Performed and written by Three Gunas
Recorded and produced by Rodrigo Coronel

Talking and walking and thinking and breathing and making up meanings but don't you dare make none for me. 
I feel like Atlas, the bad kid, existence on my back 
But that's OK, I packed some platitudes 
For when they ask me to suit their attitude. 

I hear you all talking and walking and thinking and breathing 
Now shut up and listen 
To my Animus 

Hatred, reiterated, by your little gifts 
Original sins to fix to pretend the bliss didn't get 
Washed away in forty days and nights of capriciousness 
And a bitch 22 situation is all you left me with. 
Better figure it out from this moment right now til I reach the river of Styx 
Down to Dante's to see the newest thing for me between levels four and six 
Ain't that a bitch? 
That's why I can't get rid of this animus. 

Face full of sulphur 
Andromeda is getting bigger 
Holy kid for the red light shift 
Don't you feed me that trick 
You want something that exists? 
How about this animus? 

Sang a song for the ages now I'm walking through Hades 
Cause that's what the pity of the Gods is. 
What was the vision again? 
Made from the very same that you'll bury me in? 
Is there a chance in Hell or should I leave romance 
With an "oh, well" for my kid at the corner of the crib 
Or stick a knife in his ribs? 
I bet I'll still have this no good animus 

Face full of sulphur 
Andromeda is getting bigger 
Holy kid for the red light shift 
Don't you feed me that trick 
You want something that exists? 
How about this animus?

Animus

Performed and written by Three Gunas
Recorded and produced by Rodrigo Coronel
(instrumental)

Criminal Rhythm

Performed and written by Three Gunas
Recorded and produced by Rodrigo Coronel

A cigarette with the Devil's advocate 
I'm a half-dead mess 
And she looks lovely in her February dress. 
Can I confess? 
Simple sex is probably the best we'll get 
So smoke your meth 
Then lay chakra rocks on your naked chest 
I've got no rhymes, time, reasons, or place to protest 

Lock me up in Paris 
Then you call me a simpleton 
About as afraid of death as 
Emily fucking Dickinson 

There's strangers in my soul 
Even stranger chemicals 
But I don't know 
Where this mighty mind of mine goes 
But I know I don't wanna be alone 
Not at Dante's door 
But that's the only place I'm guaranteed a home 
Got a million thoughts like those 

But I don't need for you to give me your life 
Mine's enough, in fact, it's rough more than half the time 
That's why for you and I 
I'm only talking about 
Existential anodyne 

So smoke your meth 
And give me the time 
Got no rhymes, time, reasons, or place to protest 
And I'd be lying if I didn't say you had the happier head 
Than my own broken home, telephone, lonely bones, cigarette smoke laying alone in bed. 

Have the sun in your eyes and the gun in your hand 
Or the gun in your eyes and the sun in your hand 
I've got the gun in my hand and the sun in my eyes 
You've got the sun in your hands and the gun in your eyes 
But you can't have both of them 
Ain't that a shame, man?

Existential Anodyne

Performed and written by Three Gunas
Recorded and produced by Rodrigo Coronel

Who am I? 
I don’t know, man 
But right here in this tab 
Is a couple people I can gladly be 
But are they really me? 

Miss gypsy green 
I ask you please 
You wanna sit with me 
And have just half a cup of tea? 

I go off track 
With my thoughts 
I turn my words turn to rhymes 
But I wonder if they really ought to be 
Am I speaking honestly? 

Is that God who’s shouting now? 
Or is it my 
Head in my heart in my mind in hand 
Trying to get out 

Who’s that Mr. Meaner? 
Preaching meanings 
At the dreamers about 
What will happen to you? 
Is that the truth? 

True, the grass is always greener 
But the people always meaner 
And cruel 

But right here 
Everything feels submarine 
And the trees are breathing sweeter too 

Take a step away 
From time and space 
Your face it taste of colors red and blue 
At least for another hour or two 

Is that God who's shouting now? 
Or is it 
My head in my heart in my mind in my hand 
Trying to get out? 

I don’t know 
If I can speak 
I’m 100% brain to 
Physical reality 

There’s so much to see 
So keep your dreams 
I ain't ready for ayahuasca tea 

Miss gypsy green 
She says to me 
“I think you’ve had enough thinking” 
I say “No, that’s how I’ll always be” 

I’m not ready for any ayahuasca tea 
It’s enough of a trip just trying to find the next place to sleep 
It's enough of a trip just trying to get myself to get along with me.

Just A Half A Cup Of Tea

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Track from the forthcoming album "Old Man Young Presents the Liminal Vibration" out June 24th.

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