Heart Ache always starts from the head down.
When you're feeing lucky you start to push it around.
I lay my life on the stage not read it off a paper.
A goddamn paper
A fucking paper
a nearly twenty year old paper

Here's to pissing around.

Tug of war, Micky said no!
Leave this parking space at once!
A rotten fruit dead in your purse,
Lies and flies eat it to the core
Smiles, young smiles make you awfully sore.
Turn on the lights,
I'm trying to read
I'm trying to read
I can't see this bloody paper.

Here's to pissing around.

Write it down. Write it out. Lick it, seal it shut.
Prepare the diner. Take a shit on your porcelain throne.
White as bone. Flush the toys in vomit.
There's your headache. Lime stone in your eyes.

Baste the bacon! It's yours! It's yours!
Finish your eggs and toast.
Change the coffee filter and read todays paper.

Here's to pissing around.

What's so great about fermentation? 
When it takes you over. Drinking the blood of pleasure.
Surely type A positive, negative.
Leave it to dry and blow away like dust in the morning.

They make you sing like a fool and dance like a tool. Stain your pants, and vomit on your paper. 

Here's to pissing around.

Paper.

Here's to Pissing around

I cannot hear you tell me
I cannot fear you kill me
I am dry,cannot bleed
I still try, not to need
Bury me. Bury me. Not he.

Ooo. Don't ya know the rest of me is in the sun.
In the corner he sleeps he dreams, his mother.
Standing naked, holding hands, a fence of bones and a well of sand.
Shrunken Stomachs fill my head. I know they're all dead.

Disney bedtime story. Micky mouse tuck me in.
Mary Poppins help the medicine go down.

Children rise. Children fall. The young have given their all.

Cannot

Mr. E.

Rough and in the works sound I'm developing.

Grindcore Song (rough)

A demo version of a Liberté song yet to come. Drums are loops from Garage band. Synths are from guitar. 

Lyric's:

"In heaven everything's fine. In heaven everything's
In heaven everything's fine. In heaven everything's

I am not that brave. I am not that

When are you coming back? When are you coming?

If God never sleeps, then why'd he play you, why'd he play you for keeps?

Winding clocks, you'll find him counting his children's final days.
Sailing souls to boredom, changing wine to water behind bars and cafés.

Gotta ratify your lessons
Gotta terrify your youngsters
Gotta gratify, gratify, gratify your presence.
Heavy breathing on their blankets for fun.
Wiping their tears with the end of your gun.

Funny how you fainted praying for a lie to tell.
No one's hearing their clothing ripping bare beneath the lord.

A freak show freak of nature crying out in pain:

"I fucked the rain! I fucked the rain!".

His name's Poseidon. He doesn't like it.
Sinking under in his grandeur."

Everything's Fine

An oldie but a goodie. Recorded over 4 years ago.

Relapse

Go Fish

Demo of a song I wrote over the summer. You can faintly hear the lyrics in the background. Bleh.

I 94

boredom. this is lazy and untalented cut and paste poop. 

GarageBand is not a Band

Heart Ache always starts from the head down.
When you're feeing lucky you start to push it around.
I lay my life on the stage not read it off a paper.
A goddamn paper
A fucking paper
a nearly twenty year old paper

Here's to pissing around.

Our prices don't matter. The flavor needn't flatter.
Our offer still stands, but it's getting late.
A wild card at best, but it's out of date.

Babe... I'm trying to read. I'm trying to read. I'm trying to read... 
this paper.

Here's to pissing around.

Our prices don't matter. The flavor needn't flatter.
Our offer still stands, but it's getting late.
A wild card at best, but it's out of date.

They make you sing like a fool, and dance like a tool.
Stain your pants and vomit... on your paper.

Tis Liberté