The Detective Cultivar

by Camp Capsize

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released July 3, 2013

All lyrics written by whoever says them
Recorded at Mount Doom
Recorded, mixed, & mastered by Mitch Hosier

Tracks 1, 2, 8, 10, 12, & 14 by Camp Capsize
Tracks 3 & 9 by Thanatomaton
Track 4 by Red Beard
Track 5 by Palpebral
Track 6 by
Track 7 by Capsize & Palpebral
Track 11 by Ghostferatu
Track 13 by Capsize & Ghostferatu

Thanks to Mitch Hosier, Tristan McNatt, Addison McNatt, Weston Sparks, Nathan Wright,, kidDEAD, Simian, Acme Brown, Mike Gubbins, Sara Zavaleta, Bobby Exodus, Kapsole, Al-D, Weathersby, Zukavicz, Jared & Stefanie Atwood, Virgil Davis, Mike Shook, Lindsay Wall, Jesse Baker, The Spoiler Alert Collective, Springwater, The End, Cafe Coco, my family, and anyone who has come to shows, booked me on one, downloaded music of mine, or helped in any way, shape, or form. Much love to you all!



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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: Damascus Steel
No night terrors. Watchtower swallowed up from a distance. Hazy hillside magnified dissonant resistance. Petrified Prometheus for a stationary epic, with the end of an era came the stench of something septic. These ruins are subject to erosion under franchise directors, ingrained to tame the lane they traipse on their avaricious vector. Scabs of cyclical defectors. Imprinted with a tetrapharmakos brand. Armed with a ten foot pole and an electric trident in hand. Vocalization of the warning. Yellowjacket sixths split half and half. Wary of publicizing the catalyst behind the mutilated calf. Cast brash packs of fermented formaldehyde surgical masks with a jokers grin intact and an absinth charged flask. Flash of past framed pyramids, vibrant through the microscope, channeled a myriad of Jabberwocky nonsense to spark the isotope. Iceberg at our twelve and the Slender Man's looking through my shutters. A perfect storm veteran bettered through the severance of my rudder.

My personal poltergeist rouses the cold blooded trilobite. Spectral sonogram. Banshee wailing. Dogfight teasing dreams through the skylight. To be continued. Fin but I was never ready to yield to a field of unlearned basics that the stormtroopers wield. Deal to the left, eyes to the right. This Hannibalistic attention brought tension to the table at every proposition or mention of the leveling of this arena. Your guilt trip subpoena will be remembered as a bombing akin to Primo's with Xena. Keep your whispers to the fucking wall while you're clamoring in the guano, spreading thorn bushes and thistles. Permissible missile of airborne mono. Opposable dais. Dilated ethics with a bias to hot spring denizens itching to stretch the ligament to become pious. Sly diver conquering depths in times that take the blue ribbon in the Kessel run. No sun eroding away, wandering tessellated restless slums. Should've left it at the fact I had three meetings in the vespiary instead of coaxing an all out hurricane from the estuary. Fuck it. Now a ruckus is truckled under this witch doc, Silver bridge buckled, I'm struggling to pick this ziploc. I'm down with that double tap action, after passionate infractions the attractions puppet master regains traction. And addressing black ice factions, your majesty cackles at redactions and fractures your motherboard to fractions. Detailing emissions as unrealistically optimistic would be generous. So stop haggling with subway rats and degenerates. If you wanna spread a message, tell 'em Camp's back from the necropolis. Chopping up deposit slips, docking where the fossil lives. Reversing mountains into molehills on these crusades to the gallows tree. Fountain of histamine sentences. It's too late to erase your savagery. I'll remain a lighthouse with an urchin edge. Earthen is my burden, I'll perch it on this uncertain sledge. Now I'm just sweating the revolver.
Track Name: Greek Fire
I'll take this tool.  Use it in a subterranean sense.  Articulated wire henchmen are ready at the fence.  Break this spool.  Trying to follow it back to the entrance.  Canary croaked so I lope back from my premeditated sentence.  The syntax, for what's worth, wasn't a blank faced statement, like a dual outcome puzzle it ain't tied down to this engagement.  So let it be and free the petting zoo by noon.  Find your peace cause we'll be starting the bloodletting soon.  Chalk it up to malfunction when the unction's an empty stocking, Balking at the fact your tact was lost with your rehearsed mocking.  So choke on it, I've got bidders waiting on your death mask and it'd be fitting if you could go ahead and pass so it could get cast.

Perforations in your station leak the life force.  Germination in our nation leads to crime lords.  If this is just a test and I'm a lone mantis then why's it looking like there are magnets in our encampment?  Iterations of the cave ins draw the line more.  Reverberation of occasions pick the mind sore.  If this is really it and I'm a solo roman then I need a ship to stowaway on this very moment.

