Portugal. The Man - Purple Yellow Red and Blue ("Porpoise Yelling Really Bad" Monster Bemix)

-Forward – No Breakfast ft. C. Lines & Monster Belly (Bonus Track)

Snare Drum, MIDI Cello, Piano & Bass by Theodore Sweeney
Chorus Vocals, Aux. Percussion & Aux. Piano by James Blanchard
Featuring Christopher Lyons & James Blanchard
Written by Christopher Lyons & James Blanchard
Album Art by James Blanchard

ALBUM: ESOTERICULTURE

LYRICS:
C. LINES: I believe there’s more fish swimmin’ in the sea, but why’s it only bitches that I meet? Kickin’ rocks as I’m walkin’ down the street, got my hands in my pockets and my eyes to the sky. Smokin’ bowls, watchin’ days pass by, fuck that, time to get off my ass so I can fly. When I rhyme, I’m fillin’ deserts up with life, just a regular dude, another star up in the night.  But he shines when he writes, he’s emittin’ all this light, Emmitt Smith n’ shit tonight, getting’ props like Carrot Top, makin’ moves like Barry Sanders, shake you out your fuckin’ socks, leave you layin’ in shock, cause I blew out both your knees without you even touchin’ me. Slick like some grease, you should listen when I speak. I’m a new disease, sick and unknown spreadin’ through the world with ease………….fuck.

(Life is weight,
Life is waiting,
Life is weight,
Life is waiting for you).

MONSTER BELLY: Beautiful, but tragic, has this magic gone flaccid, and haven’t we had enough acid? Seen, what you needed to see, how, can you speak if you’re strugglin’ ta breathe. Just jugglin’ belief with truth and a chainsaw, I’m stuck between, soothing and pained paws. Clawin’ at the kitchen door trying to get a bite, lost in the sin lookin’ for a proper fight. Light the fuse, step away and let it flow. Alone on the court, trying to give n’ go. Slow motion, holdin’, jokin’, spoke it, wrote it or imagined, goin’ too slow and it’s makin’ me bat shit, insane, this game, which we play, digs graves, gives shame, and we stay stuck playin’ a fucked up tune sayin’ soon, we’ll do everything we need to get through.

(Life is weight,
Life is waiting,
Life is weight,
Life is waiting for you).

C. LINES: I clear up cloudy days. I rip a bong and I blow these clouds away, I’m blowin’ clowns away. When they step up to the plate like a Randy Johnson heater, that shit is steamin’, it’s hard to hit a ball that you’re not even seein’. I got the grand prize in my vision, I’m on a mission n’ it’s my turn to be hittin’. knock it out the park, fireworks get sparked, leavin’ suckers sulkin’ in the dark. Then I turn into the Hulk and I rip ‘em all apart, I’m on point like the head of hair on Bart. It’s simple son, I been fresh from the start and my rhymes are so heavy, so you better get ready, I’m droppin’ Iron Man, like I just beat up Tony Stark. Now I’m, sittin’, waitin’ for some beers to pound, when it comes to burnin’ grass I’m always down like the ground so I light up, drop this weight to hear these beautiful sounds.

(Life is weight,
Life is waiting,
Life is weight,
Life is waiting for you).

MONSTER BELLY: You know we try, to rely on livin’ but, we decry everything that we’re givin’. Isn’t it a shame that fame and fortune, is a game we play like that shit’s important. Boarded off from actual divine truth. Livin’ on sordid factual affairs and lyin’ to your own mind. Go find an ounce of truth, or hide n’ lie, about your wasted youth. The wrong path and even worse intentions, well, you’ve gone bad with that cursed, worse guessin’. Lessen the tension that your self-afflicted with, and not to mention that “well-can’t-give-a-shit” attitude. Haven’t you had to prove yourself to you, well gratitude might help you move through. Rise up, thank yourself n’ ask, did you try to chase your dreams or just let them pass.

(Life is weight,
Life is waiting,
Life is weight,
Life is waiting for you).


