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Slobs

by Sunchoke

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1.
Never was there an odor more vile and vulgar than a whiff of this guy that I knew. His face was a beet, had melons for feet and he’d eat live cats while they mewed Hardly 5’3’’, much thinner than me, his appetite bordered on lewd Ate himself into jail and emptied his pail, screamed, threatened and begged for more food His life was short and strange Remembered by too few Comment-allez vous? Does hell have better food? Once he ate 2 dozen snakes and washed it all down with a bull All this in one sitting while groaning and shitting and praying in vain to feel full Back out on the street, his sentence complete, he came by to borrow my pencil He said he’s meeting his face, lamenting the date he devoured that golden utensil His life was short and strange Remembered by too few Comment-allez vous? Does hell have better food? His epitaph neatly printed, he strained, struggled and squinted Though he was widely despised, neighbors pitied his cries and had him hospitalized Making iron but no precious metal, nothing could improve his fettle A morphine drip and some water to sip, and they saw that his affairs were settled Hungry beyond all reason, he slipped out the infirmary’s yard Found dead on the street, mouth full of raw meat, amid rumors he dined in the kids’ ward
2.
Closed down buildings are the best for breaking in, and flipping out I know you probably hardly notice a beat up bank, or an empty lot, so As long as I can look around, check myself and stomp down hard on some bolts Let the pain wash over me and feel it fade like a wasted day, oh A wide and balanced stance, trying to advance, a much needed chance To arrange my scrambled plans swirling in my head It weighs me down like lead Nothing will do instead Boarded up drug stores always remind me of the signs we took And we pushed, pushed away To find a place we felt unseen And tried to get a clean one Nothing will do instead I’ll come back to you again
3.
We’ve all tuned our screens to the damndest of scenes then flipped them back and called it dull or depressing Then got on with our lives with it rationalized as a problem for some brighter mind’s addressing But when you’re next on the list to feel cruelty’s swinging fist, youll find your vain distractions much less pressing And when it’s your house in flames and your concern is dodging blame, it would seem you’ve missed a fundamental lesson Didn’t mean to proselytize I think we can reach some compromise I won’t blame you, you won’t blame me We’ll all be blameless and fucked Dire warnings from afar no longer preset in your car, cause the details, honestly, are boring You’ve done all you can do or at least what you’ve got around to And who needs doom and gloom to start their morning? But when its your turn to ride along that fatal tide unheard cries will replace your mocking snoring And when you’re floating away do you really think you’ll say, at least its not my fault that its pouring Didn’t mean to proselytize I think we can reach some compromise I won’t blame you, you won’t blame me We’ll all be blameless and fucked
4.
Mama Tried 02:12
Hey! Never thought that I could get away with half the risks I’ve took to date Gonna pull some shit, you gotta do it quick Least that’s what you always told me Jumping at the chance makes the man
5.
6.
Goosebumps video game You could pick your nose twice while its painting a frame Beware of evil pixels out to murder and maim Its the spooky windows NT goosebumps video game Goosebumps video game There’s a spooky evil dummy with Slappy for a name Beware of evil dummies when you’re playing the game (what game?) The spooky evil goosebumps dummy video game (oh) Goosebumps video game Slappy reached right through the screen and stole the disk for the game Now its that spooky evil dummy’s windows NT spooky evil dummy’s goosebumps low-frame video game
7.
Been numbing myself cause its easier Than processing things and feeling hurt Pushing myself in any direction Breaks off into pieces that all need attention Energy’s zapped and I got no gumption Pat myself on the back for continuing function Don’t want to invite any sympathy Got myself in this mess yeah its all me Uh oh I think I been here before, turn around, where’s the light? Here before last time I just slipped by Here before last time I made it out Hiding truths from myself I don’t really want to find yet Not traveling to the dark side of my mind yet Its a nice place to visit, got a lot to take in But staying too long means less chance of escaping Im holding tight here just working on my mind state Playing games by myself and counting the passing days I have three things to do and can’t seem to choose one Turn it over and over and finally wind up with none Uh oh I think I been here before, turn around, where’s the light? Here before last time I just slipped by Here before last time I made it out
8.
Slobs 05:02
Its bright, its early The night is blurry Feel guilty, let things slip Gotta find something to do to take my mind off it The sun’s beating down I step out, blow a smoke cloud A haze is good for now Im switching up my way down Its fine, I handle my shit when I’m taking sips, but I’m throwing ‘em back It might be too much to take cause wasting a day just ain’t what it used to be I don’t think I got it in me to act like normal if you talk to me The weekend is over and I’ve gone And made myself sick in the head again Verse 2, struggling broken fragments of ideas buried in my notepad Its fun to write these songs Like making love with a mask on Intimate, anonymous, close up, but distant Its fine, I handle business, time to go all in, I got nothing to hide I don’t like keeping secrets but lately I been thinking, might give it a try? I don’t think I got it in me to act like normal if you talk to me The weekend is over and I’ve gone And made myself sick in the head again I don’t think I got it in me to act like normal if you talk to me Or function out there in society

credits

released January 1, 2022

Recorded, mixed and mastered by Vince Dejesus

All songs written and performed by Sunchoke

Saxophone on 'Slobs' by Matt Marsters of Frankly Lost

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Sunchoke Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

All natural, free-range post-punk

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