I'll take this spoon, bend it with the agility of thought process.  Caught a fleeting bit of seaweed and rang the alarms at loch ness.  Break this moon.  So I can fund and direct my own tides, her primal rival pried apart her mark she unassumingly implied.  Cried out for higher hosts to post a link to sink the city but the skies were silent and light while the streets were sick and gritty.  Pity probability took the pile of chips and laughed at ya for eating every worm with a massive hook attached to 'em.  But it's all over now.  No reason to gloat that coat was wired and priors were extinguished even though doused with greek fire.  I'll die the dire day that liars revive the highest sires, struggle free from the undead brier I used for their pyre.  And if I can't breathe you'll asphyxiate and drift away with me, a tricky case of final offers the coffer embossed too quickly.  It's a fickle fate for sure when the poison is your antidote, the delivery room's a mass grave yet the graphic hits the phantom notes.  I'll damage thrones in the camo of darkness for the margins who are now the majority deploring the chores handed down by Tarkin.  So, sorry Marvin, your time's expired.  You're out of quarters.  No continuation of the game till you're across the silver cord border.  I'm not saying the wrench equipped to my left hand can't demand the standard banner fly over the weary and dreary common man, I'm just convinced the prince won't relinquish his quote/unquote rights to the elvers slithering in during the garden harvest nights.
Track Name: Shastar Vidiya
Dreams of derelict biomes, my bones are home but I woke as a detainee.  Apprenticeship in pacing footprints, tried ensuring the continuation of the trainees showing that their handler was not crystal clear in his manifest.  Push that mint condish button to the point he falls into a panicked stress.  Superficial.  Braves the flames to grab the oysters bread and butter.  He sputters.  After enslaving every age and race, too late, lady liberty is looking like a cutter.  So replace her blood with coolant, we can resurrect her morals once his gaudy temple is built but tonight he's camped in the flood plain - I'm gonna see if this saw can make a mess of them stilts.

So tonight the hungry pack seethes to feed, another night out in the cold.  We were told we lived to eat but we've watched the deceasing of the weak and the old.  We ain't beasts of burden, we're thirsting for your life, of that I'm certain. I might die without an interregnum after centuries of hurting.

So it's all frozen ice now, assembled by anonymous persons during the night.  So you can all throw your dice down, ephemeral enjoyment of the siesta during the plight.  I coaxed combatants into cul de sacs filled with my skeletons and broke the battlements with valiant ends made by puzzle piece hellions.  We attain the heart with no regrets in regards to the talisman but we use the hide and every bone to keep it all balancing.  Retain your claims, that fictions opaque at best.  Play it close to your chest.  I know the venom's fresh, I think it's time we lay this behemoth to rest.  Non-denominational yet the yearning for the life force seems insatiable.  Copy static captain the wake is gone.  Infiltration untraceable.  Plan B, crack the hull until it's anything but recognizable. We didn't get here from any idea that I'd ever call advisable.  But if we breach the deep sheets, don't stir that sleeping bear and if he shakes, whisper in his ear "We've come here dreaming and jagged to attenuate..."  Chewie, lock in the auxiliary power.  The saplings will cower and as high noon hits the fat flies have had their fill and the meat's sour.  Teasing his scurvy plagued teeth with a mud ridden hangnail, stale breath with the fetor of decay, his farmers tan fades pale.  The rope is now fraying.  Burning.  You're just blowing on the coals.  Made a habit of using his back as a stepstool to reach your seven digit goals.  At least.  Shit, who knows, you got away with murder, so what's next?  Venus flytrap confection.  Dressed in blue suede shoes so now I'm vexed.  Fuck stress, gonna unleash this hellbent fervor upon this pervert who decided his personal preference should be the coding in the server.  If my body meets the soil it only means my limits have split.  No wood chips or splints.  I'll be cutting away where your golden moored vessel sits.
Track Name: One Eye Mind
Frosted trade winds wrapped around a signal woke me from a haze ridden sweat lodge vigil.  Icicles grew on the door frame at a sure pace.  Oral lore saves me once, with posthaste, the score's raised.  Time to plot and plod a trail, renegade's simple mention of a detail puts the grudge on resale.  Ate the shackles and I'm southbound.  Houndstooth paint strips whiz by in front of the Guilty Spark fisheye.  Send rabid clamoring talons crashing, fashion a match to mash grab bag tactics and pragmatists.  Pulled maggots from the mattress.  Ornamented the headboard.  Red aqua lattice pattern, I question what lions lie dead for.  Portico for the strollers.  High rollers ain't ashamed to run - to stay ahead of their debt and, transversely, the gun.  I'll pull up some floor, maybe order a termites portion, and with morbid fascination watch the earth's abortion.  

Lay me down in reeds so they can feed while I bleed and the creatures in the streets can creep to my heartbeat.  And with a stumble or a leap, the name of the game changes, when hunter turns to hunted the instinct rearranges.  One eye on your back, one eye for the starved mutts that once had your trust back when they were blood and guts.  It's that fucking black widow wedding anxiety with a pinch of that one eye mind notoriety.