11. Forward - No Breakfast Ft. C.Lines & MOnster BElly (Bonus Track)

-Collective Consciousness ft. Edge, D. Mills, Al Son & Mark Swakow (Bonus Track)

Vocals (in order) by Edgar Pacheco, Daniel Mills & Alison Blanchard
Bass Guitar by Mark Swakow
Percussion, MIDI Guitar and Aux. Guitar by James Blanchard
Samples Brian Hirschauer & Raymond Weisler
Album Art by James Blanchard

ALBUM: ESOTERICULTURE

LYRICS:
EDGE: This is page one, story of my life. Born into the game but I didn’t roll the dice. Look at me, another pawn of democracy, tellin’ me who I should be. Go to work from nine to five, make a check, expect to survive. Get married, have kids, do shit n’ die. Beautiful dream, but it’s all a lie. (Bitch).

D. MILLS: Well it feels like every time, that I try to bust a rhyme, my mind says yes, my mouth says no, but I gotta let it go. Drop to the fuckin floor, fuck it, I ain’t keepin’ score, fuck it, I ain’t keepin’ score. Be chillin’ yo, fur real n’ don’t be killin’ out that dro. U-town’s got that funky flow, make it rain n' let it snow. While this beats incomplete, it’ll make you move your feet, it’ll get you out your seat, it’ll have you sayin’ neat! This has been a real treat! Cut that shit, we ain’t playin’ with the beats that we’re layin’. I’m just sayin’ that we’re slayin’ cause our goal is now complete. We’re just strollin’ down the street. Russian, like we must be recruitin, crushin’ like a Russian, like Putin. Sayin’ that we’re slayin’, rollin’ down the street. Russian, like we must be recruitin, crushin’ like a Russian, like Putin. Like Putin.

AL SON: Hey guys did you hear about Chris? He’s catering now and he’ll handle your bris. Little sandwiches, popcorns and jelly rolls, and he’ll keep every ones’ cup full of Saporro. Man, what a go-getter, he’ll suck the days’ dick and then he'll make you call him Shredder. Feelin’ like every one’s part of that small business clique, and all I do is draw a bunch of dicks. Give me a gallon of fireball, a pack of camel blue, oh, and do me a favor and fuck off cause this first shot’s fur Lu. Hey guys, did you hear about Chris?


10. Collective Consciousness Ft. Edge, D.Mills, Al Son & Mark Swakow (Bonus Track)

-At The Puerto Rican Border

Vocals & MIDI organ by James Blanchard
Samples La Borinqueña by Manuel Fernàndez Juncos & Felix Astol Artès or Francisco Ramirez Ortiz (depending on what you believe).
Album Art by Theodore Joseph Sweeney

ALBUM: ESOTERICULTURE

LYRICS:
It’s shitty the way, I feel in this state, while getting away from the real elation.
Creation isn’t fair, they didn’t tell us how to live, they just told us where, this shit fell unto us the way they must fold into pairs.
It comes on every hair and follicle of life, while we shun everywhere n’ stall on arrival.
Contrive tolls that sigh for whole, entire, ever last while we tire from the past, the liar has to last if the fire pasts to ashes.
It cashes, out like a casino, twenty lashes for bingo, if he passes on me I’ll be fast and just swing low.
The sink flow don’t stop like an ink hole, spoutin’ off the top like a leak goes, I seek flows that go in a way you can’t see or show, just flee or know, that things do go the way I want, it’s my dojo.
Your slow like a slo-mo stuck up a nose, I’ll fuck up like drunken Shakespeare prose. 
A fake leer peerin’ out my jungle bungalow, for god sakes I’m searin’ now, let’s not take to fleeting hows.
I’ll milk a cow around a flounder till the silk spouts out n’ all abound her, I’m not cummin’ yet, take the clicks off your counter till the hicks yell, “motherfucker mount her!”
Astound persons, till your hurtin’, several guards tryin’ some lurkin’, I’m assertin’ many things of the earth n’ I’m spurtin’ n’ squirtin’ outta my mouth, pussy, skirt n’ dress to impress fore your left in duress at the caress of a demons’ family crest.
It’s a sham so leave to the left, I can slam more than before, you better leave the rest, I conceive in a drawer wetter than twenty rain forests and I’ll leave faster than severin’ umbilical cords.
It’s a willful report, this shit’s killin’ me more, than slaughterin’ children on the killin’ floor.
You’re flauntin’ and millin’, spillin’ out your pores, I’ll shout off your doors till nothin’s left like the woman you used to adore. Abused n' un-cored like that which an apple once stored.
It happens to pour like some soup de jour, it’s a cool way for shore but this path’s twistin’ like words gone wayward. 
Be sure to pay it forward like givin’ up a quarter to say the word toward, I’m livin’ enough fur my life to be shorter than a knife that’s been quartered.
This strife has been ordered to demolish your god and your sorter, it’s fod for a porter, deliverin’ mortars, shootin’ hoarders at the Puerto Rican border.


