Very limited edition CD of IF THE DUST WAS YOUR FEELINGS, I GUESS I WAS ON MY OWN, in sexy chipboard wallet, with postcard insert, and handmade, block-printed, two-tone cover art! Each one is completely unique!
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Get a limited edition chapbook of IF THE DUST WAS YOUR FEELINGS, I GUESS I WAS ON MY OWN! Complete with all lyrics from the album, and original artwork by Jacob Earl.
ships out within 3 days
edition of 25
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$8CADor more
about
About the way we sometimes don't make decisions, and then they get made for us.
lyrics
Alright…
Model number: SLB10P, we want you to choose between option A and option B.
If you select too slowly…remove reward unit.
Make the wrong choice…well I trust you
won’t do it.
I set out, reroute down limited pathways.
Feeling put out and crushed.
Unlimited ashtrays on hightops in dive spots
before they outlawed smoking.
Stale air and old beer feeling soft spots in
cantaloupe and…
Forgot to grab tomatoes I guess I got cans I’ll
open.
Out in the intersection dodging mopeds.
When I reached the next corner, my crew
changed our meeting.
Moved from the same old spot now these
thoughts are fleeting.
I had one job but my memory failed me.
Stopped making excuses for my humanity
and frailty.
They’re waiting on me…
But this feels important so I rehearse and
refine, train my comportment.
Adjust my clothing, take a long hard look in
the mirror
chilling in the crown jewel similar to
Canberra.
I get overwhelmed with this ill assortment…
how about you tell me what it is if it’s that important.
Well you might think this choice is nice.
Well I don’t.
No I don’t.
And you might think variety’s the spice of
life.
Well I don’t.
No I don’t.
It’s like a claw machine that neo-circus music
at the thruway rest stop minus amusement
that toy story scene let my man Buzz do it
in here with the Martians decisions become
congruent.
Out here with the multitudes.
Aggressive type As.
Don’t put too much on my back…
I might break.
I might bake.
Let my afternoon waste…
I’m conserving energy selecting alternatives
might take.
I’m thee highest.
Please highness, these riddles are bullshit.
Allow me to be honest.
Infinity is the number of possible outcomes.
But here in my brain…
improbable amalgam of hideous creations
from Doctor Moreau’s Island.
This would be just fine if it wasn’t all the
time and…
I put too much into all the rhyming…
that I neglect important things that I should
be doing.
I should be shining.
Instead I’m pursing a fairly mundane
existence with debt accruing.
Sometimes it feels out of my control…
and then I feel ruined until I’m consoled.
I step back.
Let the rapids carry.
To the terminus and galaxy’s boundary.
These fluids will…
will have me ruined still…
and give into its wishes along the Potenskill.
Well you might think this choice is nice.
Well I don’t.
No I don’t.
And you might think variety’s the spice of
life.
Well I don’t.
No I don’t.
High price; top dollar.
Moonlight sonata for a midnight caller.
Back to basics; call of the wild
There I was: A grownup child.
Ranting, wanting anything but
To contribute to the harm of my love.
Paid such a lofty price;
Other souls have lost their life.
Rage and karma boiling over;
Condensation covers the walls.
Fuck the p, I shuffled in here
Scuffed pride, scrambled eggshells.
I tiptoed over 'em every time you were near.
I never pretended to be a saint
Or put your needs ahead o' my own.
Altruism is a better man's feint.
Well you might think this choice is nice.
Well I don’t.
No I don’t.
And you might think variety’s the spice of
life.
Well I don’t.
No I don’t.
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