Slobber maw incessantly rambling to no end, no attention to the fact the door's floored by gremlins.  Shrieking and whispering. The bleak men bristling.  Archer stopped the flawed rain or snow carrier pigeon.  Harrier pistons in my engines.  The binge has only started.  My arbor is the farthest.  Parlor market for the targets.  Marker for the starkest.  Chop wood and haul essence or pay strict attention to my lessons.  My imprinted impression of the season's session is tabled but the fiber optics cable in my skull steals my fables.  Could barely associate with carnivores, hid in my cave from those inferior, slice my hand, leave the bloody print on the interior.  If this is transmission double-oh zero one, you can engrave this for the ravens.  I'll take it.  More rungs.  I've sprinted, breathless to the point of heaving bursting lungs so there you have it.  Today's best.  Fuck it all, I'm done.
Track Name: Antikythera Mechanism
Radio symmetry.  Faint pulse, a mimicry.  Paint hull with digits as remembering.  Limber infantry pick-axed the mystery.  Against strict orders disintegrated the enemy.  Adjunct galactic embracement, source of child like wonder and amazement.  The sarcasm ought to have trotted away the day the case went analog with the basics.  The ancients cast down their payments for those disavowing litigation.  Identical imitation of limpid pigment.  If concept grows we'll feel the permanent indent.  Ascend from prima donna piranha infested cannon fodder waters.  Taller squallers may take longer to be thawed proper.  No saucers, a chance to stimulate the paupers.  Belay the stray operas.  To the top-side loggers, there's salt of the earth if you'll just get your trawlers.  Sprawled concertina, I've been dulling my edges.  Procrastinating absorption but quorking to pledges with a "tight muzzle" message.  You ain't gotta wait till it's late on your deathbed.  Constant stream of butane, don't abuse the muse and we can keep this flow of the two lanes.
One coming, one going...Just let this flow keep flowing...If the rowboat rasps on the beach to each his own, all you can reach, all you can keep, all you can eat...
Track Name: The Working Dead (feat. Ghostferatu)
Red rum.  Scouring for another minute.  To let the dreams drip another image.  But the warning bell defeats me, break open my newest coffin, at this point it's easy.  Claw the soil then hit traffic, drag on like asthmatics.  We lacquer slag mouth tactics and track ash mauler black magic.  Brackish migration.  Upstream feeder sensation of elation.  A praised alter counts your wages.  "Saved martyr" drowns you in sanctions.  Famous rangers storm the gates, no plus when you bolt awake late.  Futilely fumble, inept, with the master key latch, hide where the tomes are kept.  Second stamp on the time card.  Effortless as a line guard.  Get home to a new tomb, too tired to try and move.  Any enjoyment ends with the news of a lose/lose.  Gotta waste away another day in a few hours so I'll sleep and say.../I got no preference of direction just somewhere else, fuck the blessing of dead session musicians walking Dickerson sicker than the average sick citizen.  Origin innocent, dollar pressure makes ‘em attend vigilant.  Human sentiments gone.  And nothing left to take pity on.  Somber wandering zombified the constant watching modern eyes in sockets cauterized.  Gaunt hands work the boss man’s labor, save the payment with disused saber.  Sun sets on atlas and his tragic passion for acquisition the fastest.  Spider leg zone, till I’m old, work every second to the bone.
Track Name: Seaweed in the Dungeon (A Sea Legs Message)
Reports of seaweed in the dungeons are a glimmer of hope in the sanction induced, no-questions-asked fast.  Grab your scuba mask.  We're taking water in the cabin but captain's ordered an inspection of the deck.  Floorboards warped, trimming home to lichen.  Suction mouth, bulging eyes, the leader demands a purpose for the march on his reservation.  I stand still.  A shadow in the thickly populated birch woods.  Stars scantily clad, hurling the bright for light years.  Generations.  Emanating for this very second.  This wary peasant.  Stammering, though the hand in front of my face is invisible.  Miserable for the times this hasn't happened.  Paddling for the furthest shore.  If I meet cannibals may I be a great feast.  If I can't pick up my feet, I'll let the cycle repeat.  Surgery not complete.  Full steam ahead with the anesthetics.  Call for the wheezing medic.  Pressure building.  Settling dust post mushroom cloud background.  Sticking to sweet sweat, hammered thin alloys.  Felled the keep yet?  Nah, his pride of house cats are waiting on the Malfoy's.  Sea glass shard iris's glint like platinum hooks on fishing lines of silver.  And there's barracudas in the aquarium.  Easily more stubborn than the high born, they thrash, jaws practically wired shut around the limp runt.  Caught in his kismet.  All I can do is learn.  All I can do is observe...
Track Name: Monster with 21 Faces (かい人21面相)
Infatuated with cannibalism.  Underlying guilty pleasure magnum opus.  Soak us in our scent.  We're centipedes.  Fettered.  Waiting for broken focus.  A thousand words of hocus-pocus, bowed heads slack against the transceiver.  Ghost town breaks the fever.  In the blue corner, the antibodies' sleek cleaver.  Call me splintered infant grimace.  Call me Nuremberg's juries quarter.  In the end, it's just a placard on the desk of the ice age porter.  Born into the final phase of the cycle.  Glaring eyes.  Curled upper lip.  Short circuited eighteen winters in, rented a cement penthouse in the crypt.  Who integrates into the battlefield?  Red velvet saran wrap immobilizing Reptilian packs, morphing the traps to appear as the tracks.  I'm that black cat that sets those eery events in motion.  Without missing a beat, transcended  netherworld notion becomes the crux of the potion.  Odious intentions solidified to a ball and chain, no feigning meditative states, brain matter leashed so it's function remains contained.  Compost lodged in his teeth after expelling radical waste.  The taste gives credence, his characters purity was decoded with haste.  Shut the clutter down.  Strut the gutter crown.