9. At The Puerto Rican Border

-Cielo P. Infierno

Vocals, Back-up Vocals, Vocal Oh’s & Ah’s, Percussion, Electric & Bass Guitar, MIDI Piano, Glass Piano & Bass by James Blanchard
Written by James Blanchard
Album Art by Lucas Harvey

ALBUM: ESOTERICULTURE

LYRICS:
Mass destruction erupted, busted out like leaving, somethin’ ta nothin’, your luck’s out, seething, ooze consumes the bright life n’ doom, covers all, and the lightest eyes are ruined. Sight a far cry from seein’, real truth, a light faint decry pleain’ that the roof hold. Hooves cold from trotting through snow, lose control, lose fold, but we’re nodding like we know. Give to me antipathy, ta see through the sleaze, let me internally make the choice I believe. Is it right to fight, to lose, to move the future toward proof, or should we just sit inside, listen, and consume? Forward movement glints and glistens in the sun, but I missed a ship or two learning how to run. Who holds the cards, and can we get ‘em? I don’t know, who plays your part? Devils, if you let ‘em. So go rise up or descend, ear to possibility, die or reach the end, whichever probability, ability allows, choose the way you move and how, you get through this trip, and how you get out. Illness, pills n’ shit won’t kill, spill this “you” out and pick up what you will. Escape the mind trap and grasp at substance, or drown in monotony, followin’ dumb shit.

Spawned from the soup, a purgatory story, lost in a loop like pimpin’ and whoring. Boring, to live life by the rules, so I set out to score meaning, from the gruel. Carbon copy, monotony slaves, givin' into sin for minimum wage. Is it the day n' age or shame that puts us right into our place? Aimless, shameless, abated fools, lookin’ for the answer in the neighbors’ pool. Shake this, wasted, vision of life, or die perplexed, and wrought with strife. Bought this knife ta spear tip and hear this, but all I got was jaundice and weird piss. Now who’s gonna pay them medical bills, yeah, who’s gonna buy me them testicle pills? Kill ya self and spill the wealth around or take a minute to get secure to the ground. Out of your mind, insane and alive? That’s a good start but now you gotta climb. Find a high perch, cause they will snipe ya, lie in wait perched, till the devils light you, up like its Christmas, don’t get in this, for the wrong reason cause easy it isn’t. And now I’m liftin’ sifted sands for time, hourglass, go back, re-write the rhymes. But I can’t see the signs and I don’t know why, this town is forever just like these lines in my face replacin’, youthful states, I’m erased n’ tracin’ from a template. Great holy ghost, show me those that know, oh, no such thing? Then on with the show, whole lives lived, dived into murky waters, contrive sin, still swim, it gets hotter. Boil, foil, toil, spoil, bubble and trouble while the whole damn world turns into rubble. Subtle distraction from actual fact, I’m lookin’ for some traction ta take it back. Snap outta this abysmal ditch and get a stitch goin’, form a fist, punch shit and keep flowin’. Goin’ for the gold, holdin’ no man higher, great till the day I’m dead, or retired. Inspired they’ll be, tire to street, if you get movement my task is complete. Defeat the old you, sold you on losin’, see the cold through, get your body movin’. Use this view in a manner to propel, as you get past this prison, this hell.

(Lookin’ for the answer, end of the line, goddamned if I find the time, I don’t know, why I’m livin’ this life.  
Lookin’ for the answer, end of the line, goddamned if I find the time, I don’t know, why we’re livin’ this life)......

FULL LYRICS HERE: https://monsterbelly.bandcamp.com/releases

8. Cielo P. Infierno

-Pizza Cat Dough

Percussion by Christopher Lyons & James Blanchard
Electric Guitar by Joey Gordillo
Vocals, MIDI Bass, Pizzi Strings, Cello, Horns & Lute by James Blanchard
Written by James Blanchard
Album Art by Sean Radcliff

