"Coming to Terms With the Freefall [Instrumental]" - Think Tank

What do you get when you cross a man with a sinking ship?
...I can't remember... the punchline was great, though... shit, um..

"Worry" - Think Tank

Guitar sample provided by Theotheoretic. Thanks, man.

"Wait in the Water" - Think Tank

A drink is never as strong as a word is.

Mike Braley on guitar, what a cool guy.

"Success Story" - Think Tank

Thanks again to BennieCrocker for the art, you already know.

TRIRATNA

{VERSE 1}
Views of the bruises of the browbeat, I look
around me and the whole world seems to have started without me.
Hues of the blues and the violets, now every
moment constitutes a new silence. /
Sold souls just to purchase a lantern. Cold,
frozen old modems ping the surface of Saturn.
Dioxyribonucleic that's grown adjacent to the
patient and the doctor starts to harbour a pattern.

{HOOK}
Love, money, thirst, make the tree rot now.
They were here first, make the triratna.
Blood-hungry words chop the tree right down.
If you're the last to leave, then turn the lights out.

{VERSE 2}
Water splayed upon the face of the stone. Just
because you chose to stay, not every place is a home. Not every
battle's a war, but every war is an outrage - new
orders arent simply met; accepted, about-face. The /
planet has to manage though it's damaged and flawed, but when the
bombs stop landing you think the handless applaud? You think the
bandaged manage to cast all their bandages off? Damn...
we're scrambling to be as bad as we thought. /

{HOOK}
Love, money, thirst, make the tree rot now.
They were here first, make the triratna.
Blood-hungry words chop the tree right down.
If you're the last to leave, then turn the lights out.


                       {Th!N(k_T)@Nk}

"Triratna" - Think Tank

Thanks to @BennieCrocker for the art

Goblins, ghosts, Nosfetaru
Sometimes I wish I had friends to talk to

*TREMBLE, SAPIENS
I HAVE CLIMBED THROUGH EONS OF GALACTIC ENTROPY
USING THE PORES OF FROZEN NEBULA AS FOOTHOLDS
TO ACT AS HARBINGER OF A WINTER UNBEKNOWNST 
TO THE NAIVETY OF TIME*

Halfa rappers whacker than grandmas crackin' tabs of the Adivan
Draggin' ass and plastered, decals, back of the minivan
"Sociopathics" - gone bat-shit at playdates with
eyes glassier than tracks with Kode 9 and Spaceape /
Stackin' bands like it's Jenga with the high stakes
Black snakes writhing in the back of the mindstate
Call a funhouse mirror a blind date, and love their
early shit so much they masturbate to their Myspace /
...I could afford to be rude more; I've hashed pacts
with the flabbiest Santas to flabberghast a food court
Nine-volt, bruised, and screwin' up blues chords with
goofs so true that you could use 'em as a news source /
Pumped from thunder-chucking dummies into a dunk tank
Punches stay the same, but homey peep how the lumps change
Uncontrollable offa controlled substance - I'm
drunk, but everything but a punk bitch. What's up kids. /

Spoken like the true King of the Liches
I'm turning fire into ice for you bitches
I am the end and I'm here for you
You can tell me anything

Dummies slummin' in Vermilion City, they know I'm
ghost, and they just ain't got the scope to silph with me
Bitch, convince me nihilism's childish, I'm kickin'
pigeons in the park to give you starters to smile with. /
Spring chickens are spittin' shit, and then flinching when their
rhythm seems to stick 'em with green beans and a biscuit.
...I've never been the type to blur down the vision, but work
around astigmatisms you dipshits. /
Save the whales? Nah, fuck an endangered species. Stay
all about the "mee-mees" and DVD 3Ds.
Take three of these and text some ha-ha's and he-he's to
B-feature creeps complete with khakis and DCs. /
I ain't leaving this god damn room 'til there's a
metal detector in every motherfucking Chuck-E-Cheese, and
every emo cult leader brandishing the cutlery has
stuck a nine-to-five and had enough of me. Fuck with me. /

Spoken like the true King of the Liches
I'm turning fire into ice for you bitches
I am the end and I'm here for you
You can tell me anything

