Into the Stacks

by Lives of the Obscure

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credits

released 01 August 2014

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Track Name: Televangelist
Rosa Clay the Laid-Off Televangelist
“Heaven’s on my side,” she said.
“But I don’t see the light.
“But every time He breathes
“I feel my eyes.

“Heaven’s on my side,” she said.
“But I can’t go.
“But I signal from time to time.
“Helpless from time to time.”

The raindrops in the orchard
are angels in the orchard.
Orchards in the open
are angels in the morning.

“Heaven’s on my side,” she said
from down below.
“The silver lining’s blind.
“The silver lining’s blind.”

“Heaven’s on my side,” she said.
Track Name: Closing Costs
Inside our skin. Outside our skin.
Can we count objective facts?
Nervous systems of Fido, Smith,
and me—we make a world from that.
Pavlov barks through muddy fingers
digging holes for all of us.
Revolutions turn and turn but
aren’t the central cause of us.

We tried hard to fit in with you.
We tried hard to fit in with you.
Then you broke our legs and then
you called us lazy.
But we’ll fight back.
Become revolutionaries.

Rip my heart out. Verbal level.
Rip my soul out. Separate it.
Doors are swinging. Boards are creaking.
Cracked foundation. Roof is leaking.
Verbal level. Point right at the
verbal level. Furnace flaming.
Verbal level.
Silence makes it accurate.

We don’t think of the fun we had.
We think of the friends we lost.
We don’t think of the house we bought.
We think of the closing costs.
Track Name: Suburban Bully's Eastern Guest
Did a little Rodney Dangerfield.
It was my best impression.
Started with some Rodney Dangerfield.
But she didn’t listen.

She wanted to climb up to the rooftop
and spit into the vacant lot.
She’s never seen Caddyshack.
And she’s never looking back.

The moonlight falls on the Yangtze River.
The sunlight falls on the Hudson River.

And the river glistening left no impression.
And the aspen rustling left no impression.
And I did my Bill Cosby. No impression.
And the thrushes singing. She didn’t listen.

And the moonlight falls on the Yangtze River.
The sunlight falls on the Hudson River.
Track Name: Scrubbed
“born alone die alone born alone die alone”
That’s what I learned at the Cro Mag shows growing up.

Now you’re down in the sea
stuck to this rock with me.
The current churns and I think:
“Listen the fuck up. John Joseph
told us to move the fuck up.”

You scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed
all the stains on your character.
Till you rubbed your flesh all away.

Shucking the oyster shells shucking the oyster shells.
Earth stomach turns as I fill your horseshoe up.
Swimming in nicotine. Swimming in kerosene.
I’m just a hardcore kid and you’re smarter than that.
Yeah, you’re smarter than everyone. You’ve got intelligence for everyone.
Track Name: Sirens
I saw this guy hold up a convenient store.
It all happened right before my eyes.
The Asian clerk he looked unphased
even after “Anyone moves, everyone dies.”
I saw the robber’s green eyes
behind the counter in the fisheye mirror.
My mind it contrived
but repeated, “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Had my hand in my pocket
rolling around the Swiss-Army knife.
Didn’t want to be nobody’s hero
for a beer and a pack of Camel Lights
or whatever they call them now
but the sable of his glock was gleaming.
I drunk his green eyes when he turned around
he asked me he asked me

if it would be alright when the lights flashed in,
if we would be alright when the sirens blast,
if we would be alright when the lights flashed in,
if we would be alright with the sirens.

I don’t know.
Track Name: Serpents
Serpents crawling through each of our toes.
A turtle, a vessel, floating into no-mind.
Everest melting into a pool of lava.
Lift the shell to release the pressure of….

And on and on
into the stratosphere we go.
We’re all alone.
All of the pop stars told us so.

Lime-skin shadow. Fleshy planet gone.
A silver bus, a spaceship
no one else is on.
Talking machines make cold company.
There’s no laughing or communal journey.

And on and on
into the stratosphere we go.
We’re all alone.
All of the pop stars told us so.
Track Name: Sins Like These
The stark rainy road
is gonna have to do this time.
We follow the gnomes
to see the earthworms earthbound.

Sins like these we throw below our minds.
Faults like these we take with us for all time.

The cracked rainy road
is gonna have to be our line.
So follow the gnomes
to find the earthworms earthbound.

Sins like these we throw below our minds.
Faults like these we take with us for all time.
Track Name: Foothill
When the fountain on the desk of the crust erupts,
when the markings on the tokens join the sandstars,
when the tidal waves evaporate annihilate
our garden will erode.

When the furnace bursts into every basement,
when the nightlights burn a path from the outside in,
when the doorbells cast their windy spell, well
our garden will erode.
Eight million years ago.

And there our sunlight is a pinhole,
a speck in another’s constellation,
a minor player in their fables,
a tiny foothill in their tableaux.

I spot a shiny George Washington on the rocks.
Outside the brothel they fight like a pair of gamecocks.
The waves keep crashing on and crashing on and
polish every stone.

A pair of red shades melts into a pool of plastic.
Expanding suns mean shrinking earth until the clocks tick,
and share our energy, our luminance expansive
and polish every stone.
Eight million years ago.

And there our sunlight is a halo,
a speck in another’s constellation,
a minor player in their fables,
a tiny foothill in their tableaux.
Track Name: The Piano Wire
The piano wire’s on fire.
But the house don’t stand a chance.
The build is true but tired.
Power lines to power plants.

It’s burning it’s burning it’s burning it’s burning
You’re burning you’re burning you’re burning

It’s all up to you now
if you want to call.
They’re standing at the ready
all around the fire pole.
It’s all up to you now
if you want to call.
Track Name: Electron
I’m a dwindling fire.
I can’t reach much higher.
All those things I said I’d do
twist in the cyclone spires.

Another day’s gone and I’m carrying along
like a steady spinning electron.

Hydrogen expired.
Oxygen required.
All my plans have spun away,
projects been retired.

Another day’s gone and I’m carrying along
like a steady spinning electron.

Another day’s gone and I’m carrying along
like a steady spinning electron.
Like a steady swirling electron.
Like an erratically vibrating electron.
Track Name: Dew
The dew in the garden told me
no spinning wheel will hold me.
No deadline will ever glow in my head.
The way the instructions told me,
“You got that energy
condensed into a tiny thing,” they said.

You’ll be someone we’ll never meet.
We’ll be someone.

The gnome in the garden told me,
“Put plastic wrap around everything,
sweat it out in the heat,” he said.
The jade in the window strangled,
the furniture at all angles,
“There is no time for comfort,” he said.

If you’re not rich, you’re lazy.
Your will to work gets hazy.
Don’t bother wasting your life
just getting out of bed.
Wake up at the worldwide summit,
watch all these numbers plummet;
we spend our days predicting the spread
while the kids are getting older
and our bodies getting frailer
and any scent of legacy
just feels absurd and stupid.
And every seven years
we run the shredder, shred the tears,
and send down the River Lethe
the tiny lives we’ve led.
Track Name: Small Perspectives
Can’t find nothing that feels good and washes the soul and shares the light.
The search for fireflies ends in a death in a jar on my dresser.
I seek the purity of innocence but then I get out of my car and fill up.
Houses’ foundations forged on a short-term loan from nature.

I stand at odds out here.
I waste what little there is left out here.

Conversations with nature always become a bargaining with weighted chips.
They will end badly for us with our big dreams and our small perspectives.

I stand at odds out here.
I waste what little there is left out here.

I can’t find nothing that feels good.