she was scared
she was scared
he knew where she'd be

I told her that I'd stay by her side, oh no

she just hid her eyes
told me she was fine, oh no
hands between her thighs
and murder on her mind

took her somewhere safe
gave her my vape, oh no

then I went to find the guy,
i knew where he'd find, found it in time
to bust the door open wide

there was no one there
it was more than I could bear, oh no
she was always right
hands between her thighs

oh no

ain't you all so proud
for silencing the loud
or can't you hear the sound
of laughter and tears?

the border jails still hold
people young and old
the body cam's still show
state-sanctioned death

but they've legalized your weed
and ended quarantine
so you're happy as can be
oh the sun feels so warm
(x2)

i'm a lotus on a leaf
and they're laughing as we sleep
but it's getting time to feed
oh won't you wake up my friends

The Sun Feels So Warm

jimi sings little wing
take what you came for

i won't say it's ok
take what you came for

lazy hope burn-free rope
feel my feelings go

sword play stays knight all day
says the round table

feel my feelings go

oh you crazy people all you gotta do is listen to me 
i'll tell you the things that you need to know 
if you just let me count to three 
oh you crazy people with your heads so tangled up in blue 
i know you got a lot of things going on 
but just wait and listen to what i have to tell you

oh i swear once you hear these words 
you're not gonna know what hit you baby 
this aint like nothing you hear on the radio station
i got lots of advice and it all has to do with my own life
i got lots of advice and it all has to do with me

Listen Up!

it sounds good to say! sure does!

Oh baby I’ve figured it out 
A pretty girl is like a rainbow trout
A rainbow trout is like a chandelier
Hey pretty girl won’t you come over here

Oh baby I don’t know why
You fill my dreams with apple pie
And apple pie makes my eyes blink slow
Cmon don’t make me the last to know

Oh baby I’ve figured it out
Nothin makes sense when you’re down and out
Down and out is when there’s no more beer
Hey pretty girl won’t you come over here

oh god it hurts!

These recordings were just sitting on my computer, so here, internet, this is for you.

A Cure For My Headache

Moneytown

Icantwaittobealonewithyou

Give In To Love

Cold Paradise

life is hard (i will survive)

Kill Your Ego

Andy

Maybe I'm To Blame

Bodega Run

Man on a bodega run finishes his pack of cigarettes
Before he gets back home, goes back to the bodega instead

Will I ever get back to my home
It's been a week since I left my home

Bodega runnnnn, Bodega runnnnn
Maybe the government can help me
Maybe my mom can save me
But I won't know 'cause I gotta go
Bodega runnnnn

He's getting kinda worried
Thinking of his dog alone and sad
Is he coming home soon
Or did he just become his dad

I always thought that that was just a line
I think I've got to go back one more time

Bodega runnnnnn

***side two is a cover of Long Black Veil by The Band (also covered by Dave Matthews Johnny Cash Joan Baez etc.)***

Bodega Run

Time Doesn't Matter

I don't know who's in charge 
But I know it's not me
So I will walk the earth
Doomed to measure worth
Doomed to what I see

And I feel like I'm in the lion's den
With a man who needs me to balance his books
And the lions are giving him hungry looks
But they don't know I'm here yet

Lion's Den

I see you wandering a quiet lamplit street
Tired and bleedy-eyed
You're looking round the days that won't let you sleep
That keep you drained all through the night

These sorrows you collect are stones 
Weigh heavy on your bones

Soldier mama, lay down your weary head
Let me put your daily tragedies to bed
Yesterday may keep its grudges
But today we can rest easy

Every nook and cranny of this town 
is a canvas on which you paint your woes
And you wear your mistakes like a thorny crown 
because you think you don't deserve to let them go

You don't have to walk alone
I love you and your trials are my own

Soldier mama let me take from you this cup
Its filled with what you’ve lost and what you’ve given up
Yesterday may keep its grudges
But today we can rest easy

