A new song, phone recording. I had the lyrics hanging around, re-wrote them, and gave them music.

Here are the lyrics as they stand now:

    Just one last cigarette
    Twixt lips to stifle what I said
    Homage to the clock that never sleeps
    I’m forever seventeen
    Yeah, future blissfully unseen
    Tomorrow’s just another day

So easy to become a creature of habit
Turn from fun to I gotta have it
Erase those nights, turn tail and rabbit
I’m foamin at the mouth, red eyed and rabid
Spark up even though we’re in sight of the bouncer
First common ground, this smoke my sponsor
One shared vice, a common enemy
Guaranteed way to break the ice with me

CHORUS

Don’t need the weather yeah, who can keep up
Will I go to jail for a doobie or a cup
I’d rather talk of love and life and fondness for drink
I’ve got a +1 to recognizing the brink
It’s a funny thing having something to lose
Rethinking my apathy, restructuring blues
I know my life is good when I get to choose and I
Decide not to wear those concrete shoes

CHORUS

And so habits change and I need to find
A new balance point, a change of kind
An equilibrium, an uncommon grind
Strategic with an even mind

CHORUS


Small Talk

Originally some I wrote for Faulty Conscience, but it never went anywhere.

SQUATTA BEWARE

You don't know the election's coming up
Perfect time for a squatta round-up
Cops are coming to your spot
They'll burn your tent, they'll get the drop
 
Squatta Beware – They're coming for you
Squatta Beware tonight
Squatta Beware - They're coming for you
You better be ready to fight!
 
A picture perfect afternoon 40's in the park
Even got a little money left For some food when it gets dark
You met the perfect Chelsea girl Fresh D cells in the crackbox
Weather's good the night is warm Squat has brand new locks
Drink Drank Drunk Yeah, you don't even know
They saw you at the protest & now you're being followed
Stirring up the youth & not paying no rent
Speaking up loud and proud Against the government
 
CHORUS
 
SWAT team     Flashlights
Creeping up      In the night
Coming through your broken window
Plastic cuffs won't let you go
Revolution is their worry
Snatch you up in a muthafuk'n hurry
Gotta squash all that dissent
Talkin shit about the president

CHORUS


Squatta Beware

Jaded - Op and Ivy cover

Olympia, WA - Acoustic Folk Jam at Sean Conlon's living room

Maybe more punk than metal, but there's no punk option for Genre.

Anyways, first new music I've produced in a while. Written within the past week. It's me on drums, me on guitar, and me on vox.

Proof Of Life.mp3.RPP

Me on drums, me on guitar, me on vox Recorded single mic per instrument on 8/5/2018

LYRICS:

Proof Of Life

I don't give a fuck I'm not doing this for the money
I do this because without it, my soul fucking dies
I don't give a fuck I'm not doing this for fame
It's the only fucking way to prove I'm alive

Stack & stack this poison, ammunition, this obsession
Stack & stack this hunger, slake this thirst, this malnutrition

I don't give a fuck because I'm doing this for me
Fucking A Even paid to play
Suckers buying tickets 'cause I'm doing this for free
I'll come find you if you don't find me

Fuckin do it on the stage, on the porch or the street
You don't understand my drive, what I do to prove I'm alive
It's this or pain - nothing but decay
But to be honest I like 'em both

Because that's the ultimate proof of life
Don't stop, boots on the floor, don't stop, boots on the floor
Make guitar snarl till posters hit the floor
Smash on these drums till books fall off the shelf

Make all this fuckin noise till I forget myself

The ultimate proof of life

Chestnut Decay

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