1. |
Cosmic Joke
02:20
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It's a cosmic joke
And I wanna know
Who else is in on it?
It's a cosmic joke
And I know, oh I know
We're all a part of it
Send out a signal, show me a sign
Call out a name, throw me a line
Ha ha ha ha
These babies laughing and I know
Yeah, they're in on it
Chill fish swimming past his friends
We all know they're so in on it
Tiny black beetles crawling through the cracks
Oh yeah, they're in on it
Oak tree standing strong
Must feel so loud to be so in on it
Yeah to be so...
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2. |
E-girl Robespierre
02:55
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No recollection of March through May
But I know we were here via our streaming history
So let's start printing it out and carve memes into brick
So there'll be evidence of us beyond our cosmic imprints
While right now we're circling and spiraling and running out of steam
Fractals caught in our mazes and running out of steam
So we'll live in our pods and eat our bugs
But they'll be gluten free and taste like Chick-fil-A sauce
And we'll lament no one's murdered Clarence Thomas yet
And how it means our society's got no juice left
As we crave some e-girl Robespierre
Kickstarting our Space Gulag
With her OnlyFans and her bright blue hair
As we talk about love
Yeah we'll talk about anything at all
And everything beyond our walls
And we'll talk on by
And pretend like it's not everything
And pretend like it's authentic me
And pretend that I ain't scared
And pretend that it ain't worth a thing
Oh it ain't worth a thing
But we're here, and I know
That I've finally found the cost of alienating my soul
Far beyond where I'd go
We'll sing "get those eyes away from me"
Oh, get those words away from me tonight
Away from me tonight
Away from me tonight
Wait for me tonight
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3. |
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Sit back now silently
Just listening to the near misses
Ball one, ball two, foul ball, and you
Find my eyes from across the room
Sending out our signals
Crucibles and dogwhistles
Shibboleths from enchantresses
On walkie channel IV fixes
Woah, yeah we're never going back again
Now we're speaking different languages
Genie out the bottle
Now he's glued down to your couch
Inhaling bong rips, eating pop tarts
Throwing up right in your open mouth
And you try to scheme him back inside
Like a massive flying cockroach
Rolled up magazines and broom bristles
Cup and paper Rube Goldbergs
Woah, yeah we're never going back again
Now we're speaking different languages
Oh will you ever hold down a job again?
Oh will you ever make any more friends?
Oh will you ever let your mind relax and
Find a sense of satisfaction?
Woah, yeah we're never going back again
Now we're speaking different languages
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4. |
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Feel it down in the back of my skull
Feel it tapping open, like we've now begun
Feel it down in the back of my skull
Oh it feels like god's been watching
Feel it down in the top of my lungs
Mixing with the saltwater and drops of Kiehl's musk
Feel it down in the top of my lungs
Like I'm going nowhere, and somewhere, and everywhere fast now
We're gonna find something to say and to show
For every single day that passes by from now on
Gonna make new art; throw it around
Inverting our speech in ways we'll keep finding out
Gonna find out
But let's leave things open ended
Feel it down in the pit of my gut
Bus ride home from school after I know I fucked up
Yeah I feel it down in the pit of my gut
But feels like I know it will end
Oh I know it will end, yeah
Feel it flying through the halls
Feeling the drop; trusting the thrust up
Feel it flying through the halls
When I'm going, I'm gone and you won't find me
I'm gone
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5. |
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Wait for the smile break
We must be joking
You gotta know this is a joke
Oh wait, it's not, oh no
So feed me that company line
I'm so hungry, please say it one more time
Feed me that company line
Oh when is art?
Not here, no not this time
As we find ourselves clawing against the wall
Just think of the room
Just think of the room
Just think about people
We're all just people
But you'll be long gone
Probably never stepping foot in
Run these analytics and get more cutthroat for the next one
This stupid fucking joke
As we find ourselves clawing against the wall
Sanding down our fingertips
On gentrifying exposed brick
How will you classify this?
Who gives a shit, you got your money
As we find ourselves clawing against the wall
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6. |
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Yeah it's...
Love in the time of algorithms
Love in the time of myths stuck in us
Love in the time of company lines
Waterboarding our once open minds
Love in the time of algorithms
Love in the time of gross ambition
Love in the time of "fuck the room"
"Fuck the kids," yeah, well fuck you too
We've got love
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Feel Loudly New York, New York
madman campfire folkpunk
feelloudly.com
very old songs: nattyward.bandcamp.com
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