*HEED
PRAY IF YOU MUST
THE SERPENTINE PROVERBS WRITHING FOR FREEDOM FROM MY JAWS
RATTLE THEIR BONES WITH A CADENCE ONLY HEARD IN THE AGES PREDATING FERVOR
I HAVE CRUSHED PEBBLES WEIGHTIER THAN THE PANTHEONS
OF THE GODS OF YOUR FOREFATHERS
BEHOLD, AN ERA OF - *

Th!N(k_T)@Nk

"Lich King" - Think Tank

Carl Saggin'

Cryin' Reynolds

Jeff Lepard

KING OF THE TREE STUMPS
(Music and Production - William Linden)
(Lyrics and Vocals - Think Tank)

Catapulted from the gallows, unabashed
braggadocios and "homey know me though"s get heavy, I stay buoyant.
Fell upon a bed of petals and rested surrounded
by heavy metals, Yung Polio late to said appointment. /
General strike, we get you in the head with
ephemeral might. The reticle might clip the legs up on your
medical bike. We'll never protect you better than all the
chemicals might (it's been a helluva night). /
It's been a hell of a night, but death by fire is purer than death by
firing squad - that's just a hell of a nod.
I've got a head full of rocks, I've got a shell for a body. I ramble
on and they tend to ramble oddly, you got me?/

Now I'll never be king of anything.
I can't feel my legs, I can't even get my feet.
Stannis Baratheon in this bitch,
king of the tree stumps.

"King of the Tree Stumps (ft. Think Tank)" - PAL

THE BUTCHER
(Music and Production - William Linden)
(Lyrics and Vocals - Think Tank)

The seasons have been good to you - they've toned up your weakness.
My shadow catches length; I've got the strength of the sleepless.
Fingers like razor tips, I point - it gets dangerous. You're
soft as origami, now let's see how folded paper rips.
This is overkill... I'm bringing blades to a dog fight.
I'm getting way harder to persuade in front of fog lights. It's like
colliding is just a fashion of meeting, and dying is just 
a way of convincing yourself that you lived here once.

Another day, and I'm finna jump into the street
It's like the butcher's afraid to cut into the meat
It's like the butcher's afraid to cut into the meat
(I need new and creative ways of staying on my feet)

I don't know whose boat this is, but it's sinking steady.
I think the first mate's dead, and the captain's been drinking heavy.
Eyes like leviathans, star signs and Vivarin,
combing the depths, yeah, I guess it's that time again.
Hundreds on counters, uppers for downers,
grab something floating if you ain't 'bout drowning. It's like
rhyming is just finding new ways of repeating yourself, and
rhyming is just finding new ways of... yeah, you get it.

Another day, and I'm finna jump into the street
It's like the butcher's afraid to cut into the meat
It's like the butcher's afraid to cut into the meat
(I've resorted to truly amazing ways of remaining incomplete)

JUDITH DROSTER's Album

"The Butcher (ft. Think Tank)" - PAL

Produced by William Linden / Lyrics and Vocals by Think Tank (2019)

BANDERSNATCH

The ghosts are outside of the door see, 
I know this is true 'cuz I speak to them
Rarely, but soon more and more, and eventually
I started feeding them
Scraps from the table at first see,
I guess I just took to the company
Maybe for better or worse I just liked something
that didn't run from me
Invited to sit by my fire, I soon learned
that they were not after that
Now I'm sitting table to table with
Jabberwockies and the Bandersnatch - look...
Last we could feel our fingers we couldn't
remember the texture of skin
that was not so condemned to the breadth of our bones
in the light near transparent, dust-ridden, and thin
Now we sit in the cellar and stare at each other,
and no one remembers our names
We walk through the woods, leave no tracks where we're going,
and leave no more from where we came
And now we suck pills and eat stones,
and the candles all light on their own
We know it'll never stop snowing - 
At least we're snowed into our home

Come and find me
Come out and find me

"Bandersnatch (ft. Think Tank)" - PAL

MELANCHOLIA
3/29/2020
Lyrics, vocals and production: Think Tank (@goddammitethan)
Guitar: Michael Braley (@pullingshapesmadison)

Lyrics:

