by Camp Capsize

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"Sentinelese" was written while waiting for original production for my next LP "The Detective Cultivar". Recorded in my cave in the first few months of 2012, so please excuse a few pops and hisses. Mostly just for fun but I put a lot of time and love into it. I hope you enjoy it.

Many thanks to Ghostferatu,, Nathan Wright, and Tristan McNatt. Also anyone who's ever booked me on a show, and all the people who come out to the shows, it is very much appreciated. Much love.


released June 10, 2012

All lyrics written by Camp Capsize except for the second verse in Summa Rudis which was written by Ghostferatu.
I do not own any of the beats or have any rights to them except for Soul Eater which I was given permission to use.



all rights reserved


Camp Capsize Nashville, Tennessee

Capsize is an MC from Nashville, TN. Making lyrically dense, stream of consciousness rap, Capsize infuses hip hop with prog rock influences, much of his atmospheric and lyrical inspiration coming from sci-fi/fantasy books and movies. Capsize announced in 2016 his next full length will be a concept album that will be be released with an accompanying comic book. ... more

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Track Name: Soul Eater
Inlaid scarabs on the scabbard. Lateral slash lathered the battle shocked scavengers, average match for the tavern. Hula-hooped Saturn ghost writes for the madrigals and announces shrunk amounts of allowance while on sabbatical. I'm simply sick. Opium jelly in my airways but the source of my affliction was obtained by "fair trade". Block my vitals from stone spearheads. Survived in a bomb shelter with Ghost, passed the time watching fear net. When the Geiger stops wheezing I'll spin the capstan. Dotted lines to darkened corners where debt is absent. Venn diagram of myself and the labyrinth, included in the far corner is swine and malice. On my side a balance of feeling sweet and sour but getting better since the eclipse is in it's final hour. Been waiting for my scorn orbit to swing blindly into a dense fog, shipwreck on an island - finally.

Non fui, fui, non sum, non curo.

Soul eater. Gaunt from starvation. On the verge of experiments with self immolation. No vampire rituals tonight. Holy water and a sharpened cross in case fables were right. Refused permission for sudden entry through my doorway. Took it to the field and the crepuscular war raged. Muscled the core faith. Fuck the overseer. I was leery when I realized things aren't what they appear. A phobia of fear just means you're looking over your shoulder instead of cultivating a plot for when your strengths get older. Smoldering for effect. Wrecked landing gear abandoned. MK fatal combo to cut him off mid tangent. Ethereal shield. I'm just a microbe on a grain of sand. Self destruction muddled when those meddling kids fucked my plan. Tawdry man of the law and the cloth simultaneously, his words are nothing but broth but he wields them dangerously. Famously catered to the escargot hoarder and spat out every word as an incendiary mortar. They lick their lips, wolves anxious for the hunt, waging war against every inhabited land under the sun. Get that armor on. They're coming for your voice box and expect you to play along. Do you let the walking dead tear your flesh and infect your head, feel the hunger plague you till all you see is red? If you're asking me, it's a resounding 'fuck no!' and I'm willing to go a step further and say let's take it to these cutthroats. Cause we got a toxic modern bubonic forcing the hand of those cats who'd rather use logic. Rock solid mach ten supersonic attack in retaliation for our volley of comets. Sonnets of solvents. Transparent thought polished. I'll try to produce bricks to build your theories and keep it honest. All this fed up bull wants to do is gore the matador and watch the pinata full of deceit and lies flood the floor. Wash away the innards of a mauled, condemned miscreant and realize the motherfucker wasn't even sentient.
Track Name: Raja
Stalin pirahnas nip at the motor, Camp fights 'em off. Muscled the truss over, busted an unlucky bloodsucking cop. White shirt. Watch the hurt chip away with fervor, sweat stains spreading faster than fresh subway burners. Reverse hexes and curses referred by lawyers and nurses. Dollar signs in their eyes and crossbreeds in their purses. Blacklist. Stack of tablets scored with batshit. Tried to refurnish soiled fabric post SS tactics. Discovered a floating casket at the S.O.S. origin, foraged for reward but ended up forging endorphins. Engulfed by torsion the lockbox sees it only as a nuisance, disregard the Cali beachfront hermits two cents. Somehow I'm snakecharmed, she slithers across the floor. Halite whispers. Chagrin. Sandworms eating through her core. I'm sleepless in the escape pod I commandeered last summer. I was gonna call the help line but I think I've lost their number. Vestige of the cummerbund cane get up days makes his way through the stock human flesh cornfield maze. "Even I need to take five to make it out alive." I circumvent the dive cause my other name is Ember Eyes. I can apply a polyjuice disguise but it's not long before my dissolving patience is vacant. The subleties that amaze me aren't even a slight surprise to the suave, smiling lynx waiting. Depraved and slyly latent. Says happiness is derived from the way your time's managed. Call shenanigans. A day spent bullshitting has advantages. Pros and cons on a scale, the former plummets and sex, drugs, and music stand victorious atop the summit.

