this is amazing and sounds like Brian Wilson off his meds playing at cbgb

Dude, in many ways this is the most punk rock music I have ever heard. The lyrics are fantastic and dimensional, and the sound is decidedly lo-fi and fleshy. Tons of meaning in here, presented earnestly and without pretense or hubris. Very nice.

divaD eiwoB '5 sraeY' - vocals, piano, strings only

Marquee Moon/Adventure/Live At The Waldorf [The Complete Elektra Recordings Plus Liner Notes]

Marquee Moon (Remastered)

Death by Unga Bunga!!

The Mummies - (You Must Fight To Live) On The Planet Of The Apes

CBGB's and the birth of U.S. Punk

Richard Hell & the Voidoids - Blank Generation

The Mummies - Stronger Than Dirt

Johnny Thunders & the Heartbreakers - L.A.M.F [Original UK Track LP] - 09 - One Track Mind

mollify the morning,
mended to a maybe maze of cut-out-carefully's,
all am I adorning,
flesh for scorning,
this clocking tick of urine and feces,

even oddballs get their bounce around,
but no one seems to see the things he see's...

eyes shuttered, 
cries cluttered,
nightmarriage,
disparage,

dreams drenched in worse than dying death,
with babies black upon their breath,
humans hither to wither,
in the septic slither,
paving gold on human mold,
and human luggage bought and sold,

longing lights,
but I'm not right,
plant my pain the past,
the more I reach,
for blest beseech,
the longer I cast,
shadow shapes,
that drape the gape,
of my black holy heart,

stars collapse with rasp of gasp,
...oh let me shine through,

the inkling of a twinkling eye,
still knows the throes of tear-drip-dry,
my heart to bleed forevermore,
thy knock unlock my dead end door,

visions unveil a path putrid and pale,
monster machine famine feeds on dreams,
wonder of wings parches on my streams,
to unstifle the stars long left,
so still born brittle and bereft,
the dream devourer daunts me down,
and I must stand on sinking ground,

mausoleum milking maid,
greyful land of a wasting off white widow,
pulse emulses till you wade
your woes in the lows where the ghasting one goes,

suicideways,
don't you go that way,
just put it off until tomorrow tears,
trickling time to tongue a morbid mime,
you'll get yours,
and soon they will get theirs,
outside birds bleat bliss,
the day-bringer,
he welcomes you to keep uncommon cares,

self spire, holds fire, in water's attire,
the spheres celeste churn in your chest,
no longer longing like the rest,
just one sip on the lip of our lakes sweet sip,
yet your ripples reach the furthest shores,
so raise that vibration of yours,

what you were is dead and gone,
step out of your tomb,
who will sing your sacred songs from the skies to the gloom?
who will scream those sacred songs all teeming to life?

only you will fulfill those fathoms of fate,

beyond death your breath intones,
the sacred truth so long unknown,
no words could ever cage it's clasp.
held heaving in your grieving grasp,

stars scream awake,
for the sake of forsake,
pulling the weeds,
whittling out from your deed,
weighing your worth,
wrought form your death till birth,

they echo to the furthest sun,
the lies you've spoke,
the wrong you've done,
done shrivel like a shirking glance,
that can't accept a second chance,

AWAKEN TO YOUR TRUE SELF

Maybe Maze

I prefer to read books and continue my weird music than to waste my time on facebook

The '60s Music for Sync Licensing (Film & TV)
www.cleopatrafilmtv.com 
For Inquires please contact: 
Benny Cardenas 
tel: (310) 477-4000 
email: benny@cleorecs.com 
(P) (C) 2012 Cleopatra Records, Inc.. All rights reserved. Unauthorized reproduction is a violation of applicable laws

MC5 - Kick Out The Jams (Original Uncensored Version 1968)


Magdalena Mirror was a saint and a seer,
 and a sin-eating scapegoat divine,
 for her sickness brought health and her need it brought wealth,
 and her love?... it brought never you mind,

With her mind over matters and her torn blessed tatters, 
 and her moth dusted garbage bag gown,
 will she hold a whole nation in rapt contemplation
 of the angles that fangle her frown,

She was swaddled in thorns from the day she was born,
 when they plastered her into the casting,
 in her stead it is said that the blood she had bled
 was bestower of life ever-lasting,

At the cleft of her cough, cadavers became soft,
 and her sneezing caused freezing to warm,
 with a vomiting wretch, true life's breath did she fetch,
 through the puking rebuke of a charm,

The reprise of her cries could unpry blinded eyes,
 so they kept her in burdens bereft,
 and they opened their ears as they drank from her tears, 
 which could heal both the dumb and the deaf,

the refrain of her pain could make one young again,
 so the Everyone lent her its ear,
 and the song that she sang was a high-hunger-pang,
 from a place beyond hatred or fear,

A place where the There, from the trees to the air,
 is calling, clothed in your own thought,
 again and again, the familiar refrain,
 in a language the tongue has forgot,

Jain Vangles 


Maybe Maze

Jain Vangles

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