Where were you?  Alkaline cloak concealing tics.  An asinine joke surrogating bricks.  Support beams abort schemes and the core fiend learns from the tricks.  Twin shadow origins.  That incisive robotic voice won't tell me how we're related.  Pin and needle waterfall.  Cremated grit and rift mated.  Look inside yourself.  Am I a piece of that fox-eyed patient sleeper?  Three lettered bureau antennae reaching, combing for the pheromones of the reaper.  Comatose with passion, no shock wave arrived on anniversaries.  Agents scrub for a live-in poltergeist to gloss the dusty adversity.  Personally, that cursive John Hancock glides with first degrees to libraries and nurseries through blind binary surgeries.  Furiously, the drive sparks exoskeletons to animate.  Dated granulated raiders paying kudzu to contaminate.  A fraction of this eclectic menagerie running on batteries with a yen for feral savagery in instances of flattery.  There will be blood.  But have an affable basis pinned on the victim or risk the immunity being in line when the poison hits the system.
Track Name: Chachapoya
This is aardvark park.  Evolution at it's best.  Pursed lips in anticipation of the rising of the pest.  Cleaning the stream of what slipped past you, clinging to dreams of severed half truths, this is a gesture to the pharaohs for felled statues and gashed runes.  Now graffiti in bathrooms is the only free speech within our boundaries cause to transmit would inflict the written establishment of bounties.  County tubers glued to screens hoping to catch a glance of the local Krueger while Wendy Torrance is trying to get a hold of the annual hedge maze's super.  Conduced confusion trading affirmations via tectonic plates, skating weight on your tracks, you are the uruk-hai at the gates.  Claiming possession's nine tenths, so in hope I'll stab for the sliver after engaging every chalice full of liquor with my liver.  Ever since the Giver told me I could stop popping space rocks with my breakfast, making the trek to the edifice took place at the head of the checklist.  The drove is fleeing, feeling quicksand but it's all unturned stones, they groan and with a flick of the wrist the crumbling rust is home.  An over the shoulder good riddance to the scavengers, the carrion will carry you and your passengers aghast to pastures of lavender.  