Out of the pan, onto the flames. At least a half dozen names that'll never play the game. I seal 'em up cause the peel's not the antidote I need. The remedy is in the substance and the function never bleeds. So fit a stopper in the drain of the machine or it'll recognize it's abilities to raze the city and revitalize the cyanide punchbowl society I'm fighting. Plaster tar over our eyes and all the slightest lighting. I'm too fucking tired for this late night nonsense, ponder whether it's real or they've got fake sconces. Not in the mood to explore a dark passage especially when the entranced raja's anything but passive.

Stellar endeavor at knifepoint, joint op on the other side of the globe or so I'm told, I was toking Old Toby with Ghost. Nightvision syllabus. Filibustering bedtimes. Self-regulated so we're up until the alarm chimes. Hardline. That's the problem with morning migrations, graciousness grating, plate to plate straight hatred. I'm just trying to get home and have an eight AM nightcap while thousands of commuters are trying to sidle down the right path. Blueblockers perched precariously on the bridge as I blunder in, loose Puma footsteps thundering. The lumber bends. Relief from the avalanche that blanches me. Vanish into the Ganges. Damage dissipates to vanity. Outlandishly decided to obtain the Circus Maximus spotlight cause in my mind I've ascertained that even a square inch of that beam could illuminate the sewers where the movers stashed the chronicles by Golden Rule tutors. Jimmy computers to exude the perfume of thieves deeds, just prod the ape that's nodding off to read. Machete in hand. If we can clear out the weeds maybe we can get 'em off their knees and plant a spring seed.
Track Name: Moria
I see gelatinous head treasures devolving to feathers, dissolving red letters. Measures squeaking by as clear weather. I veer "left", where the best ear directs it's meager sceptre and reap architecht sketches to let 'em steep in the lecture. I'm neck deep in quicksand and I lost my voice in Moria. Nuclear emporium loss of stock brought euphoria. Employing flora and pouring important remedies for relief to the dead zones constantly harnessed by the enemy. The kennel's crowded, proud, loud and drowning out tightly wound vows, we've allowed rows in our township. Binaural schematics divulged from her round lips, interpreted to indulge the sound and we pound fists. Recite blindly to the arborist, his greenthumb cleared the honeysuckle from fucking us. What you mean, son? Take the blades away from the fleshiest place to raid, display his traits to his grave in the shade. Then stand by...

Acquisition of the second half of the failsafe equation spelled disaster for the master print major relation. Jumangi skin olympian tailoring skits to fit Osage Orange literalists. Ansazi whittles down imperialists. They're sweating fear. The air's heavy and I'm ready for a seaside vacation sans big tres embracement. Done with the humid basement, saw this table in half, weld it back, take my leave and spy from atop the mast. Hiemal reclusiveness, no rooster to spruce the dawn. Mind gone along with the sharpest center prong. Jaws drop. Maybe the top tier was leaking antifreeze from a to b, domesticated bats didn't notice the nectar's green. Vector glee when the festered wound falls apart. Sent CDC a snapshot, they replied calling it modern art. The barter starts. We leave the stone age in a cloud of dust, make the jump to lightspeed never looking back at the rust.
Track Name: Blood Money
If men bled money, we'd stumble upon clear-cut sections more than lab rats receive infections. Road paved in sinew, constantly degrading yet the construction is endless on the end-game of mating. If men bled money the population would in be control, higher birthrate and a steeper death toll. Harvested young for a higher yield of cash flow pouring out their arteries. Burn-unit-grown aloe. Not spilling a drop, every one is worth a peso and a grown man can outfit a bomber with its payload. Hemophiliacs kept under close watch and guard with a funnel and barrel nearby when they go out in the yard.

