Xanax holiday

Man I am stressed, maybe I’ll just take a vacation. Too bad that thought stresses me out, wait another one does too.

Fuck it, I’ll do it anyway, I have to get over this !!! Well…. well…. well….. A blue pill. My shit is bad like really bad. See you in psychiatric ward bad. Damn that was close. Anyway back to reality. Being in the bunkered down with thoughts of anxiety sucks and it’s scary. (Wait aren’t vacations supposed to be fun?) 

Well golly this little blue pill sure is amazing. Makes all the static go away no more anxiety, joy!!! 

Looks like you forgot. If you swing the see saw one way the other way moves too. Do you have emotion anymore? Is it worth it for emotions or live a life of a zombie. Shit, I’m just tired all… need a nap. Get me to bed. Oh shit I’m here at my holiday. Oh no am I going to die??? Fight, fight, no. Tornado too strong, blue rain time. Is this worth it? Should I end it?

Is that why there’s an accordion at the end. (Resolve it/ no fuck it/ well did I ? )

Lyrics

Xanax holiday 

Slipped away 
My yesterday 

A happy treat 
From stark retreats 

A saddened play 
With brighter days 

A cardboard seat
With sadder treats 

Cause we’re not going down
Drugs is all we need 
And blue is all we know
And life is all that’s gone 

A blast away 
From yesterday 

A battered whore
Looking for that score

A sudden glaze
A saddened blaze

Porkpie feet
With Concrete teeth

Cause we’re not going down
Drugs is all we need 
And blue is all we know
And life is all that’s gone

Xanax Holiday

Run away

Well shit this one came to me in a weird way. I met some Young Ukrainian dude. 

Cool Guy. (?Maybe… war kinda ages you?) Told me a story about how he had to hide from bombs for 2 days. 
Tad bit socially awkward. 
Also drank way too much. Chill out on those pilsners guy

More of a computer programmer/gamer/twitch viewer that only goes to bars to look at boobies 
Not actually interact. 

And with that you get this song

Cocaine is a hell of a drug isn’t it.

Except when it’s not being done by a cool funk artist. 
Just some Wall Street finance dude trying to keep that dow jones high.

 Guy was having such a great time. Even saw him do some lines off tits. 

Also saw you crying in the bathroom.

Closing the toilet door doesn’t silence 

Also your not happy your dishonest

Cocaine Paradise

Grow Up

2 Lives

Greeting Card Goodbye

All The Days

I wrote this in Montauk while working as a lifeguard at hither hills  beach. I had converted my trailer into a music studio and started writing—just letting the feelings come out without trying to overthink or conceptualize them. I was feeling frustrated.

You see, Montauk used to be just a fishing village—a quiet town, not unlike any other suburb in America. In the summer, the people who came were mostly hardworking families looking for a way to unwind, often with little wealth. Or they were fishermen, coming down in search of a pot of gills then having a beer at the end of the day. Some were surfers or nature lovers, just trying to connect with the Earth’s energy and ride her waves. But that wouldn’t last.

Lurking in the background—like a shadow born of greed—was the Hamptons. With their corporate mindsets and lump sums of money. Eventually, that virus would come.

The first thing it infected was a place called The Surf Lodge. It wasn’t called that back then. It was just a restaurant—a real dump, honestly—but it had soul. The people working there were middle class, just doing their best.

When The Surf Lodge set up shop, it showed that the Hamptons mindset could actually work in Montauk. It brought in flashy money, flashy people, and flashy fakeness. And soon enough, those with the power to buy saw that this corporate Hamptons philosophy could be profitable here. Little by little, the small mom-and-pop shops started to disappear—bought out by ultra-rich old money that knew how to lure people in with shiny treats.

Everyone wanted a slice of the beautiful coin-bread.

Sure, riches were obtained. But the character and soul of the people—the heart of the community—started fading, one person at a time.

And with all that happening, I tried to go deeper. Why were people doing this? Why ruin a community? Why bring in people who were, essentially, carpetbaggers?

I tried to examine the root of the problem—the way people think, with consumerism and capitalism as the underlying themes. These songs deal with that.

6_Surf Lodge_master v2_2496_MBDW062525

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I arise from the RV
A Phoenix stomping on the ashes of the past

I find Kindred spirits 
Collective shamans uniting finding the truth

I document the Journey 
All of it's failures and beauties

Run

Language Games