic as the passions of an adolescent
Touching himself before mother screams
ahhhhhhh...
You've lost feeling in two limbs
Now you can only save one
Business car on an Amtrak arm
The other shaped Fleshlight fun
Relax with an open can
Of PBR on Alter
What father do you return to
Prodigal son when you falter?
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7. |
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Went down to the Crossroads
To sell my soul to the devil
Forgot I already pawned it for a piece-of-ass
That wasn't even close to legal
I'll make good on it Satan
Give me a chance to steal it back
For now, this I.O.U. will have to do
Hmmm, I'm not sure what favor to ask...
Always havin' fun
Non Serviam
Take your kicks and run
Non Serviam
Does the Make a Wish Foundation
Answer requests for exorcisms?
If so, go and fetch Rimbaud
I want to see him fuck the Blessed Virgin
As she sucks off her Beloved Son
While Buddha voyeurs masturbating
Later Muhammad
Buys the tape
So excited he
Takes a cattle prod to his harem
"
My innocence
Possibility of good
I'll use to gain the trust of all
Make everyone believe they're good people
Push them to an unforgivable fall
As for me
I want pleasure
And evil teasing what's known
Overgrowth
Beyond confines
Tumors, overcrowding... bone
Cocaine ain't enough
Fuck ain't enough
Blood ain't enough
Death ain't enough
Eternity ain't enough...
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8. |
I Did Wrong
05:29
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I was a hand standing demon
Freudian flamenco on my taint
I got so sick with desire
If I had a need I'd faint
Fixed solutions with more problems
How long if ever until...
I did wrong
Dope sick
Needed a pond scum fix
Walked out on salvation
Bored of a lack of pussies framing dicks
Then an experience un-mistaken
Lacking obfuscation...
I did wrong
(Make good on it now... like this)
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Robin Parrent Hamtramck, Michigan
Singer/Songwriter mixing folk blues, death rock, garage punk and sludge metal.
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