Ragtime Richie used to to tell me how the days go/ 
And they go slow, and they go slow, and they go slow/ 
(X?) 
But he never said that they’d come for me/ 
Fit in sheep’s clothing so comfortably/ 
The salting of sinners was up to me/ 
And I made a pillar in front of me/ 


But he never said they’d string me for my spine/ 
Living on the line between a picture and a frame/ 
We seem to come here all the time/ 
And everyone around amounts to nothing but their name/ 
I was sick of playing games, when the plane came crashing to my main frame/ 
An observation at Griffith Park when the rain came/ 
And how dare you be you out there/ 
While I’m stuck out here, where you have to fucking fish some care/ 
‘Trust none’ in a head full of widow maker/ 
‘Bust one’, the dead do not easily anger/ 
‘Undone’, open mouth releasing vapors/ 
‘First son’ the only was probably a favor/ 
And I just, might just love somebody/ 
And I just, might just touch somebody/ 
And I just, might just snuff somebody/ 
And I just, might just catch a body/ 
(X2) 

Cause they all talk big and they all cast shadows/ 
Old yellow finger kept a notebook in his flannel/ 
Old yellow finger wrote a life without a hassle/ 
Old yellow finger is his own fucking castle/ 
Cause they all talk big and they all cast shadows/ 
Old yellow finger kept a knife beneath his flannel/ 
Old yellow finger kept a knife beneath his flannel/ 
Old yellow finger kept a knife beneath his flannel/ 
And I don’t even want to talk to ya’ll/ 
I don’t need a bunch of actors for a monsters ball/ 
I’m like five sheets to the wind, eat the chagrin/ 
Peep the glory, the grief will be the end/ 
And it’s all triple sixes in the lonely old room/ 
And it’s all simple fixes when it’s only you and you/ 
Please teach me how to unfold/ 
I’m fucking breaking, and we’re all getting too old/ 

I wanna stab your fucking world.

Gift Horse - Ragtime Richie

@visitorknocking Can anyone just call Christ, is his number public?/ Or do I have to be a herald with them blazing trumpets?/ Some people are better off left a line in a book/ The timing was shook, out of mind yet mindful in looks/ From your lips to gods ears, how odd it falls silent/ Saints speak of pastures that they’ve seen with closed eyelids/ You should have seen me on the day I found the answers/ Hands in their pray formations begging “remove the cancer”/ Never ask for the last pour of the cask/ When you never once contributed to filling my glass/ And I may share your blood, but I won’t share your hate/ And I won’t dare make noise for anyone who cannot carry their weight/ Wish I knew my papa more before he laid in bed/ I bet I’d learn to live a lot before my doctor was dead/ Electroshock therapy, inherited bolts/ Lay me down, don’t be scared of me, I’m scared of my own thoughts/ Her only sons youngest sons only son/ Wish I had the same predilection for a holy one/ Use grandads butcher twine to try to hold together/ Ask me if I’m better when I finally feel that fat render/ Down into a boiling pot/ My own words ate me alive before I soiled my shot/ That’s what I got, years trying to thicken the plot/ I found a pillar of salt, a modern version of Lot/ And the old heads say, “it’s the way we was raised”/ When the snake bit the tongue, there was nothing left to say/ Now I’m trudging towards thirty with inherited guilt/ Manic episodes, a stomach full of swill/

E b yo - Ticonderoga (Ft. Visitor)

Finding myself as my elders couldn't Taking time for myself in discovering What do you do when teacher come crying and moaning You teach them a lesson and then go insane I'm just in that constant struggle wanting to help, but I have no muscle Learning to help,myself what a puzzle Hurt cause when I help, I don't know either get help, oh we need each other Finding myself as my elders couldn't Now making rhymes myself and discovering What to do when teacher comes crying and moaning You ask for blessings and then stay insane Just in that constant struggle wanting to help, but I have no muscle Learning to help,myself what a puzzle Hurt cause when I help, I don't know either get help, we need each other

E b yo -GettIngiT.