Hey, rubes!  I'm cognitive of your cinematic tendencies.  A rosy cherub on the holidays yet an imp in the appendices.  Geriatric.  So stop lining my coffin with confections, I don't need an ant infestation after the event in question.  Thermometers non stop throbbing.  Mercury to boiling point.  Gave in to magnolia tree fondness, felt at home in the web like joints.  A fictional critic of my environment just didn't fit the internal picture yet a pale, bearded dead man was a seemingly normal fixture in any season and setting.  Unsettling how he ruled our lives. Rushing to do his deeds as if he was the first queen to the hive.  Yet we clutched knives, waiting for a savory second of silence.  Occasionally pinching a piece in a quiet riot.  Triumphant defiance.  Fork to funny bone.  A rigid tone in the last proclamation.  Synchronous finale.  We rally in collective conquered elation.  A descent from the pedestal.  Gargoyle molting with time.  No flashy limestone cement defining landing strips.  No line.  I need a nomads territory with an amnesiac's conscience.  I'd like a Saluki's charisma yet a ninjas shadows  prominence.  Stratego dominance.  Land mine with no discretion for whoevers pressure, I was just digging in the dunes when I got a face full of shrapnel treasure.  Yet I'm a medical miracle but not the first and not the last.  Heretical blast shield lowered.  Dodging and blocking the castes.  Guess I'm sorry, if I chose this contract, I overlooked the fine print.  Now those who wept at my conception chastise me for not paying rent.  I'm over this shit.  A new branch doesn't make the elders' genes an obligation.  Took a risk for nothing, eventually grew weary of your emanation.  An eyesore.  They wanted a grandchild who could sleep in the right morgue.  But it was return of the harlequin birth canal chomping cyborg.  The soil is so dark, I crawled for miles before my demise.  Gave more than I pried until the lava spilled out and over the diked sides.  Nothing more than a snakeskin is left for those who'd like to exhume my remains, the grains have grown high by now and I only sink more when it rains.  Give it up for the last providence spitting at the heels of the hyena.  Excavating Giza, plesiosaurs carrying the spirit of Athena.  The media will bundle our story in the footnotes of their publication.  We've spent too long hovering on the edge of isolated trepidation.  Herculean antagonist immaculate from button to bank vault.  The outcasts sought a valley for refuge.  Now the sanctitude's on a fault.  The salt has to halt.  We're preserving what we set out on these seas to discover.  Another life without skyscraper settlements, without strip malls to govern.  The soil is so dark, I crawled for miles before my demise.  Gave more than I pried until the lava spilled out and over the diked sides.  Nothing more than a snakeskin is left for those who'd like to exhume my remains, but eternal sleep has treated me well, I don't mind if you refrain.
Track Name: Titanomachia
Evidence of the massacre, belt full of shrunken heads sways in the mid-fall rain.  Used to the wind howling through the deciduous ridge he calls home, hunter-gatherer's quiver's empty.  Cache hollow.  Peeling bark slack.  Watch constellations collapse on the tarmac.  Snarky remarks aimed for the bar back.  Her mind was climbing so she followed phosphorescence.  Arbiter tarnished the ovate mirror with merely his presence.  Paused, spitting and leering at the honeycomb options, with each tick of his watch comes a problem adoption.  Air on the side of caution, barrel the feral energy.  When vimana are common host tolerance for your enemies.  Maybe a 360 revolving view of your perspective will rearrange your hatred of the wreckage.  I hate it too but I refuse to twist the knife and beat the bruise until the blue and black is black and blue.  I strike out.  Coup contrecoup leaves you a mess.  A puddle of grey matter trying to flash grins and dress his best.  I admire your persistence but it's in vain, I dialed the calvary.  Triple sixes.  Mix of loathing and disdain.  Demoting pride kings from mane needs to be the thesis of our grievance.  Lead the spring peepers to reason, even through the dry seasons.  And I can tell you, when they're finally starving they'll fight to feed so shred the wanted posters ASAP and end the monetary greed.  Shipping lanes freeze when the collective foot is put down, millions of fish evolved to Kraken looking to be land bound.  Just want to be grounded post bloodlust.  Plus I ordered self aware wunderkinds be marooned to let the fucking gushing cuts rust... a seafaring battle worn captain I've got my eye on the horizon and not the tide behind.  Jolly Roger patch - after a scrap on one side I'm blind.  Mortal morsels on the menu from porthole to portal through time.  I'm a Spartan breeder, weeding the weak creatures from reavers, preening elite Seers to aid in seeking evil preachers.  Hide your false prophet teachers, I've got an appetite for idiocy.  Tabula rasa established like Euclidean parentheses.  As if this ink were addressed to Lemon Drop, I need to stop, top off my lungs, and ditch the chop shop.  Get a drink of odd grog and head for Melee Island, getting accustomed to mutinies and witnessing everyday violence.  I need a first mate willing to resist backstabbing when sunny days turn rainy and we're confined to the cabin.  While a maelstrom's outside, I scratch my quill to pass the hours.  No amendable signals were given so lessen the skirmish for the power.  You had a forked tongue and a flawed short term plan for moving contraband and overthrowing feudal Japan.  I counter, "That presentation was conceived on a light box.  This animatronic charlatan was sent by Mynocks."  So why not dice leeches, invite polite beseeching reaches to each secret creaking sleeping demon.  Leaving the boas in the evening after inverting all the crosses, cloaked in colloquialisms, local folks provoke the colossus.  No process, just torches and pitchfork enforcement.  The door man can get trampled like a serf by lore endorsement.  And not a lash batted, in fact you muted the root movement.  The q-tip balcony boo-ers claim the two of you never colluded.  How cold is it outside?  It looks like you're smoking as much as you're breathing.  The paranormal storm left bereavement.  A malleable palindrome, we've droned on in silence.  The titan might won't last in this shaky alliance.  Denying science, the tyrants fuck our rubik's cube progress, I'll shake down the bevy once sidling in through Hogs Head.  Allocate your leftovers to keep the dogs fed.  You dragged the riverbed looking for tattered flags and cobwebs.  In a blurred surge of nervous pack animals I found you.  Search for an extensive den devalued if I could escape the winter and touch the ocean I taste.  I'd break rank when technicolor arachnids lay waste.

Give me a license to kill and immunity from the dollar's law.  Amnesty don't exist, we're all recorded on the prompters log.  In the epilogue if you resent your summation, trial by fire is an option, they'll drop you in to an ovation.  Innovation in the grand scheme couldn't be more important but they're pouring in scores of mortar.  The tortured fort is dormant.  Warm cores absorbent.  Palantir blind to the spark.  Shark in the dark.  Hoping the arrowhead misses the mark.  