I wasn't born a mad jackal, cackling when their brittle bones crackle. Snap. Stuff them in my parfleche time capsule. Alacrity in the air when the sunset's stained red. Rocks broke the water then the water turned and broke bread. Reinstitute the belief bleeding a fever is the best method. Fit the pinhole with the cleaver. Felt intrepid. Cave diver spliced remnants. Origami resituated it's origin. In doing so hounds shrouded the torrent. Upgraded the optics with a needle point trapdoor spider. Clawing the liner. Only ammo? Aquanet and a lighter. Prize fighter transformation in a second then he wrecks the skipping defective record to pyrotechnics. What's fucked is it seems we might as well bleed money. They reap dead peasant rewards as if they're bees making honey. A world away, it would seem oil is coursing through our veins. Let's heist the reigns, and go from being just the balance to the brain.
Track Name: Scoobs
Finally out of this island prison in the afternoon, smell of burning shit weed and a cacophony of righteous goons. That harsh alarm was a reminder to the masses that we still had conscious thought sitting unused. Time passes. With a rush of eager meaning and a desire for excitement hundreds of oxen bustled, rustling each other in alignment. Divided almost infinitely until a motherfucking unit was a museum in itself, inspected for its plumage. I came to find the blocks were useful for catching up on dreams if these Plebs were going to ramble on about their splitting seams. A suffocating layered spread of monotony and arrogance paired with a lack of fucks given and feeling at variance with the clown paint hound bait limping through the breezeway. Supervision system limit. It's just another stoic relay. Avid traveler stationed in a pale expanse of bayous. Sci-fi novelist confined to vomiting out haiku. So unimpressed with the headquarters of the thieves guild, Peanuts teacher reading so dreary I'm shocked I wasn't killed to the hum of groans and snores pillaging the lesson. Dictators less concerned with broken inputs than how we're dressing. Chipmunk with a test tube. Producer with no hope. Top model with an attitude. Has-been elected Pope. Gym with Jack and Coke. Skipping magic metaphors to visit the no mans land or hit the pavement to find better shores. But the years of waste deep raw sewage were worth it for a patch of dry land that was practically perfect. Saw it a ways off and knew the beacon was my drive to strive for the light side and put some pride in my stride. Went for reaching the peak yet I know the mountain will take weeks to scale and I ain't even contemplated escape. Just one ice pick in front of the other, stayed undercover as my biggest fear was that I didn't want to ever smother the first actual bloom I've seen with the seeds of what could be. Scenes of drama play out on the screen. Yet we're miles away. Rescue leaving me with a map of a newly discovered landmass that I trace and send back. Correspondence for many months between two virgins to the pen and the inked sheets pile up beside the furnace after the end. But at night my brain still writes to an abyss so I know there's at least a few thoughts my vocal chords missed.

If this song was filled with all the words that I could never say, I'd ask you to listen but the well fills up every day with all our pictures and notes. Reminiscent. I want to board it up but every time I start the nails and hammer go missing. I'm left staring at my blank reflection wondering why I'm dropping pennies and wishing for the telephone lines to burst with our gushing of petty details. Fuck blame, fuck the game, let's steady the train before it derails. Bleach the slate, take this chalk as an olive branch. I'm sorry. You're a diamond in the rough, trust me, I took the quarry safari. So as stormy nights turn starry, I propose a brand new page but bound in the same book and without the rusted neon cage. I'm distracted without you and I feel my head's on straight. I shut the ghosts in attic then packed up and moved away. Astronaut without a planet nearby to ease his shaking knees seeking a solid eight hour sleep and a replenished ring of keys. I carved stairs for your ease and the hillside's just fine for me. I've tried to sound cohesive but the current needs rest vitally.
Track Name: Summa Rudis (feat. Ghostferatu)
Restriction expiration. Straightjacket loosened to my liking. It's time for Vikings to start striking the lions den without any hesitation. Archaic proclamations cycle's at cremation. Possession by Aguirre, fear in the steady calm while the plague rats genuflect and dribble psalms. Mauled not coddled. Author bottled the straw poll. Post apocalyptic narcissists dowsing for raw gold. I could thaw a mammoth in a season but if we're being honest I don't even see the reason. Instead of slathering mannequins in the urns contents I'd rather see a Jenga tournament on every continent. If we capsize at least we'll look back with the knowledge our life's work wasn't just a homage. Event boundary registered. No pink flamingos out front. Just empty forties and innards of blunts. Tag months of tally marks when the parks won't foster an evergrowing monster roster. Imposters shrug it off, claiming the title of Sith lord meanwhile metaphysics stir next door at the in-store. Ripcord nervousness services his earnestness, sabotaged by Pavlov. His generosity's superfluous. Terse words. Versed in the works of the worst. Flow wins the race so Prototype takes first.