@visitorknocking
Produced by @humbertoeme

Lord willing, the scores four nil and/
I’m sore from the floorboards offering assistance/
I snore through the best shit and wake unimpressed/
Saw my angel try to race and make it out of the bed/
Took a jug to the font at my favorite haunt/
I got drunk and hit the ground when she decided to walk/
And I know that she feels it every time that we talk/
It’s a hollowed out stump with initials and a cross/
More feelings to hoard poor children/
Forlorn tears spilling, hanging from the ceiling/
Emaciated villain with a knot in my neck/
Told Bear that I would die if I tried to forget/
Some words reek of lies in her sentences/
If only I could realize what the message is/
Boots on to rally when I find out the truth/
And when they asked my name all I said was Wisdom Tooth/

Dear lord, piss poor, fuck I’m here for?/
Caught an ear full during all the beer pours/
He said he made her spread and even that she wished me dead/
Now I’m shouting out “I wish you fucking cracked my head”/
I’ll be the leader if it means it’s in disguise/
In a far and distant land where I don’t know of peoples lies/
And I’m out of peoples lives, forever, and always/
I’ll still keep the teeth in my pocket into old age/
More fillings, and candy apple drillings/
Laughing like I lost the plot I’m not kidding/
A penny for your pity and a dollar for your wisdom/
When I’m dead I don’t wanna hear a single ‘I miss him’/
And everything is a draw, and everything is oblique/
And not a thing is okay, and here I never do sleep/
Coffee stains and plaque on my shaky planks/
It’s all love, no love, no thanks/

Visitor - Wisdom Tooth

@visitorknocking
Prod. by @humbertoeme
I made a movie in my head trying to rustle up the old gods/ I can't see because my lenses live in post hoc/ 
Frost bit, could you bum a cat a stog ock?/ 
Foals hop the fences, down in Trenton where they broke locks/ 
Coke rock, and a little bit of family curse/ 
Damned if I do, damned if I don't dismantle earth/ 
Booked a show and hoofed the whip down to Mechanicsburg/
 Hopelessly irrelevant, searching for a hand to nurse/
 And who are you to not be who you said you'd be?/ 
And who am I to believe that that's my business?/ 
And what are we but stuck, living out a beggars dream?/ 
And how dare I ask for truth in the soul kitchen/ 
My soul slips in, and out of this place/
 I finally found grace, then bottomed out inside of her waist/ 
I couldn't reach for anything that wasn't out of the way/ 
So I decided I would hide it in an obvious place/ 
Buck fifty in my dreams trying to hurt somebody/ 
Used to come apart at seams in apartment lobbies/ 
Life is what it seems if you're a sleep and eat zombie/ 
Seep into the sediment and breathe, your last hobby/
 I could cry but I won’t waste my tears/ 
That shit is for the birds, for the birds, for the birds/

Humeberto.eme - Califia (Ft. Visitor)

@visitorknocking
Prod. by https://soundcloud.com/humbertoeme

And it’s not a distraction it’s a burden/
And you look just like me when I was burning/
And I’m fresh out of water, so you’re squirming/
Back to where we come from tadpole or vermin/

Fuck you say to me?

Eat your fucking words/
A healthy diet/
Pacing to myself/
Wondering if you were lying/
It can’t be, people can’t be that cold/
I jot it in my notes/
To remember what you owed/

Samsara underneath all of the samizdat/
Pamphlets from a dead god, scribbles from a polyglot/
I used to think I’d be alive by thirty/
And now I think I’m drawing decks for those who hurt me/
The king must fall, and the queen must rise/
But the jokers doing blow, and the jacks tell lies/
LA baby, in a wavering time/
Trying to talk to the walls so they wouldn’t let me die/
Pluck an eyelash for every time I find that/
Cold demeanor in a person that I’d find crass/
And tell em that I bet I’d love you forever/
But it’s still tossed sheets in an exodus of embers/