Steady ivy drawl crawling up, overtaking the aphids.  Prime solar property taunting me with it's ember cadence.  Deracinate opposition, my mission is not a vision.  The figment melted and twisted after the axe incision.  I laugh when the dagger's crimson and then amass a massive indention.  Imply the sire's a henchman and mire potential inventions.  So dash what wish you counted on it's under the rig and in pieces.  A sneaking suspicion's breaching rabid fangs into the fleeces.  I said fuck the police, and that ain't a tribute, it's common for the kids in the pen to detest the oppressor of the shaman.  Honor the thought of the bombing of that multi-spired hellhole.  If not for the specific blow for slowly separating velcro.  Textbook chromosome homage to the telephone.  Bellows launder and squander serrated settled loans.  Wiretapped on behalf of an able-bodied Ebenezer, table top jotting your seizures for scrutinizing at his leisure.

Back down now.  I've got the upper hand and the high ground.  I'll capsize all and the earth till the sky drowns.  Drag a cracked blade.  End inattention.  Gregariously poised venom blends in with "best of" mentions.  Change your locks.  This is hardly finished.  You spritzed basic water as if scalding lava would diminish.  Sealed checkmate.  You went and shot yourself in the foot so many times that peg leg reduced to soot.  Collected all the Baltic residents and their residue for one too many drinks and a clever draining of revenue.  I pluck feathers when shades agree with a certain tendency.  This house of horrors is only in it's infancy.  When the chill is an average human sensation I'll take my leave cause a self professed patriot gives me dry heaves.  No show, I'll slip the ring on and I'm ghost, transparent and hushed but I'm still forever heard from coast to coast.

Babble another shovel full, I'll pat it down and deliver a eulogy till you're coverable.

Next to the open flame and a kaleidoscope of broken chauvinistic rotors doting on old crows with oily motors lies a black powder figurine pleading for a lead role in an archaic arcade, writhing with people.  Blazing down the steeple with a mouthful of gasoline and a bic to protect the townspeople from the sick.  I slate the last day of summer on a frigid, wet date but you can always slide over your part in pieces of eight.  To get raped with a grimy side of bullshit is almost a social norm, so no more conforming to the pulpit.  Buckets under the resin drizzle.  She's heat.  I amble to the furnace and quickly reverse with cold feet.  Enough distraction from clear stochastic dominance.  Scaled the wall with the wolves to eviscerate Romulus.  Vaulted out of bed mid-heart attack and passed out.  Came to scraping together paper under black clouds.  Let me display how Spanish lions fight and die like Orion eternalized in the moonlight.  Cave gaping and I stumble in, open wounds painting a picture that renders my quaking breaths thin.  Go prone.  Last image is a droplet, stirring the sleek pool with a high school bomb threat.  Wake in a strange place.  "This is the end-"  I began, "There's no such thing, but welcome to Tian."
Track Name: Recipe for Disaster
The atlas.  The shovel.  The satellite.  The level.

Concave spiral staircase imagining an emasculated were-race.  Suffering in a shared space.  Hair trigger disfigured the sandstone remembrance and we jumped the fence, left the twins no longer bearing resemblance.  Minted the events on special offer low denominations, forged a poker faced anecdote for the occasion.  This all already happened but I'm just now playing catch-up.  I ran ahead of the pack and cause of that was swiftly enveloped in a quicksand thick pea soup.  Midair and mingling.  Even the singles sting the scar that's only now started tingling.  Tear these shingles loose, those tetanus tipped nails are ancient anyway and I never made plans to have a soul mate or a penny saved, a skinny slave to constant labor pains of Y2K.  But now it's twelve years late, I'm bored from the slate, and I couldn't give a fuck about the growth of your state.

Hostile hawks are watching, constantly from the brush, I felt the rush when my sixth sense acted as a crutch.

Wove a red flag in a span of mere seconds, hunkered down in a corner so they'd have to face me with their weapons.  I reckon you made it on time for that spine implant appointment cause you failed to meet your quota of certain disappointment.  If a martyr's qualm can tree you, it's over faster than it began and the dock is rotting under you, and you're rooted where you stand.

The cobra.  The raven.  The octopus.  The ox.  The ape.  The moth.  The tortoise.  The fox.  All just itching landmarks plotting while dotting the clock.  All just towering obstacles before the final lock.

Didn't mean to drop the ant farm in the sandbox.  Picking up maydays - I'd reply but I can't talk.  If they've got an ear to the door then I'm near to the floor.  I said I've gotta settle the score and more.  Transylvanian home is so welcoming.  I sullied crowds of cretins and yawned while they were sweltering.  Bought a sharp scalpel and went forth with surgery to reconstruct amygdalas back from burning third degree.  No murder but no mercy, I'm thirsty to see their faces when the anchor scurries through the first league.  No cursed sabbath sacrament is safe here, we learned from the purged acrobats that we should stay clear.  Clay smear as a message: 'You torch the mother'.  Another simian clusterfuck for you to discover.  They mutter I'm a nutter but it's all tall tales.  I got an evil scheme.  Countdown till alarms wail.