ALBUM: ESOTERICULTURE

LYRICS:
Welcome to the world, hurled, like a comet, your welcome to unfurl curls with no homage, to a god ta please, an odyssey, you wanna bleed for mere belief? 
Be my guest and be restless like where’s the beef and chicken breast it’s, on the grill, spill, like a child while wondering, why they kill for bills like pirates to the plundering, asunder we, blunder, speak, like a lubber freak, under weak, utterings, if the lumber’s cheap, then why try to grab a chance to think.
Meek, and wrong, songs sung, defeat the throng, wrong tongue, that your singin’ in, your bringin’ in, everything that leaves us with, defeat n’ sin, we need our kin, to ban together champion-ship, set sail, bailed, on the truth, loose cannon you abandon every trail intuition proved.
Lose your mind, asylum, ta find what you deny, run, faster to instead of from, the fear to use, to tread and come, to a point like a pyramid, lift and shift the sands to get, to the core, pour out the cancer, explore the hoard and find the master. Faster past your prime, time runnin’ hourglass, can’t, last or stand sublime lookin’ at our past.
Grab a seat for the feast, peek at the main course, high horse with a side of humble slave pie poured, on the masses, ask his, majesty ta see these, peasants plea, pleasantly, for a measure of mercy.
Heard me shriek out, a meek shout, beggin’ for some truth, can’t keep out the sleek doubt, holdin’ tongue ta tooth.
Fine furred, lyin’ herds of sheep sleep well, tell no tales, fail at substance swelled, with blind belief, behind unique, facades, that keep the truth from a leak, does this life seem odd?
god damn, and shame, and plague and save, but what do you do for you besides lie and blame?
A violent flame contained inside, try to abide by lies and get your soul fried. Stand on sidelines, grab a passerby, lifestyle worthwhile, if you’re just livin’ ta die.
Livid rising, passion, ta search, scratch, survive, is it askin’, too much to, thrive alive, lookin’ for more, than mere myth, explore your core and hear it, flourish and spear tip, stab for secure grip.
Out ta pasture, had your fair share of grazin’, outlast your past for a scare paired with matin’.
Human life, consume and die, exhume decry, lose your mind, pacify n’ grab the ride, shake, defy n’ find the lies. Cows shoutin’ udderances, mooin’ for escape, a louse bout n’ shudderin’ this shell of a cape.
Take from steaks and claims what you will, fire, aim, save yourself from retired shame that kills.
Spilled out this world, hurled, like monkey feces, and what’s a girl worth of a different species?
Geez we, please these, specters like we need, belief bequeathed into our weak, fear-filled minds before we speak.
Dissolve solvents, absorb with skeptic candor, solve all the adverbs, eclectic man fur, grab your, best toupee, state arrested shade as your next of kin, abide, abate, hold the table, take a plate.
Make it count, hound for truth, shake it out, hounds tooth, stylish, wild shit, grab a beast and make it quip, tag the yeast, the bread will sit, lag n’ cease, dead ta tits, tights, rights, center stage, chronophage, enter fright.
Fight, with your demons, seems it’s, comin’ to a close, hold the pose, show your true skin, apropos.  
Whole lives lived, dive in, shoot the moon with slight wit, contrive sin from aligned whim, lookin’ for enticed swim-team tag, the streams bad, fish float n’ teem back, to all creation fall to take in breakin’ signs of life.
Sleight, of hand, has us branded as human tripe, lightin’ flames with water and cookin’ with fumin’ pipes.


7. Pizza Cat Dough

-Robotic Apocalypse

Electric Guitar & Electric Guitar turned bass by Joey Gordillo
Vocals, Percussion & MIDI Sound FX turned instrument by James Blanchard
Written by James Blanchard
Album Art Jacquelyn Lyons