MELANCHOLIA

{VERSE 1}
Who died and made you god? Who stitched up the
fates with silver wire, and made you godly?
Who knit this steel to your body? How do you
face the thousand faces of the ancients calmly?
Which turns in your sleep haunt you? which turns
in their sleep make them feel like someone you belong to?
Wrists burn that I hold onto; which burn,
wispy and gold, was the burn that lost you? Did
whiskey and poems exalt you? Did spending time
writing down your life give your pen its ink back? Did
zoning out to screens bring all your worn out things back? Did
thrown out dreams bring all the thrown out kings back?
When did you commit to rip the books up? When did you
bend the rules, pretend not to be pretty when you look up? And
when did you start looking for beatings when you look down?
Tell-tale heart so hard the building shook down.
Did you learn to hate yourself at once, or in pieces
tucked inside the creases of the sleepless evenings?
Did you learn to love yourself, or the armor? Hug your
self when you found out where the holes for the arms were?
Did you wave back to the faces in the harbour? Did those
faces make you push off harder? Did you
break down, surrounded by a sea of salt water, or were you
stronger than your father's daughter? 
Did you learn your...

{HOOK}
...Silvers and grays from the blades that the metals make.
Turquoises from the noises in the hedge maze.
Green behind the ears. Fears behind the yellow tape.
Black sky. Blue skin.
Red lake.
(x2)

{VERSE 2}
Who left you under that stone? Who purposely
left you in the dirt so long that you grew earthly?
Did my birthing you birth me? Uroborous
creature, hands shaking like a seizure as a courtesy. Did
going diurnal miss the worst of me? Nocturnal
lines in the sand, still clearly so serpentine.
Did you find that if you slithered away, evading
smoke signals, you could joke a little about my pleurisy?
Are you scared of hurting me? Does it hurt you - to
choke back lies more than coughing up virtue? Are
throat-black skies home enough to deserve you? Are
soaked slacked ties the only ties you can turn to?
I hear emergencies crackle within your rainstorms.
Tectonic uncertainties are breaking up your wave forms.
So should I go with what I feel, or what shakes me?
Which oscillations take me with you and save me?
Or, did you learn to leave humanity behind you? Keep
family in folders just for someone to write to?
Did you learn to finally face it, with ten years of
love letters, reduced to clutter, smothering the basement?
Did you pray with only faith you could barter, or did you
sacrifice grace for the name that your art spurred?
Hold hands high enough to make them look larger? Or were they
smaller than your mother's daughter's?
Did you learn your...

{HOOK}
...Silvers and grays from the blades that the metals make.
Turquoises from the noises in the hedge maze.
Green behind the ears. Fears behind the yellow tape.
Black sky. Blue skin.
Red lake.
(x2)


                     {Th!N(k_T)@Nk}

"Melancholia" - Think Tank

WAITING
Vocals, beat, and production: Think Tank
Piano: @pullingshapesmadison
Additional vocals: @itsalilchile, @maintainthemysteryy
Vocals recorded by @iamzyeyoung at @thelabatkatora

LYRICS:

No, you know what?...
Stop treating me like the table that won't leave
when the lights have all come on and it's time to stack up the seats
Ordering every little thing on the menu
You wouldn't hit the dish water to your father, so why someone you're a friend to?/
I know you're burdened with your bags and your buckets
Some are dirty, some are just some that you're stuck with
Going through the blankets that were left in the rummage to try and find something
to wrap the closing shifts in and cuddle with
I feel that/
I'm no stranger to late nights
and free water from the tap for the stage fright
I promise that I wasn't just trying to kiss the salt off your lips
and half the dollar bills I made I tried to hide in your tips/
I made the attempt to speak for my supper to stay fed
Often times, that leaves me with old coffee and stale bread
I tell myself that's just a sandwich in training with a cold brew
and think about the next time that I get to hold you/
But could I possibly mop up the cacophony of fuck-ups that ring like
bells of order ups that will never get bused
I didn't mean to fall asleep at the table where we met
But I don't deserve this much regret or half that look of disgust/
The cup is always totally full, but sometimes one half is air
and the other half's a stupid fucking hypothetical
You sit tight and commit to neon lights
but never has having a dollar made you feel like such a decimal/
How many coffees after close would it take
to do my best at making sure you never grow tired of me?
How many of your despotic old bosses do I have to beat back
until you finally feel you're fired and you're free?/
Will these floors ever get clean? 
Or are your glasses too fogged up from all the sweat and the steam?
Do you only feel safe when there's a knot in your apron
or can I quit taking your fucking order and fucking say what I mean?/

"Waiting" - Think Tank

Official Button Poetry 2020 Video Contest submission
Poem and Vocals by Think Tank
Music and sound engineering by Azul at The Lab at Katora

Think Tank

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