It's just a muted, tuned device.  Not every external "walk-on-coals" has a price.  Don't live your life as the prowling top dog - cause then there's another one hunting you.  You're the fucking last straw.
Track Name: Sand Citadel
We stay low, layered locusts as a hide.  Wayward sojourn with inhabitants not afraid to pick sides.  No amphetamines buried in the bulls eye but these lackluster middlemen are a necessary evil to blend up finely with the filament.  So I'll just start carving metacarpals, tarp harboring a set of parcels, ticking down for that moment we topple the castle with our arsenal.  When we run parallel to the back breaking bricklayer complex we can stick pins in straw figures that we made in our own image or less.  I guess we dressed for the occasion we projected and defected from the tally under the alias we elected but we gained ground on stained mounds, bound to overthrow the chains that played crown.  Blade remains laid down like trained hounds.  Cattle gap between the battle of apathy and sympathy.  Symphonies of soliloquies.  Radiating out in symmetry.  Catch your tongue almost umbilically and cut it at the tonsils.  Left the pilot light on, assumed the arsonists were responsible.

Now that I'm just a starving artist dressed with my back as a target.  Feel like a sore digit, rigid cornered in a Sicilian market.  If we've gotta conjure a convoy to honor the bonds the palm fronds taunted the cons with, lemme grab my gasmask so we can bomb shit.  No middle to rendezvous at.  No riddle to lob base runes toward.  The instant they cut the cord, they lock the ball and chain of room and board.  Alabaster Megalodon jaws of life.  It's frightening.  A twisted carousel of godless kerosene and hasty lightning.  Eyeing the rat guarding cider with a penchant for sleazy alley fuck antics.  Dust off panic, the pedantic smorgasbord crowd is manic.  Choking on burning piano incense but it's the only instance I've seen the razing of the defenses without the slightest of consequences.  Let's apply that to the low tide sand citadel I'm staring at, no daring tariffs just barren Saharan wastelands glaring back.  You can hate the fact I'm a nocturnal quisling in the corner, hood up, taking notes, worried, then high tailing it for any border.
Track Name: Loup Garou (feat. Ghostferatu)
Somebody's got a sweet tooth for the tasteless. Sensed the cuts of human lumber in his see-through basement. Crunchy smoking fuse box locks the lights down, my sight's out, creak of the floorboard warns of war torn spy routes. / Corpse bride doubt, cold, everything to the touch, buy-out the hesitant mouth. Capture the mountain, kindling around where infinite sentries abound. 5 foot 7 guess lecture, first prize for the best leper sequestration, graded on how you hasten the degradation. / Claymation so vacant, subordinate order sorted out cordially. Invisible wall at her doll eyes. All her subtext reeks morbidly. Jaundice tinge, gaunt skin, Larry Talbot possessor haunts him. Steam pump plug causes the hospital to augment.

E.M.P. in the night, rooftop dwellers congregate, the money commits shame, exalted livestock exonerate, power line tight rope, time traveling white ghost, the great blind hope, ancestry life was a typo.  404 on the home front, scraping together savings for the patron saint of codifying the dying man's ravings. Spare the generations, throw the pages to the blazes, homogenous paper trail inhabiting the empty spaces.

When the sun is up, I’m down and I’m out of place, watching the hellscape of apes suffering coward shakes but the overcast days bring rain on the gaping, open shallow graves.  Disintegrated faces miming the broken vinyl phrases. / Thrice-educated on the edible and poisonous placated snakes under the waves picking at scabs with spades.  Made good time in the DeLorean, aurora borealis orbited discordantly with exorbitant amounts of look-alike Kevorkians. / Scorpio-fortunes contorted for the forlorn wartime survivors, purse diving when the systematically spread regression infests every reticent bomb maker to forsake comfort and crave something visceral from the cyclical drudgery, sending all that opposes sub-marine. / Trouble fiends scheming, fire feeding my ember eyes, vital tie under the butcher, action of the knife is no surprise. Inviting strangers from the shadows to tread above unknown depths, tearing at the moss covered headstones till I don't have fingertips left. / Lingering deftness from the grave years, muscle memorized. Just this one last job and I'm outer limits riding to simpler times. When the sicker crimes become the norm and sordid scenes litter the important dreams, the golden established fall mordantly.

Super brutal footage in kodachrome, tumor diluted to bone, tutelage rumors alluded at home, rudimentary loser unknown. / Crueler than troopers of stone, foam in his mouth and a phone's dial-tone. Drone in a sentimental fly-by mode.  I'm over the oak ridge charcoal code. / Solemnly grown sovereign operant. Clinging to flotsam, scenery common, machinery conscience bleeds problem when circuitry murder comes knocking. / When early bird servos come flocking to joint and bus stop ShaPro coffins put Hoffa to the test for the crest in a twisted metal hellbent festival.  Sewers keep crawling. 

