Baby rattlesnake
Deadly adorable
Orphan left to face
A world so poor and cruel

Cautiously you slink
Across the desert plains 
With just your instinct 
And venom in your veins 

And if anyone asks your name
You just flash them fangs

Little rattlesnake
You got a lot to learn
These days, what’s real and what’s fake 
Ain’t easy to discern

Pause before you strike
To patiently assay 
Measuring the bite   
According to the prey

And always wait ‘til they’re within range
‘Fore you flash them fangs

Child, you may be slight 
But your bite 
Is as lethal as anything

And the eagle circling overhead
Who’d just as soon see you dead
One day he’s gonna feel your sting

And I know you feel alone
And afraid
Nestled there in the shade
Just know it’s gonna be OK

Baby rattlesnake
Coiled up behind a stone
Someday you will shake
A rattle of your own

But don’t be misled
By those who rattle on
Taking for granted
The grounds they battle on

Besides, a rattle won’t make a change
No, a rattle won’t make a change
You gotta use them fangs

Musicians: 
James Florence - vocals, acoustic guitar, bass, tambourine 
Micah Suard - synthesizers 
Jon Terwilliger - drums 

Recorded by Davis McElwee at Sea Sick Studio in Santa Rosa, CA 
Mixed and mastered by Jon Terwilliger 
Lyrics by James Florence

Fangs

A philosophy without humility 
Is usually just a utility
A means of profit or self-preservation
Masquerading as inspiration

You take a peaceful instrument 
And wield it like a deadly weapon 
Your shoes are shined and polished but your
Sole’s caked with the bullshit you’ve been steppin’ in

You say your mind is open but 
There’s guards posted outside every entrance
Seems those who act most confident 
Are those with the heaviest defenses

I’d like to salvage your frame
But it’s rusted over
Nothing fit to reclaim
Ain’t it a damn shame

A conviction without comprehension
Is commonly just a convention
A framework occupied for generations
Badly in need of renovations 

The lengths gone to fortify
A house whose foundation is eroding
No doubt, you’ll still be hunkered down
Inside when the charges start exploding

I’d like to salvage your frame
But it’s rusted over
Nothing fit to reclaim
Ain’t it a damn shame

Rags, once robes of royalty
Misguided brand loyalty
Likeminded communities
Franchise opportunities
Blue-pilled, programmed progeny
Relentless homogeny
Big wheels keep on turning
One day they’ll be burning

Rusted Over

“Justice” is a fierce, stirring protest anthem for the modern age, featuring a unique blend of acoustic and electronic instruments.

Justice

PARTIAL CELL is a non-genre-specific sonic entity from Sonoma County, CA. Welding an unlikely amalgam of acoustic guitar and synthesizer, we’re working out a sound that can’t be pinned down.