red giant sunrise

i couldn't sleep last night with that theory in my dreams. my brow just buckled under the weight of our fates in an equation. math went in and out the ears like a god speaking human being. pillows were all that supported an early intellect at rest. sleep walked away from bed to end with restful imagery. smash the snooze linked to a time machines atomic clock. looked away from cathode rays when the stations learned to teach chi to a dawn that could rise and ionize my instincts. the ringing in my ears fell to the pitch of summer screams. some white noise will drown that bright bastard. light waves beyond the sea of suns and swells reflect like hell on the beach. even when i'm not awake i feeling wasted. The melanin in me is not going to save any skin. that cancer i call teeth eats away the smile. i'll be on the beach like a blister in the morning to rise and shine with the end.

groggy guitars and beat drums/brat pack quality

wake up. good afternoon, dick. The eighties were a great place to visit, but... well.. just do the math on the breezeway with the bleacher creatures. The just say no nostalgia... I'll take a hit to the institution that you think is coolest and fucking burn it with the patches that you flag on your backpack. they look half mast ten years remover from roland grise. tired like the quality i had seen on tv in amy henry's eyes. i had a life to live in eighth periods and she had a laugh. too scared to kiss. she had a kid. we need some recess. I'm out. your it. ten years too fucking late.

vulcanized katra

technologies broken sound more spoiled that crazy. malfunctioning jokes make notes that never spoke to me. The artist formally known as full of shit knows smashed amp buzz clips wont meld through blistered fingertips. That chapel's crashed. That hills grounded on hot wired shock waves. i wish the robots hug could fix my broken bug, but breech baby, you're insulated. franchised frequencies sound distresses received, and a still life can advertise at the speed of light. these old episodes have some bad acting in scenes. sounds get sold, but the emotions sound manufactured with out logic. if you live long and prosper pinch my nerve spock rocker.

summertide

the highway home is serpentine with fruits and labors that carry death. The summer smells bovine where the blue bottles repel the lightning bug strikes. swine never lingers long enough to fly to see it's weak levy fall to the riverside. We wade and bathe against red tide until we smell like summertime. tobacco is sweet in our lips and mouths with yellow teeth smiles and black lung sighs. dig a cavity deep enough for little time. a shallow room for smoke and dirt to fill. push peat aside for coffin nails in a grave sealed with tar for winter time. We boil and ferment the chapped lip mash. it cracks and bleeds and burns the inside. pain makes me smile for duplin wine. i pick the scabs and vines of the carolines. farmers launder their shit in sties. washed in currents against their creaking spines. under weight of feathers and tar pitched from pines bath their guilty spirits in burning turpentine.

march against october

pale skin and porcelain teeth are not eluding me. they shine like a beacon in the shade at midnight. security was left in your chat room to parade a new darkened hue, but i think my smile is sharper than yours this evening. you better watch out for me. i'm a member of the fvk. i borrowed a few words for a eulogy to better remember you by. your reflection was there when you put on your make up to play. presentable now for the massacred this evening where i invited your jesuit friends to waltz in October i started a march. i started a fire. a book burning party on route to the trial. bring king james. Bring and rice. they'll keep you warm while living forever. spit the blood of virgins. spike the blood of christ. They made you stager too close to the fire. tried by cross, convicted by steak. sentenced in flames by november.

the brand new explorer

earthling you're breathing out combustion in you destiny. the power rides see the brand new explorer get left behind. g forces keep thee seated. 4 cylinders move thy phoenix. bring the battle of the planets with a power crashing mutiny. you need an old flame. you need to breath a fuel that's clean. you need to crash. you need to fire water to wreak your sleep. pass out exhaust and dream in dry heat. pass out extinction as you stager from the sea. save this frontier and it's primates from pavement. spines of the wastelands. attention all slaves. your space is in your hands. your minds are vast, but your heads are full of emptiness. fire is not an element.

Consumed by future

tired minds have an appetite for candy carcinogens, and the wash old times down with empty weeks. old ideas switch hands again and again until he lessons bleed. The only bright future i see is in the past tense. where the hell are you going if time curves away and leaves you wasted in a burnt creation? man's visionaries read stationary under alien paper weights. squeeze some life in the clover pipe to shed some light on glory days. spaced out stoned age. i was fucked up when i escaped. The self-destruct gets activated. i can't wait to escape from this future in past tense.

quantum lullaby (proto's dirge)

(instrumental)

chris murray: drums, guitars, bass, vocals, alarm clock, romulan warbird.

tracks 1-7 recorded by chad hye and lucky through march and june 1999 at blue studio in wilmington, nc. track 8 recorded by seth moody in september 1997 at baby ace studio in Wilmington, nc track 9 is paul recorded by paul circa 1977 at 108 hawthorne drive in wilmington, nc. edited and mastered by patrick ogelvy in october 1999 at flux in wilmington, nc.