My stupor's rude.  Loup Garou proving ground, uncouth and shrewd.  Eat that truth.  Full moon transformation out on the stoop.   Primordial soup in 31 scoops.  Oath cooped, crow view, sun roof ajar enough the voyeuristic stars call your bluff. Close enough to touch.  Supper on toughened guts.  Suffer long bouts of Adriatic stress or take the plunge.  Gas up those lungs, let's twist those tongues and when the web's spun, rebel run from the thrum.  Or it'll chase you down, take you out, steady the impatient plaintiff a base amount.  Spread the paste around or let the barnacles propagate, specimen mobile plus robots hydrogenate.  A robust hovel doesn't seem impossible though ozone laid layers all over the fossil. / Blood fought over the gospel, audience docile when they're kneeling to grovel. Drove to the boneyard brothel before the moon's full when temperment gets hostile. Furry palm throttle hand around the wind pipe awful and abominable. It's a saga worthy of fatwa but we got bigger problems, the floor is lava. Shadows approaching with souls in a chokehold, the coldness opposes control. Now, behold the DEFCON 1 "cocked pistol" implementation, made a job of debasing. City on high alert, pissing on my reverting to the primal earth, giddy off spider work, mind berserker leading the van into the vile murk, no survivors. My byline on the blindside, never mind the hype, strike of the prototype tribe. And the violence? Ample, seeking none to find the finest examples of "burden of proof." Administration aloof, sleuth conclusion: the toothless youth are the cause when the bourgeois chewed raw, defanged and declawed, now the laws all pause./ Plausible odds cost it all.  Appalling.  Seminal intervals prod comma stalling.  Common kamikaze for the cause, it's probably a symptom of interest kicked off by falling.  Paltered up to here with it, deflect special effects with a hand-made impermeable aura of said tech.  Cerulean current I met sped us by leviathans vying for the right to rule the elementary islands.  Defilement?  I’ve tried it.  While wraiths invaded, we traded blows, slo-mo, and his grace was raided.  Third act Nostromo.  Ground zero Mount Doom.  The aftermath bloomed in the shape of a mushroom.  I choose to execute the ruse, no questions asked, the task is that fast.  And if my head ends up tarred, adorning a spike, you'll know to burn this city's electrical grid like...
Track Name: Icarus Aspirations
The nervous resurgence of my unruly past is toxic.  First burned it in a pyre but the fumes that followed were noxious.  They attempted to point out the difference between dead and dying.  I think we're close enough and it's certainly not for lack of trying.  Look me in the eyes and tell me the stripes are the distraction, not the opposing magnets or the lack of translating captions.  No.  It's the strict palate for "sacrilegious" habits, radical plan fanatics, and a castle/land balance.  Tactical malice.  Tried to take the black but I was called back to Pangaea to oversee leading sacrifices to the Sarlaac.  It's just hungry but we can anthropomorphize till morning and postulate about the greater good and subtle warnings.  I've been hearing muffled howls piercing from the throne room.  A bristling river of shivers sensed the gelid doom and gloom.  Cue the brazen ear-to-ear ruby throat arid grin, if I miss it, I just listen, though I know it pales in comparison to the wrath given down for the roadkill and the venison.  I've struck out the fucking dynasties and all the fucking middlemen.  The chatter speaks.  Apparently I'm constructing coffins so often I'm asking to be forgotten, my rotten likeness stuffed with cotton.

The source of my sight, night's light is hiding.  The whites of my eyes cry for a slice of sky brightening.  "You've trifled in trying", I'll pry the tractor from atop my master.  Amassed a platter of plaster and kissed crass classless adders, but I stress I'm just a single crop, dropped in and buried.  I'm a ferry for oddities, curiosities, and rarities.  Barely reanimated, naked and unladen but for the stake through my caved in chest that I excavated with my phalanges and my hatred.  Held the well-oiled mechanism at eye-level for inspection but couldn't spot a speck of imperfection in any direction.  Blindly poking at a map, any solid mass is a better than where my feet are at, anywhere void of malls and traps.  Anywhere there's a rope to grab.  And now the source of my art, dark spark is confiding.  The hard part's over, now is the time to start writing.  "You've stifled the lightning", I've been suppressing an assassin and yes, now I'm asking for some bacta.  Hit the jets.  I'm ragged.

Icarus aspirations, gorilla glue seals the two halves of my suit.  Constellation acolyte severs the noose.  Automatic audio idiosyncratic.  I've had it.  If my candelabra's mattered, the halberd would've spent the season stagnant.  Adam's apple on the block.    Honored to blot the sermon.  Spurned the discernible theremin now lucid and earthen.  Share the burden.  Share the Burzum.  Your life is not a felony even if the melting angels tout it as their one and only melody.  So peddle heavily.  I'll sail straight pelican.  My pupils dissolve dusty while donors slurp slop and rainbow gelatin.  Skeleton of a demolition expert.  Time to flex work.  Then shirk the churning viscera and it's on to the next merc.  I'm sorry if you thought I was right, and even more if my words are definite.  I know we all started on this sphere but I fear that I'm out of my element.  What a relevant revelation.  I'll suspend the trip for grey mist, snidely philosophize till I split and capsize this shit.