ALBUM: ESOTERICULTURE

LYRICS:
Never heard me rap like this, the magic hat and rabbit shit. Now you got the clap like piss, burnin’, grabbin’ at your shit, 
Envious, and then it gets, effortless, I transcend and lift, bend and twist my words so quick you ask if this is jesus, 
christ I got no time, broke clocks, die if I spoke lies, thrown rocks, glass house, ass out, bad mouth, fast trout, fight my flow until I’m out the river, quiver, at ma skills, gotta go quicker to pay them bills, they say it kills like a coffin filled, but I say it’s milk like often spilled.
Ain’t no need to cry, dry your eyes like tissued sighs. Ain’t it like life ta die, pacified you’ll still pass by and on, dawn to death or spawn, fawn, to last breath, who would’ve guessed, you’d played and pressed, way too close to chest like a nipple, triple, simple luck, is simply to not give a fuck, life happens grab it tight while the getting’s good, should we,
Understand the master plan, apprehend n’ last or stand, longer in this life or should we just remain a strand, of a, 
Puzzle piece, with dumb belief, runnin’ things and wondering, what we need and how to see, and where to find our god ta please?
Fuck that, dumb cat, mute puss. Luck has, ran fast, you should, count your chickens as they’re birthed, or shout n’ listen, as you thirst, for a deserts worth, a measure sure, but enough to make that pussy purr?
I’ll try to curb, my spoken word, but I make no promises you heard, what I said and I see, same damn thing surprisingly, cause I spy n’ see hypocrisy, everywhere like fallen leaves in autumn, sought ‘em, the truths of life, and hit rock bottom like hittin’ wives, it’s sad and wrong, but that’s the song that life be singin’ all day long.
And I flock ta flames, like frivolous fame, isn’t it a shame, we came so far, remained the same. 
Like the song and the dance, chances were we’d be romanced, by advancements, like fire, it’s tragic we’re still mired, as we’re, glued to a screen like epoxy on these, atrocities, who would believe we’d want these, lives that we lead?
We would, we do, we should see through, all the lies we tell ourselves to, kill the pain, it’s still the same, our lives get sick and get deranged.
Arrange ourselves as one or die, in vain, insane and fail to fly.
Tame ourselves enough to think, or see the poison and take a drink.
Placated, vacated, lost voids. Amazed I’m sated enough to enjoy, the ride of life, fly or die, live n’ try or fake n’ vie, for the attention, no reason, no retention, empty pleasin’. Sneezin’ out your soul ta bleed, jesus shout if you hear me please!
No response? Guess your good and I guess you got, other things that your covering, it must be human blundering on my part, start talkin’, walkin’ without that limp, let’s get quick through this trip, admit, we don’t know shit.
Just guesses stressin’ every part of us messin’, lessen tension and fend with, what you know you can fence with.
Like a fancy man, ivy league, college plan, why we need, all this grand-iose movement and spam. Explore the core, find an answer, pour it forward, see the cancer. Battered, bruised and lose sight fighting, better move, that noose keeps tightenin’, round ya neck, asphyxiation, found a speck, so start creation, fakin’, makin’ up as you go, slow matin’, inspiration hold,

FULL LYRICS HERE: https://monsterbelly.bandcamp.com/releases

6. Robotic Apocalypse

-Steak Monkey Knife Nips

Vocals, Percussion, MIDI Bass, Strings & Synth Strings by James Blanchard
Samples Layla Leigh by Alison Blanchard
Written by James Blanchard
Album Art by Alison Blanchard

ALBUM: ESOTERICULTURE

LYRICS:
(Take aim straight to bleed in the streets, while belief seeds a real neat and tidy, meek and flighty, diseased enlightening. Frightening, the tightening, light that brings, new sight and scenes. A delightful dream that might just scream for a buck or a dollop of cream. Seams split, as the fiends equipt, a stream of stripped, dipped dyed, quick eyed, listless tries, to impress the next best strippers' thighs). 