Hardly awake, I still quake and shake/
Don’t ask me for 8 when I’m sleeping through the day/
I’m an off brand version of my father/
ma dukes kept the nice in me in hopes that I would prosper/
But I’m thankful for the blood and the bones/
And every song that we would sing when we were cooking alone/
I did it my way, it turned out bunk/
Halo to the horns on some blitzkrieg funk/
Goddamn unc, that’s a tall order/
It’s really been a month since your sons been a forager?/
Out there on his own with a tucked purse/
You should’ve given him your blade before it got worse/
We shot a movie out a 1 BR/
Too bad we’ll all be dead before we know who we are/
And I bet if we’re some saints it’s cause we’re patrons at bars/
And if we gotta be honest, I’m fucking glad we’re apart/

Humeberto.eme - Chestnut (ft.Visitor)

Lyrics by @visitorknocking
Beat by @humbertoeme

Humeberto.eme - Blüdhaven (Ft. Visitor)

https://soundcloud.com/visitorknocking

Produced by @humbertoeme


Steeping my lungs in a sea of the Lao/
Reap what I sow when the demons allow/
Belief in the Tao, in a flea bitten town/
Don’t need you for now, so I’ll see you in a while/
 
Wonder where they took, the chalice of the gods?/
The devils have a thirst and hell they’re looking for a drop/
I might join them in their revelry, they’re telling me my odds/
That I’ll make it to this summer, in this unrelenting fog/
When the chalk outlines come up out of their graves/
And get revenge in technicolor like they never could display/
Then this city won’t be after me, yeah that’ll be the day/
The ghosts of it’s ugliness decide it’s time to play/
Give me your poor, give me your guns, give me your everything now/
Give me your crops, give me your papes, bet I won’t leave with a bow/
She could have been a poet but she used her words on cheap thrills/
Steep hills, running up a tab with gravity/
A brush with lust and touch isn’t sanity/
Drown me in your liquor, don’t you pour it out for amity/
Bleak as they come when the sun goes down/
Feast on my tongue so the sorry’s don’t sound/
And you better run when the truth comes out/
A tooth bitten down in the too bitter now/

Visitor - Maximón

@Visitorknocking
Produced by @humbertoeme

So I guess it’s All Saint’s Day, back to where the trains lay/
Hoping that they move me from a life that’s full of rain delays/
Hope you got all of my letters and that they’re mainstays/
Clinging to Ignatius when the weather and the pain breaks/
I hung myself on a semicolon today, when gasping, I paused and then let the words fly away/
All so you could leak your breath up into the sky, while reading, the autobiography of a fly/
Gold, pretty, pretty gold, please tell me you’ll still think of me when you’re old/
Please tell me the things that I’ve gifted have not been sold/
Please tell me your hair is still pretty, pretty gold/

You said my hands are old and worn, I’ve got characters hands/
Wrought iron lips and a shit list of demands/
Where’d you get your long stare and can you spare it for a spell?/
Will it suit my pity fine, will it even fit me well? Hell/
A page turner licking digits til the end times/
Wet fingers, on a mission on that red line/
Trying to find my way to some sort of arms/
But I’m still fucking stuck following red alarms/
I think I’m free of harm but I’m just darned by a loom/
And every free second I spend starved in my room/
I wanna feast, but there’s no celebration/
So I stay laying at Golgotha just me and my libations/
The lack of patience could cut a fucking finger nail/
You said he meant nothing, I fought to no avail/
It’s still the loneliest corner of the world/
Where no one really cares about their diamonds and their pearls/

It’s all about the chains and the chain mail/
Hanging off your neck with the grace of a hangnail/
Birds of a feather don’t exist/
When all that could fly was the time that we missed/

Visitor - Caladrius

https://soundcloud.com/visitorknocking
https://soundcloud.com/plastictaste6
https://soundcloud.com/humbertoeme
King Friday’s Reprise