Soldier mama lay down your weary head
Let me put your daily tragedies to bed
Yesterday may keep its grudges
But today we can rest easy

rest easy

#SCxiamOTHER

So good with strangers So good alone
The only danger Is getting too close

I don’t want you to be there
You let on too much
Bout who I really am, dear
And like that my stranger days are done

Don't think I hate you You just know me too well
And you expect so little Why you’re still here I can’t tell

I don’t want you to be there
You let on too much
Bout who I really am dear
And like that my stranger days are done

When I’m called into business To do what must be done
If somebody starts shooting I must be free to run

I don’t want you to be there
You let on too much
Bout who I really am dear
And like that my stranger days are done

stranger days

You are the worst friend I ever had
All your stories are a drag
And you never pass the bag
You are the worst friend I ever had
You never reply to texts
Unless it’s to your ex
You are the worst friend I ever had
All you ever do is whine
We gotta work for your good time
You are the worst friend I ever had
But I’ll be damned 
if you’re not my friend

The Worst Friend I Ever Had

I Don't Need It

A Big Fuck You To Hans Zimmer

You Who Looks Different

Pop Song #4

Once I Get My Shit Together

It’s not a real live wire

Forest of weeds
Tall as a tree
Driven by green gasoline
Trash caught in reeds
Damned the creek
Now do you see what i mean?

It’s not a real live wire

So this is free
Forced to be me
Born back unceasingly
Over the sea
Time leave me be
Now do you see what i mean?

It’s not a real live wire

live wire

Sometimes in the dustiest of dust-filled barrooms
You’ll find a man so broken and so drunk
You won’t know outright whether to believe his story
You won’t know whether to laugh or to judge
Me I met such a man yesterday
He had just been fired from being a cop
I was sipping my beer when he stumbled over next to me
He put his arm around me and told me “don’t get up”
He told me he was only doing his duty
He did what he had been trained to do
He told me he was only following orders
He told me I’d been raised to kill the bad guys too
Just when I had heard enough of his drunk rambling
His voice it cracked and his eyes they did shine
He dropped his head onto the sticky table
And sobbed upon it quite a long long time
I slapped him on the back, said “pull yourself together”
He nodded and said “there’s just one thing I gotta know”
He said “my life is over, there’s not a living soul who don’t hate me”
He got real small and said “where the hell am I supposed to go?”
I told him “sorry, but I don’t have the answer
I’m a person who the crueler fates avoid
There is a man who knows, find him and he’ll tell you the answer
Don’t forget his name, it’s George, George Floyd”

Don't Forget His Name

I Close My Eyes And Whistle

i have no words

https://open.spotify.com/artist/0iMC3jntDJEH7JeEB2GGah?si=XVVRQHbqRxyBk15lbp5h3Q

spicy mike doesn’t exist. 

He’s fiction. A dish for you to consume. spicy mike is the product of many people, designed to look like the effortless and odorless shit of one man. He’s a pill that cures the guilt you get when the neighborhood homeless man asks you for spare change and you say no. 

spicy mike sings lo-fi folk songs so you can show your friends how interesting and woke you are. You don't want to think too hard. But you'd like to think you've got good taste. You ARE your tastes, and you've got a taste for music that sounds like nothing else out there. You want to feel like you're making a difference, like you're a part of something bigger than yourself, something real. 

spicy mike just wants Bob Dylan to hear his album.

You’re reading his “bio,” a desperate pitch to get you to listen to his music. You might already be listening to his music, music he made; but why did he make it? God only knows. (it's for Bob Dylan)

At one point it could’ve been about the money. But this music is all free. 

Yes, someone made this bio, and someone made this music, but who? spicy mike? Does this sound like him to you? Do you know him? And if you think you know him, who’s to say he hasn’t changed? Do any of us go to sleep at night the same person who woke up that morning?

Maybe if enough of you listen to spicy mike's album, Bob Dylan will too. Or his music will fall on deaf ears. So be it. spicy mike doesn’t even realize he’d be better off. 

But then again, he doesn’t exist.

Trash Trash Trash

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