Never heard me rap like this, the rabbit, hat and magic tricks. Now you got the clap like piss, burnin’, grabbin’ at your shit, 
Envious, and then it gets, effortless, I transcend and lift, bend and twist my words so quick you ask if this is jesus, 
christ I got no time, broke clocks, die if I spoke lies, thrown rocks, glass house, ass out, bad mouth, fast trout, fight my flow until I’m out the river, quiver, at ma skills, gotta go quicker to pay them bills, they say it kills like a coffin filled, but I say it’s milk like often spilled. 
Ain’t no need to cry, dry your eyes like tissued sighs. Ain’t it like life to die, pacified you’ll still pass by and on, dawn to death or spawn, fawn, to last breath, who would’ve guessed, you’d played and pressed, way too close to chest like a nipple, triple, simple luck, is simply to not give a fuck, life happens grab it tight while the getting’s good, should we, 
Understand the master plan, apprehend n’ last or stand, longer in this life or should we just remain a strand, of a, 
Puzzle piece, with dumb belief, runnin’ things and wondering, what we need and how to see, and where to find our god to please? 
Fuck that, dumb cat, mute puss. Luck has, ran fast, you should, count your chickens as they’re birthed, or shout n’ listen, as you thirst, for a deserts worth, a measure sure, but enough to make that pussy purr? 
I’ll try to curb, my spoken word, but I make no promises you heard, what I said and I see, same damn thing surprisingly, cause I spy n’ see hypocrisy, everywhere like fallen leaves in autumn, sought ‘em, the truths of life, and hit rock bottom like hittin’ wives, it’s sad and wrong, but that’s the song that life be singin’ all day long. 
And I flock ta flames, like frivolous fame, isn’t it a shame, we came so far, remained the same. 
Like the song and the dance, chances were we’d be romanced, by advancements, like fire, it’s tragic we’re still mired, as we’re, glued to a screen like epoxy on these, atrocities, who would believe we’d want these, lives that we lead? 
We would, we do, we should see through, all the lies we tell ourselves to, kill the pain, it’s still the same, our lives get sick and get deranged. 
Arrange ourselves as one or die, in vain, insane and fail to fly. 
Tame ourselves enough to think, or see the poison and take a drink. 
Placated, vacated, lost voids. Amazed I’m sated enough to enjoy, the ride of life, fly or die, live n’ try or fake n’ vie, for the attention, no reason, no retention, empty pleasin’. Sneezin’ out your soul to bleed, jesus shout if you hear me please! 
No response? Guess your good and I guess you got, other things that your covering, it must be human blundering on my part, start talkin’, walkin’ without that limp, let’s get quick through this trip, admit, we don’t know shit. 
Just guesses stressin’ every part of us messin’, lessen tension and fend with, what you know you can fence with. 
Like a fancy man, ivy league, college plan, why we need, all this grand-iose movement and spam. Explore the core, find an answer, pour it forward, see the cancer. Battered, bruised and lose sight fighting, better move, that noose keeps tightenin’, round ya neck, asphyxiation, found a speck, so start creation, fakin’, makin’ up as you go, slow matin’, inspiration hold, 




5. Steak Monkey Knife Nips

-No Breakfast

Vocals, Percussion, MIDI Bass, Lead & Chimes by James Blanchard
Samples from Yogi Bear by Hanna-Barbera, The Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra by Benjamin Britten & Layla Leigh by Alison Blanchard
Written by James Blanchard
Album Art by James Blanchard

ALBUM: ESOTERICULTURE

LYRICS:
(Yeah, No Breakfast)
No breakfast, unless it’s made of ecstasy, hold the milk and cheerios, please, I need to feed the need.
Gotta plant that seed, deep inside of your brain, and while you try to refrain, I'll leave you fried like an egg, for dinner.
We’re winners thinner or thicker, we get her, lick her, stick her, flick her, gettin’ sicker as we get quite simpler, we’re,
Quicker than liquor on a tampon, we stand on, till last bong, now pass on, you're bad wrong, it’s last song.
Pack up your fruity pebbles, jack-off a loosely leveled, shooting medal proving your pedals ain’t even near the metal.
Testin’ the mettle while I, kill till it’s bled full, I spill and then shed whole, landfills full of bled holes.
L’Eggo my eggo or shove it up your fuckin’ ass, shamed ho can’t save no, half, or even quarter glass.
Saul how you look at it, while takin’ hits, no bacon bits, I'll shake this shit, like labes and clits, I lay n’ spit, relayin’ this,
No breakfast message till the moment I’m gone, in a, reckless, guessin’ potion of ocean-like fog.
Unspoken and wrong, but not fur long I’ll get this song to sing, figurin’ out which wrong to bring, slitherin’ out like an odd machine.
Bring your cleanest, meanest version of a penis, to the seamstress, see if she'll tuck, sew it or see it you,
Don’t fuckin’ know shit, believe it, I conceived it, while dreamin’ eyelid widened, turns have tidened, you’ve subsided, I’m
drivin’ alive n’ climbin’ risin trynta, dry out my eyes with smoke while devisin’, a faster master plan at hand and feet, I stamp and creep, I’m landin’ deep, just sampling, the last disease, to have meaning, I got this, 
thing I need to feed inside to strive to stay alive, rhymes concise or wide, lines live through the night.
And binding all the ties that were tied tightly two times, I died slightly who knew why, I tried flight but it flew by.