Passed down in stone, scribed by the Seers, resurrected so we'd recognize this is our year. Rear back when currency crawls from under its rock. Take stock. You need two keys and two locks.

Bomb pedagog, ignite pythons, reflex to shudder when others play crime boss. 2012 in possession, destined next in line, year of the brine, Shamanic Prototype. Rivals writhe minus guidance, we thrive from a lack of fondle from Midas. Live like it's the Black Plague, tempest saturated with fast blame, Sha Pro gas flames, tad late to gun fight, unfamiliar with guidelines back in the day when none disturbed the sidewinding. Pick of the brood, secret two bit, medicine man blueprint, truest adage, the fact is hard to swallow. This volatile molotov I borrowed, Capsize Ghostferat got tomorrow on lock. Constant bosses attempt stomping but they're left out to dry, soggy, bottom of bog deep as ever, steeped together, belief severed by the winds of underground weather, lye wrapped in red letters, smell of Northrax hails the onslaught, gore is fast approaching, spread to all coasts boasting super soakers, cobras come closer but can't touch when I engage sublight, prototype domain 615.

Proud amulet. Laminate smells advantages. Locked up, tossing paper airplanes to famished kids. Roadkill spilled and filling up the storm drains, growing in the through ways of the mule cornmaze. Born late. Scorn after Fangorn made artillery rain down on the bourgeois distillery. Tardigrade grit. Hardly gray skinned. So when frills spit shit I tab out and we split. Summa rudis uprooted the two pit bulls, they're thick skulled. Cue to call the ruler of cinched hulls. Benched gulls try to pinch the waste in our wake. They should brace for whiplash or every neck might break. Lead foot. Show them the tree of life is blossoming. Obviously grown lawlessly. I crawled to see the underworld through a crack in the chasm. Forced to by a nightmare phantasm. Emerged a hawk without a hood, bore and took core samples from sore heads made of wood. Carpenter crafted the remains to be my rafters so I could take shelter, let the storm weather the actors. Master practitioner. Relaying to the intern how to tunnel in and drain all the cisterns. Exorcise all fires demonic. Listen up if the prototype's shamanic.
Track Name: Top Branch Raptors
Puzzle of planks drifts toward the foggy bank. Weave around crusaders who sank. I break surrounding districts into stubs of tickets. Welcome, kid, the carnival will get your wrists slit. Dog digesting pup meat. The runt piqued my interest in cleaning up the drunk fucks from front street. Salivating at a new tremor dinner cause the osmosis is swollen but the figure's getting dimmer. Plastic Kenner anticipatory order implored the off shore hoarder to draw and quarter the one true villain in our story. If in the process we lose spokes then you will be missed sorely. Stoke for smoke. I just need to feel an itch to crack disinterest and goose grease the hitch. Fool, leave her lips, pick the pen over the hen. No offense it's just that I'm on a mission of defense. Visions of the prints. Now to measure twice and cut once. Piece together melting glaciers over a span of young months then motor on to the next groaning destruction. Haul it to it's induction at the warden's injunction. I trade days, trying to find a minute to switch my mind off. Interrupt the Great Wall flow with an audible dry cough. Circumnavigated badly rated nametag chameleons busy patching leaks in the dam that's overflowing. Praying to thin air to supply more sealant but their words are lost on a recipe they assumed was all knowing. Raw stoning of those owning their ragged flag as if half of them didn't already have knifes in their backs. I refuse to defuse the situation cause it's necessary. Full body cast dropped overboard. It's secondary to the storming of the grains so they shape the dunes to embrace the graces in the gray. Change places. Embed lead lined casings, no TSA detection once they're in every closet and basement. I've hid my wallet and Aes discs