The Fly On The Window

This song is about life being about the relay and relaying of information, whether it is social, emotional, intellectual, and so forth... 

Our pals Seth Bohn and Kevin Kujawa from Mannequin Men were kind enough to add their own genuine warmth and uniquely awesome touch to the track. Thanks duders! 

Lyrics: 

This song isn’t,
Too complicated. 
Embracing it when, 
The week’s delaying.

To the suspects and,
To the politics.
To the written word,
And retrospect.

We’ll be singing em’ in,
We’ll keep relaying.
We’ll be settling in,
And oscillating. 

This song isn’t,
Too complicated. 
Writing it when,
The week’s been fading.

To the reasoned,
And the able.
To the partners that keep us stable.

We’ll be singing em’ in,
We’ll keep relating.
We’ll be muddling when,
There’s trouble!! 

This song isn’t,
Too complicated. 
Projecting it when,
The shit’s relaying…

Relay feat. Mannequin Men

This song is about the consumption of our society and how it turns us against one another while drawing us closer together. 

Lyrics: 

The Turncoats keep squawking, 
Affixing us with rumors, 
As the sterile play king, 
We blindly sing, "Consume us!" 

And the mills keep churning, 
Hang us up and sift us. 
And the bills keep turning, 
Hang us up and strip us. 

These changes are slight. 
Each breath a brick. 
(It's) a waste to worship wise, 
When prize is precedence. 

And the mills keep churning, 
Hang us up and sift us. 
And the bills keep turning, 
Hang us up and strip us. 

We're not a wrinkle in the page. 
We're gregarious divide. 
We're not a crease to alleviate. 
Veiled or seen we amplify. 

I love you on the weeks end, 
Consumption, is the seas end. 
I love you on the weeks end, 
Consumption, is the seas end... 

Built today on tomorrow, 
Guilt enslaved, debt borrowed. 

Rejection, is better than nothing. 
Conception, is better than owing. 

Time is short and so are people. 
On life support there is no equal. 

(We) built today on tomorrow, 
Debt enslaved, guilt borrowed. 

Take em' away. 

When we work hard it's for the(ir) Money. 
And even harder for their Fear. 

Rejection, is better than nothing. 
Conception, is better than owing. 

Time is short and so are people. 
On life support there is no equal. 

When we work hard it's for the(ir) Money. 
And even harder for their Fear. 

Take em' away.

Turncoats

This song is about the gang violence in Chicago, it touches everyone... 

Lyrics:

I smell the summer, 
And it hints at blood. 
With it’s dim lit orange fuse. 
Graffiti as its buffed. 

This art is a quick sense, 
And the reaction accords. 
With it’s scripted value, 
Amendments that we corrupt… 

I taste the winter, 
And it smacks like fall. 
With it’s charging patient fuse, 
Graffiti as it rolls. 

Heat waves an extinction. 
Crowded sidewalks give way… 
Thrill paved delirium… 
Meaning as it flows. 

Sanguine exsanguination, 
Shoot em, while you got em. 
Sanguine exsanguination… 
BANG BANG, you got em… 

I hear the vernal sense, 
Murder City - ill Noise. 
With it’s juncture grandeur. 
Graffiti from our bones. 

Two-states in the middle west, 
Code of conduct quotas… 
Stop and search manifests, 
As edicts stand alone. 

Sanguine exsanguination, 
Shoot em, while you got em. 
Sanguine exsanguination… 
BANG BANG, you got em…

Sanguine

This song is about the proliferation of personal data on the Internet and how institutions will never be the same, including that of individuation.

Lyrics:

Boom or bust won’t cap your trade, 
Forego the privacy of shame. 
Strung like mementos; we’re framed, 
What we know we’ll illustrate… 

But this history’s alive, 
Like distilling spirits. 
To achieve we must compromise, 
Check for imbalances. 

Rebirth has its consequences, 
These institutions are contrived. 
Reality’s discoursed discernment, 
We’re swimming in our last rites… 

Since this history’s alive, 
We’ll be disparate spirits. 
To achieve we won’t compromise, 
And check for imbalances.

Pop-up

This track is about living in municipalities and dealing with their local governments... Mostly deals with the Chicago Machine. 

Lyrics:

I never bit the keeper though the Zoo is crowded.

Mountain tops, clearance sales.
Outlet shops, sink or bail.

Same town, different name.
Culture frowns, peculiar face.

Locus crops, cry then wail.
Terrorhawk, wind in sails.

So its now until its then.

Flatland colds changing pace,
Hearts been sold to our faith.
New town land to waste,
The Hollow Men in their state.

So its now until its then.
For now is now until we win.

No need to feed this crowd.

They put us in our place,
With their 'L' train pace.
The ever changing face,
Of our city state.

These single file times,
Can't single file lies.

I never bit the keeper though the Zoo is crowded.

Secrets sold filling blanks.
Coal or gold, emboldened ranks.

Same town, dissimilar shape.
Cultures bound, we're replaced.

The locus crops, cries then wails.
Terrorhawk, fear assails.

So its now until its then.
For now is now until we win.

No need to feed this crowd.

They put us in our place,
With their 'L' train pace.
The ever changing face,
Of our city state.

These single file times,
Can't single file lies.

I never bit the keeper though the Zoo is crowded.

The Fly On The Window

Moody and the Mellow