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about

Written: September-October 2015. Lyrics in Summerville, SC; music in Oxford, GA.
What’s it about? Reorganized thoughts on a wave of cyberbullying against me by two figures in particular. Very salty. An attempt at modernizing the Van der Graaf Generator sound as heard on Pawn Hearts and H to He, Who Am the Only One – the demo’s on my Soundcloud. I used Mellotron brass instead of a horn-section VSTi, so it sounds a little proggy, but much rougher and less experimental.
Why name your song after some fetish character? Because I wanted to name a song “Ceyack.” Apologies to that Gear-of-Ren/Julian guy.

lyrics

What about it? What about this whole ordeal? Expose – expose the photonegative. What about it, about my decline and appeal? Hey! New edition still unreal!

I’d like to be at home in CinemaScope™ and tell people, for my presence, they must shed blood and ride in my sheet-metal kayak [to] escape this suburban hell, escape this suburban hell, escape this suburban HELL.

At least I didn’t sell out for a wine cooler, say fuck off and hand out the shot. [I] teach them names that gaslight impure thoughts. Praise, say praise, it’s the only chance you got.

What about it: new twisting ordeal? Subotnick gone rotary and whimsy’s pretty much dead? What about it? You smile as you ensure. Go tell him new music and he’ll never grasp himself.

I know you’re not so innocent as you look. All you college scholars, how I want to SLICE YOUR EYES.

I’d like to be at home in CinemaScope™ and tell people, for my presence, they must shed blood and ride in my sheet-metal kayak [to] escape this suburban hell, escape this suburban hell, escape this suburban HELL.

At least I didn’t sell out for a wine cooler, say fuck off and hand out the shot. [I] teach them names that gaslight impure thoughts. Praise, say praise, it’s the only chance you got.

I just got it: I’m a spectacular mess. I’m just the mediocrity of societal blasé, y’know? Thank you for putting a gun to my head! Of course YOU DENY IT, but the more I repeat, the truer it gets.

What about it? What about what I’m saying? Does it make any sense? DOES IT MAKE ANY SENSE, ANDREW?!

I know continued domination.

I’d like to be at home in CinemaScope™ and tell people, for my presence, they must shed blood and ride in my sheet-metal kayak [to] escape this suburban hell, escape this suburban hell, escape this suburban HELL.

I can’t escape it! It envelops me! It’s like symbiotic sin! What the hell, me? I can’t escape it! It’s my destiny to be a laughing stock! Play Dot Wiggin rock!

At least I didn’t sell out for a wine cooler, say fuck off and hand out the shot. [I] teach them names that gaslight impure thoughts. Praise, say praise, it’s the only chance you got.

credits

from Mercy Machine, released August 23, 2016

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