4. No Breakfast

-Soup Bowls in the Jungle

Electric Guitar, Auxiliary Electric Guitar & Bass Guitar by Nick Humphries
Vocals & Percussion by James Blanchard
Written by James Blanchard
Album Art by Christopher Lyons

ALBUM: ESOTERICULTURE

LYRICS:
Took a minute to get it, this life is livid livin’ in’it? Hell, I don’t know, shit, get in and try to flow.
Hold ya nose, undertow, grab and float, wonder go, stab and hope and ask for no, complicated give n’ go.
Take it, hate it, make it bleed or breathe, I got no time for disbelief or herdin’ sheep pleas,e,
Keep ya mind free and please just remind me, why we tend to move and act so blindly.
So I’m free, but what’s that mean? That I can lively move between the set schemes and nice dreams?
Jeez, us? That isn’t somethin’ we grasp, believe enough falsities and you can’t see past,
Your own self, a lone hell, and what’s honest? It’s a cold cell with no coll-ective conscious-
ness, isn’t life about the union of soul, to another soul, now let’s take control, take hold.

Took a lifetime, to rewind and take it back, to when my mind was fine and intact, in fact, I didn’t grasp at any beliefs, I just moved blindly forward like a grazing sheep.
These times were simpler it seemed but would I, go back to that ignorance bliss dream, I sigh, at the
Thought of it, the cost would get way too high, I’d be, lost and shit, a wrong ass kid, just trynta fly.
But fallin’, callin’ out to a god to save me, crawlin’ and clawin’ with no one there to take me.
Shake these words, from your ears if you must, because the fear must become just a little too much,
to deal with, feel it, the uncertainty, I’m just peelin’, reelin’ for everybody to see.
Losin’ useless , viewless, futile models of faith, yeah, I’m movin’ to use this brain for more than bottles to break.

Took a minute to get in it and now I’m livin’ life, half dead and half spread across the grinding strife.
The blinding lights might ignite and budge your soul free, or hold tight and fight you monetarily.
Bare-uh-ly scrapin’ and, scarcely escapin’, a scare to be hastily workin’ at makin’, a fake life, a weight I, can do without, you can’t say I, pray by, word of mouth.
Takin’ in knowledge like a baby’s brain, makin’ acknowledgements insane, proof in the pudding or proof profane, who’s got the goodies to set this straight?
You bet it’s strange, a bit deranged, a life arranged, in a maze.
Grow to graze and hold the brazen, show your real face, they’ll erase it.
A pitiful party, hardly, a place to be, please, pass the weak appeased masses and their, elastic dreams.
A minute to live, the livid lie tied to tears, trapped inside, grab a ride passerby, this is life.


3. Soup Bowls In The Jungle

-Tuesday Morning Sky Blues

Vocals, Percussion, Keyboard, Electric Guitar, Vocal Oh’s and Ah’s, Bass Guitar & Backup Vocals by James Blanchard
Written by James Blanchard
Album Art by Hannah Tyk

ALBUM: ESOTERICULTURE

LYRICS:
Loosely tied, to the useless lies, boy, I could use a ride, but I cannot lose my spot in line.
I find myself, stuck awaiting, lost, and contemplating why I’m here when I should steer clear, from all the traps that appear.
Fear, is why I’m stagnant, hasn’t that been why I’m magnetized, try to move, but I shoot right back to metal shoes.
I lose movement, and who is, this useless guy? Know I got it in me and I know I gotta give me, a decent chance to try.
Who gives a fuck, why you’re stuck, grab a pen and pad and truck, on and through, ought to do, what you came to do and prove
Spit harder than dolphin cum, get larger than a whale dick, um, a dork fork it, out like a pasta dish, everything acomp-a-lished, what you wanna get, known or anonymous.
Bottomless rhymes, outta this time, not out to get signed, just redefined.
Be the mind that warps the system, see inside and hope somethin’ hits ‘em.
Gives ‘em a jostle and makes ‘em think, outside the box with the kitchen sink, and everything included, nothing diluted, stop the polluted, useless, view less mind.
(I don’t wanna be, the only one. I don’t wanna be, the only one that sees.)
Can’t I, get a moment, as I, try to erode this, erroneous stance, felonious dance, humans take and do that gives us can-sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but them billions of dollars could give food to, 
the whole world, but you’re too greedy, to see, what the needy, need, believe, it’s to feed, without a struggle or a need to bleed, if you leave the greed and plant a seed it’ll grow into generosity.
Honestly, I can’t believe, we hold so high, material things. Materials bring, suffering cause all that matters is human beans,
So sing, this song with me, how we ain’t a real democracy, and sing, this song with me, how our lives are run by hypocrisy we,
Need to live less blinded, even if we are reminded, that change is life and life is hard, rearrange or die like a dog in the yard.
And often we’re far, from where we gotta be, often a star is far from reach but teach your children somethin’ better, than grit your teeth and bare the weather.
It’s fair to sever the ties that lies deride and blind you with, cause, my eyes spy the future and it’s comprised of our kids.
(I don’t wanna be, the only one. I don’t wanna be, the only one that sees) x3