Haphazard with the way I lay waste/
To my fragile insides so decayed in their cage/
I wanna, wake with stakes in a world full of hammers/
And avoid being nailed to the Earth as a cadaver/
I’ve been small city stone skipping, long drive throne gripping/
Spokes smoking in the open, target practice, lone pigeon/
And all my heroes hold Caligula coins in their front pockets/
I should’ve known better when they spoke of prophets/
That didn’t speak of solace, they only spoke of blame/
And all the golden objects, they held so unashamed/
Dizzy in the way that you collaborate with deities/
Dancing in a field of smoke behold the crown of peonies/
You found your dream it seems, it’s written in the key of E/
But that’ll never leave you free and it won’t leave you peacefully/
No healing, no trust, no feeling, no rush/
No glass ceiling touched, no dividends/
No stealing, no fuss, no squealing, no budge/
No reeling in the flood, no innocence/

Spoke with smoke lingering around this nose again/
Cold provokes all the memories from Slocum’s Den/
The coat grew thin and the clocks punched steadily/
Outstretched hand trying to make one a friend to me/
Wrote a grand opus that I floated off for 8 or 9/
Thought that I could fill my quota choking out a couple lines/
Mea culpa Caroline, terrified of glaring eyes/
Wondering if I could sterilize the mic with errant time/
They used to call me a king/
They used to a call me a pro, they haven’t called me since spring/
And when I wake with a goal, I mostly hang and I swing/
From all the ropes that I’ve been threading in the absence of wings/
I’d take it back if I could/
But now I’m wringing out my 20s through a rag as I should/
It’s all meat, no muscle, all strive, no hustle/
All speed no buckles, all iron in me/
It’s all speech, no bubbles, all crime, no cudgel/
All leaves, no rustle, no lying in me/

I held back but I still can’t stop/
Fuck a drought, brought the rain to LA with me ock/
I’m getting better ever passing year, there’s no doubt/
I’m pulling better shit outta my ass than you do out your mouth/
Speaking of mouths watch yours when you address me/
I’ll take a page from my opps book and crack your headpiece/
You puff chest deadly, with upset medleys/
I bust nuts heavily across your girls bedsheets/
No one can test me off a bean or a Presley/
If they lean off the mezzanine I’ll push and say they threatened me/
Can’t get the best of me, unless you’re invested in me/

Last dude that want it caught a buck and sorry texted me/
Love me or hate me it’s still an obsession/
Fuck what they paid me this ain’t a profession/
Mode of expression, a hopeless invention/
Reap what you sew when they stow your intentions/
Eat crow when you know they are fessing/
The older you grow you should hold all your lessons/

Used to be known as Friday/
The heyday or my day or it’s miles away/
I don’t give a fuck about nostalgia all the times splayed/
Across the dining room table with the candles lit/
I’ll get the banners split, and cross the lines you hammered in/
Take it as some Sarin spit, or tearing out your larynx bitch/
It’s unfair, I don’t care, I’m so fuego/
As loose as a whale’s vagina, San Diego/
There ain’t no saints around these parts/
And even in three bars, I pull the full retard/
The dundada, that rejects Prada/
Never drinks Teramana, sometimes smokes zaza/
Nueva Jork til they bury me/
Best believe when I say there’s no swords that could parry me/
Ma dukes carried me, pops seemed scary to me/
Staring out the lair to see a world that I could barely reach/
It’s all hate, no love, all skates, no rugs/
All fate, no plugs, no giving in/
It’s all stakes, no shrugs, all shakes, no drugs/
All thanks, no mud, no quitting then/

PlasticVisitor.eme

King Fridays Reprise

https://soundcloud.com/visitorknocking
https://soundcloud.com/plastictaste6
https://soundcloud.com/humbertoeme