from pawn store regulars. Became a skeptic watching scepters spill the brains of settlers. Pressure surges we turn face to encourage. Denounce top branch raptors teary eyed from losing servants. Looting purses must be strenuous, you're sweating bullets across your brow but post a skull's grin for the crowd. A win for the proud. Give me the keys and save the girl. Include 'please' if you consider oysters over pearls. Moisture over earls. There's no power if you're brain dead. Drain the shallow vein till the needlepoint's stained red. Assumed the heart would keep pumping but this dim stump of a creature can't move now it's just plant food. Advanced rant proves the spice must flow, the "ice" can go but keep my vices prices low. Mice try the crow. I swoop down to the burrow, prey makes its way to safety from a raided furrow. Take what I need, no more, cut the morose act. You look as if this channel was a dose coated throwback. Velvet rope quack trap. Lured the stag like fat rats. Pulled the plug on anacondas voting on HAZMATs. No one was worthy to clean up the scene so I capsized the bleachers and pounded the streets. I've seen golden foreclosures fall to bulldozers and skyscrapers grow older till they're mowed over. Done camping with loners in gluttonous revelry so I snuck away in the night and was accused of devilry. Heretical petals brush bees. Day of the dead. Spade to the head but we lost our bodies when you decided to wed your dreams with your reality. I hate to be the buzzkill but your thug thrills are shrug skills camouflaged as drug mills.
Track Name: Rope Ladder
72 FPS. The stunted shutter rate flutters as the shadows creep into my windows and I shudder. Backgammon vision, ripping apart venison ligaments, fencing rugged buzzards stealing serotonin but it's imminent. Pace again. Stimulate the senses with a fuzzy bit of medicine and sit back pensive. See a flush of ruddy pigment. Scouting the treeline I decline to recline. Stay vigilant. Honed in on a neverending inner monologue. Stretching thin, trying to keep an arm raised but it's waterlogged. Yawn the fog off. Get on up with a rush to a creak and then the shriek of eerily sleek deafening stillness. Fuck sleep. Never wanted to count sheep. Thought peace was a natural thing but my adrenalines timing has a Dracula ring. The vernacular collapsed into a vacuum shortly after my molars bit down and masticated Gak shrooms. That's when the walls shook. That's when the cab's meter ran and that old man said I was a fool of a Took. Wanted to draw my eyelids but it's a fascinating view speckled with lacquered kelp and further on an infinite blue. Should elastic tentacles reach across to the edge of the world? They're overly curious so they start to unfurl. Never one to discourage prying into a mystery so headfirst I discovered the rabbit hole. The rest is history...

I had a rope ladder...I was a rope ladder...

Band of gypsies back, fifth year in a row but the alchemist changed the recipe thus changing the show. The faces feel familiar. I'm entranced by Whirling Dervishes in my attic and disconcerted by the static dance. Scoville dosage coaxed the ghosts out of the woodwork. Multidimensional for an hour but that's a good perk. Screws loosened. The earthquake facilitated rebuilding. It's efforts ended in a kind of gilding. Abraded mold gathered from the smog of an upwind chimney, I'd race to the airflow if this hall wasn't lit so dimly. Stymied by the incline, the echo resounds with purpose so fuck it, looks like we've gotta make it the surface. Get 'em up and attack 'em. Pack the brackets full of Mad Hatter laughs and passion. Fashion a wickiup out of pick-me-ups not stagefright. Master the sum before the sun brings daylight. The brimming tempest has yet to leap from the petri dish. Scanning for a symbol they asses the tealeaf glyph. Implore it for an answer. No response from the brick wall. Synapses fire, suddenly stumbling toward the pitfall.

Back to the start from the finish, repeat the mental war, there's no rest for the wicked...go back...