Joan-Clone Phone Dome

Baby, get me worked up, make it harder than this
To forget where I’m from and all that I miss.
Keep your hands in the air, I’ll ball mine into fists.
I want you to feel this glaring lack of a kiss.
Like a soldering iron through a tub full of lard,
You pierce through my chest and melt at my heart.
Remember that time that we went for a walk?
I misspelled your name with the sidewalk chalk.

Slyly residing in the palm of your hand
Is my whole conscious being, relentlessly panned
And torn limb from limb by your every demand
Or stark lack thereof - the hardest to stand.
I wish for the days when I could still see straight
And I wrote songs with passion not a passionate hate.
And I hate how these scars haven’t just yet healed,
But mostly I hate how good this feels.

I think you’re right on.
I keep it right on
The tip of my tongue.
I’m so afraid though,
To speak my mind on
Topics we hide from.
You’re all that I want,
I’m just someone you know.

Alive in the sense that I can still feel pain,
And conjure some nausea at the sound of your name,
I live with so goddamn much to gain
But happiness has proven the hardest to feign.
Illicit as my wishes happen to be,
I guess until you start writing songs about me,
Listless without my mistress’s ado,
I’ll spend all my time writing songs about you

And the way that your hair falls across your face,
Taking me back to my most intimate place.
Your image both rendered with tension and grace,
Reduced to my simmering lust for your taste.
I’ve seen something shine in the back of your eyes,
Though requisite hookups with replica guys,
Sully its sheen and replace it with fire,
The chase unrequited is all I desire.

An Instant

My acoustic cover of the reggae fusion classic.

Album photo by Raza Rizvi

Sweat (UB40/Inner Circle cover)

Sudden Town (Bliss)

Harvest (Abundance)

Dinner Bells (Triumph)

Written and recorded by Stephen Marsiano
Mastered by Cameron Boucher

I Can't Wait Til I Don't

I'm not in love with blood I just love what runs through your veins.
Taking me back to dirt as you peel off your shirt, find me licking the salt that remains.
Like a deer with the last bit of summer sun caught pinballing through my eyes.
And I know how this goes on the side of the road, gun coming in hot off your thigh.

I only came for the coffee, duck the rain at least.
But your kind isn't kind or at all that likely to be fleeced.

But I wanna stay,
Be your chef for a day,
Make puns about steak
And leave at the break of day,
Cater scarlet,
Help you curb garlic,
Make eternity pass like May.

How long do you have to sleep? Cause the company you keep keeps me chilled to the bone every day.
I could guess your routine, but I'd rather be positive and shrewd in controlling the shades.

The tarot says I'm not worth it.
At least until I spring a leak.
But you're too well-versed in mercy, frankly, to set me free.

But I can't just leave,
I'll make my bones if you need.
Drink alone, source my feed:
O, B, A and AB. Just bite me.
I'll be godless at best,
Vow to relinquish zest.
I could be just like you, if you'd please?
If you'd please?

And you whisper to me
Through your bared teeth,
I'm a coward and twee
And your life's a disease.
I'm a shampire.

Monster Mash/Shampire

Shampire

Do you the know the difference between
what patience means to me and those who lean on
led-on drama queens? I'd take a week to lose it.
They ruffle feathers for years.

He'll practice weeknights, strumming with a pick or postcard
1187 SaMo Boulevard or something.
The spilled beer runs the napkin ink.

And it all sounds the same.
With a slightly different name.

I wanna take you to the bar with tatted up bellies,
Closets chock full of rock'n'roll skellies,
Sweat like the pigs strung up in the delis,
Hit the dance floor with the Jagr cellies.
We're 26 years away from the day
But cars seem to speed and brake all the same.
Your cheeks, red lights, aglow in the night.
I think I feel it now and I think it feels right.

And like the long arm of the lawn
I'm green for you,
Snaking through this city,
Bringing me right back to-

Me: alone, plaid-clad, Spring weather hot on my neck.
You: a ghost the east coast could never expect-
A lesson of mine (the unloving kind),
Heartbeat syncing to the pops in your spine.

Lightheaded blood lust stroke for stroke
Like a thousand hour class in who (or how) to choke.
I'll double down to stave off regret.
You're not one to hedge your bets.

I wanna take you to the bar with tatted up bellies,
Closets chock full of rock'n'roll skellies,
Sweat like the pigs strung up in the delis,
Hit the dance floor with the Jagr cellies.
We're 26 years away from the day
But hearts seem to seethe and break all the same.
Your cheeks, red lights, aglow in the night.
I think I feel it now and I think it feels right.

This feels right.

Mistral 2000

Curse And Clamor

They got homemade mead at your favorite bar
Roald Dahl to read at your favorite bar
They got fair trade weed at your favorite bar
All we fucking need at your favorite bar

They got fake IDs at your favorite bar
Karaoke at your favorite bar
Where the maître d's take Iraqi dinar
And speak Japanese at your favorite bar

But I lost my keys
And my wallet's squeezed
Jeans ripped at the knee

Like an owl sees
sat up in the trees
An acute disease

I get up on my feet at your favorite bar
Too drunk to speak at your favorite bar
I pray the Lord my soul to keep down at your favorite bar
Irritably at your favorite bar

When I laugh, I bleed at your favorite bar
You could die in tweed at your favorite bar
They got girls on speed at your favorite bar
Too much of me at your favorite bar

Cozy

I'd love to spend the winter breaking bottles in the cold
Crushing skin against the snow, breathing smoke out of my nose
I’d love to keep it simple and invite the things we loathe
To a home away from home to hang our heads inside the stove

Three cheers for cider, rum and spice, I’d kill for something mulled
And the way we’d spend those days in bed, you’d think that we were pros
But fate took time to plan the frigid season of the robes
And thus it seems we’ll celebrate the month from separate coasts
 
I’d love to see you pulling down the edges of my shirt
To hide your sly vanilla hide gone recently inert
You’re framed within the doorway, shouldered up against the wood
The Devil’s in the corner making sure that I make good

My teeth ache from transitions of hot to cold and back
And worse, withdrawal, from the shoulder bites that they're now forced to lack
Your skin, white as freshly frothed and angry seething seas
Yet solace to my pearly whites as I begin to teethe

I've tried to straighten out my feelings for the gray-scale skies
But my aching guts want nothing more than to dichotomize
So here I sit, evenly split, and in love with both sides
Wanting; having. Summer; winter: ambivalence unwise

Wanting; having. Summer; winter: ambivalence unwise

I’d love to see you pulling down the edges of my shirt
To hide your sly vanilla hide gone recently inert
You’re framed within the doorway, shouldered up against the wood
The Devil’s in the corner making sure that I make good

Winter

And in my old age
All I wanna do is sleep with you
For days straight

We could start a league
Meet two times a week
Fundraise with lemonade

We can let the moon shine
Let the moon shine
On her own
Behind enemy lines
I'm making you shy
But noon's nigh

And when your eyes flutter open
I'll trace the tattoo across your back
I'ma save this memory for when I can't sleep
Or I have a heart attack

We can let the moon shine
Let the moon shine
On her own
Behind enemy lines
I'm making you shy
But noon's nigh

Nap League

Tiki Bar Blazer Girl

One man, two-handed, transcontinental band. Bedroom indie pop. NJ/CA

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