2. Tuesday Morning Sky Blues

Everything from monkey feces to government corruption, life's purpose, not eating breakfast, steak knives, whale genitalia, spilled milk, drunken Shakespeare and everything in-between. This debut album, ESOTERICULTURE by MOnster BElly, has it all and then some. The album is broken into three sections with three songs each, followed by three bonus tracks. The first section is about injustice, government corruption and the harsh realities of life (which is also the main theme of the entire album). Section two is mainly more "gangster" (mad similes and metaphors and "hard shit"). And the third section was to be rhyming for the sake of rhyming, but like I said the theme of the first section carries throughout the album and they all meld together. This album offered me a great opportunity to feature some of my friends and family on many of the tracks, unbeknownst to them and possibly against their wishes. This beautiful union of these musical and creative people made the creation of this album all the more rewarding. A huuuuuge thanks to everyone who participated and supported me, and all of you for listening!! I am extremely happy to present to you, the labor of my love, from my mind hole to your ear holes, ESOTERICULTURE......


-Government Warning

Vocals, Percussion, MIDI Piano, Organ, Guitar, Ambient Soundscape, Flute & Auxiliary Piano by James Blanchard
Written by James Blanchard  
Album Art by Luanne Falkner

LYRICS:
Incomprehensible, inexplicable nonsense, you’d think that kind of evil would weigh too heavy on your conscience. 
Too heavy to carry on, overweight and overbearing, you should be ashamed to carry on, being so fake and never caring. 
Quite daring an attempt you do make to deceive, your words hit so sharp until I’m starting to bleed. 
And bleed? Yeah I might but I’ll bleed and never die, cause it’ll take a lot more to be killed by your lies. 
A lot more than you can handle and far too much for you to conceive, I’m surprised you made it so far because it’s more than you can achieve. 
At least on your own without them tricks up your sleeve, the mastermind behind the puppet, pullin’ the strings. 
You just rape it and leave: the water, the land, take the air that we breathe, most people don’t see, and from those people, you take everything. 
But I rise to the top, yeah that won’t be me, and after these words that I write, if you can read you will see. 
From the land to the trees and the sky to the seas, you’re entitled to it all, like the truth best believe. 
Best take note and remember when I tell you these things, you control what you know, you ARE destiny. 
Don’t be swayed by the money, fake power or glory or you’ll be paid by the devil to try and take power from me. 
That’s power from the people into the hands of evil, that’s the future picture painted if we continue this deep slope. 
This decline will rewind, everything for which we’ve climbed, turning a blind eye, being paralyzed by the fear and lies, we must realize we gotta do more just to get by. 
So get by or get gone otherwise it’s quite likely, you’ll be swayed by men in power, blind men who can nazi. 
And your life will be run while you watch quite helplessly, but don’t sweat it my friend, do not even worry, like a pardon from jail or a lock and a key, the truth is this song, and the truth, will set you free.

1. Government Warning

Metric-Help I'm Alive (MonsterBelly Ruh-micks)

WelLSD (Mexico Revealed)

A.k.a - https://soundcloud.com/goatoflife & https://soundcloud.com/sexymanfamily

From the beginning of my Ableton career to the end of my musical journey or my life, whichever comes first.  This soundcloud starts with terrible mixing and producing and shows my improvement throughout the years.  Music, like anything else, comes from trying things and making mistakes along the way.  Although there are common chord progressions and scales and rules that people do follow, music is anything but order and following the rules.  Some of the greatest music has come from marching to your own tune, no music pun intended.  It all started with Ableton and my computer, now I have an audio interface with a multitude of instruments at my disposal. So as I continue to educate myself, try new and different ways of composing, and make mistakes, take a listen.  And remember the only wrong way to create music is not creating it.

                     -J.B.
           
   "Y'all are partyin' in a Monster's Belly!"

MOnster BElly

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