Serafina

I stuck around to fuck around to stab my flag in Fairfax/
Sallow mouth to hallowed ground to try to get the care back/
Yellow teeth and brittle bones, fickle when they’re set in stone/
NY to CA to relate and drive it home/
That I will never be a mainstay anyhow/
Super elusive with any noose I’ve been put in now/
And every knot was just a notch on the belt/
Hope swells and never floats in a city where no one looks for help/
Hell, maybe you can scream my name/
With a burning voice, I won’t even reach your flames/
For the last time pony up to reap my claim/
Just a bunch of painted revelries and sleep I save/
For three odd days, the heat keep the eons grey/
Fuck a grand grand gesture I’ve learned to eat that pain/
And me I’m sane, so seething on a beat is strange/
Keep your eyes open we just might believe in the strain/

Come and get it if you really want static pimp/
They call me Visitor a rapper slash savage bitch/
I reconfigure shapes and then forget the bigger names/
They didn’t mean shit anyway, they’re all a bunch of phonies/
I spit and spray, write ‘em in a hidden page/
Kill a song and drown ‘em all out with all of my wicked ways/
Bric-a-brac a grip of haze, empty bottles empty days/
Leave me on my lonesome and watch me from oh so far away/
My mother fucking nut is over 9000/
I speak in riddles like you found me on a high mountain/
I climb out then look back at the cave/
It’s all love unless you get in my way/
Keep a pistol over by the fucks not given/
A bat by the bed, the drugs by the prison/
And you can tell me that you’re better than me/
I still shit on ya’ll effortlessly, it’s like that/

Serefina

Wasn’t nothing to ask, and wasn’t nothing to be told/
I’ve been burdened with cracks, in everything that I know/
And when it’s time to relax, I feel a scratch in my throat/
That’s telling me to go back to see if I have some hope/
Run tell that, that the functions exposed/
I’ve been loved for that, but I’ve been hated by most/
And when the blood comes back, to where it naturally flows/
I’ll bite through tongue and through tacks, to prove that I have a soul/

Marigold petals always littering my brain/
I’ve been trained to be dim but I was born to be aflame/
Awake in the most honest way I possibly can be/
Should I kiss the fucking ground if the sky can’t stand me?/
You ask what I can be, but not what I am/
Is it fortune leaking through all of the cracks in my hand?/
Is it torture being used or is it all sort of a plan?/
Broken toy askew for loose screws in demand/
Maybe we can fix this, maybe can fight/
Maybe we can fuck and add a notch onto our lives/
Maybe we can fold as far as seraphim go/
Never even show our faces in that heroin glow/
Apparently though, the air is filled with sarin and smoke/
So no kiss that we could share could be a fair one in hopes/
To carry our spokes, to linger off with nary a coat/
Couldn’t believe it when we let all of the air out the floats/

It’s like the game, is called, the rain, it falls/
Same as it’s always been, white plain walls/
The game, is called, the rain, it falls/
Same as it’s always been, white plain walls/

March to the beat of the drum in your heart/
In stark contrast to the rhythm from the start/
Headlong we part, and we’ll meet again in roses/
Separate the art from the focus/

I put the needle to the record just to make some serotonin/
Put my head inside machines to try to figure out what’s broken/
Put the dead in picture frames and leave them right out in the open/
Put the barrel to my dome, no home, left smoking/

Needle to the record just to make some serotonin/
Put my head inside machines to try to figure out what’s broken/
Put the dead in picture frames and leave them right out in the open/
Put the barrel to my dome, no home, left smoking/

The Nazarite

Performed By @visitorknocking
Produced By @humbertoeme

Visitor, Humeberto.eme - Glass Idols

Sabbath

Burroughs

Year Of The Tooth

Gideon

Mount Zion

King Coma

Orchid Grove

No Sabo Kid(ft.Visitor)

Waiiiiiiii

FLor De Banana(Ft. Al Grind)

Anuncio el Visitante

Palmtreeboys

Pan De Banano Sin Trigo(Ft. Visitor)

Regephunk

CoCos

Anuncio Sap

Hangout

Music collective 
@visitorknocking
@humbertoeme
@chencho404
@e-b-yo
https://soundcloud.com/yohan-valter
@algrindsap

Popular tracks by Cold Foundation Collective