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Sunrise over this wasteland, outstretched and expansive, full of empty hallways, hollow like I am. Junkies vs the last man, one far-fetched benedictive, watching-all-sides-always apprehensive clam of a man. Scratching at my broken window, fiending for computer parts. Spouting how he never needs nothing, then right after asks for something. Late that wake I'm in Missouri, then I awake in Topeka. Eyed up like the next meal by 3 foot birds at 5 am. Late that day I'm in Minneapolis. Dancing heavy to Psykovski. Good friends tell me that I look sketchy but disrespect will never phase me. Like the sunrise over that wasteland, voices in every direction. I want to clear the horizon, straight lines eating the sunset. Like junkies eating the last man. The last chance for insurrection. Is this now natural selection? Or confined to roulette and the sunrise over that wasteland. Dead rats in every direction. Smoke stacks in your baby. Who knows too much already like the junkies killing the last man. Far too brave to say its O.K.. But still gets up every day like it's the only way.
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2. |
Do it Again - GadgetG
04:40
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Do it again. Do it till there's nothing left. Do it again, till it begins.
I am the dirt beneath your work boots, the grease eating your last nerve. The shell that forms from heating and greeting your last nerve from my hell to your feet. Do it again. Do it till there's nothing left. Do it again, till it begins.
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3. |
Rant - GadgetG
01:59
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Out-stretched like manikins, sun bleached valley girls preaching the new songs like they wrote them. Too caught in the televised programming processed like six-winged chickens into your mchappy. They fought in the ostracized rambling of obsessed chicks sucking dick on televised programming. We sought sin, it feels like winning to the cold hand of the business-man giving us sweet nourishment. He lives for the sensation of inflation. Corporations fixated on operations to keep the working man working and the bad rats from lurking. Acclimation of his abomination, radiating dollar bills like some high class whore. Underscore our greed to keep the working man working and the bad rats from lurking. And greasing up your sunny side.
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4. |
Apathetic Loop - GadgetG
04:59
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I have no reason to care and it's o.k.
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5. |
Chopping Block - GadgetG
05:10
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I make some money, just from making enemies. Get it to my honey and I spend it getting fucked. I make some money, put it in my empty head. Fool myself to thinking sunny even as I deconstruct. So why should I take my head from the chopping block? So why should I live my life by the ticking clock? I make some money, just from making enemies. Get it to my honey and we spend it getting fucked. I make some money, put it in my empty head. Fool myself to thinking sunny even as I deconstruct.
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long ago they told me to stop, but I couldn't stop till I got lost. Down twisted conundrums till I got to you. Long ago they told me to stop. That I would never reach the top. Then I met you and my humdrum perception stopped. Even if I scream my voice just .wav form, screaming when you not around keeps me warm. Long ago I never knew, you would be around to feel my doubts. In this bullshit town built around an old sound. I would misconstrue all the things you do to get through. But now I know how to do. and even if I scream my voice just .wav form, screeching when your not around keeps me warm.
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Soon the space between, will be a memory oh yeah. All the waste we've seen, shiny penitentiary oh yeah. Will be unseen, and rudimentary. Like cold machines, being dissembled, oh yeah. In time, it will seem like a fast wind, to you. We will kick start our life of sin. Winning like the fast tracks. Grinning like the fat rats. Spending all our last stacks on weed, and booze, and things to brake. Like t.v.s, cell phones, stress from our past life, computers and trombones, this hot mess and sharp knives, our reasons, our sex drive, our demons we are alive.
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8. |
Touch of Death - GadgetG
02:47
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I've got the death in my touch, let me feel someone. Let me feel someone. I feel the breath too much. Now I'm done. Now I'm done. Hun, you've got to watch to sexy. I feel no need to feed the hunger. One day I will fill the beast up. Eager for either your skin or your cold sweat, yeah. I've got the touch of death on me, and you've got the sexy to make a feast of. Although you seem to forget it often, I know it could be so deadly, your sexy.
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9. |
Ode to Bowie - GadgetG
02:50
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Starman, I can hear you. I can nearly feel you and your warm noise from my wasteland. Do you even have a clue? All the things that you do, all the things you do. Starman, can you hear me? Just a child from a small town, stranded in .wav form, handing myself to the swam (handing myself to the swarm). Let them say what they want I don't care,. Let them say I'm cold or hot I don't care. Unaware as choice, a crumbly voice from the bottom of a small town. Talk won't get me down. Cause even if you die you will always be around spaceman (spaceman).
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10. |
July Jennacide - GadgetG
03:05
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What a while you wait
shedding your long black hair
everything that you hate
spreading in your stair
what a smile you hold
until you start your crashing
well, it's getting old
and your brain took the lashings
keep your shell alive
there must be something
sleep till you arrive
a drive to nothing
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11. |
Burning Out - GadgetG
03:54
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im only happy when I'm burning out
otherwise it seems I get so stressed
till I can feel something all throughout
and its unwise to keep it compressed
im only happy when I'm burning out
life is easy when I calm down
it takes away most of the doubt
and let's me focus more on the sound
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12. |
Daily toll - GadgetG
02:26
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ooooooooo. ahhhhhh. The water breaks my bones. The waves, they carry me home. There is no struggle from me, no struggle from me at all. Clocking in to the humdrum conundrum. I can't win I give some till I go numb. My body is thin, my heads dumb, my moneys done. my thoughts are pinned, my minds a slum like everyone's. I hold my breath, suffocate at an exponential rate. I wait for death, as I medicate till I'm motivated to get out of bed to instigate and fabricate the thoughts in my head they procreate and populate till I am a mess, till I am a mess yeah. The water breaks my bones. The waves, they carry me home. There is no struggle from me, no struggle from me at all.
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GadgetG Duluth, Minnesota
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