1. |
||||
|
Here’s one I bet you wouldn’t want to meet in the wild
The scent of raw meat between the politician’s teeth
Slavering over a shivering child
At home we find it best to try to keep them in line
Some jingling coins and some velvety loins
Makes them forget they’re already dying
Oh Mr. Perkins, you’ve such a glaring white smile
But don’t mind Jim, so secretive and grim
You’ll have alligator shoes in a while...
Here’s one I bet you wouldn’t want to meet in the wild
With a sleight of wrist and the invisible fist
He’s anointed the bank vaults in his castles in the sky
Clipped wings and a nice little perch will be fine
Yesterday’s news is covered up with rotting food
You won’t smell it if you just keep on buying...
Here’s one I bet you wouldn’t want to meet in the wild…
|
||||
2. |
Bury the Bell
03:32
|
|||
|
Bury the bell—
What if it's ringing?
No alarms, and no surprises…
Lead in the well—
What's that you're drinking?
Raise a toast to your half-lives.
Because…if I go further than others,
it's from kicking the balls of those giants,
so they fall by the side of the roadway.
They think
that their brains
run so much smoother
and then quote
some asshole named
"Dunning Kruger."
Bury the bell—
(sink sink sink sink sink sink…)
What if it's ringing?
(oh well)
No alarms, and no surprises…
Lead in the well—
(drink drink drink drink drink drink…)
What's that you're drinking?
(so kool)
Raise a toast to your half-lives.
My GPS says turn right here
(beautiful evening…)
and drive off the cliff
(you can almost see the stars)
These pants ain't big enough for the both of us,
so I'm wearing them—cover your assets.
Forward! Full-speed, torpedoes and angels
scattering,
rushin' in
fear from those snowflakes
melting down.
Everyone knows news is fake.
|
||||
3. |
||||
|
Let me tell you how it will be...
All of you is microdecimals of me
I am your alphabet, your omegavitamin
All your base are belong the golden site I'm in
Dare to tell me what you want me to hear
Stuff my gullet with interest, if I lend an ear
Weigh and measure, see where the marketvane leads
Flow to my treasury, compounding interest breeds
If a tree falls in a forest and it's unmonetized...
What's the sound of one hand clapping...if it's cash-shy?
Your value's like a cat in a Schrödinger cage
You only live or die depending on the whim of my gaze
You wanna take but you can't take until I
Deign to make and bake an all-of-it pie
One slice for me and—no slice for you
Maybe after you're dead, we'll melt your bones into glue
If a tree falls...
If a tree falls...
If a tree falls...
If all the trees fall...
(Here come the woodchipper!)
|
||||
4. |
Falling, Falling
04:20
|
|||
|
Pardon me (he said)—my flaming hooves
have set the carpet on fire.
Have sympathy instead—I am used
to temperatures so much higher.
Since I’ve fallen, they hate and despise me
more than rain on a wedding day,
but don’t hope you can help to revise me—
No hope in hell that I’ll just go away.
Out in the yard, she is gardening
and tasting some unknown fruit.
Dropping her guard, undisheartening
some salesman in snake-oiled boots.
Well I know I know when I’m dreamin’
and what’s in my tree and such,
if it’s high or low or broke even,
and which branches make a good crutch.
Sorry, madam and Steve,
you’ll be needing to leave—
No it’s not just the rent
or the garments forwent…
It would seem that we're
falling, falling, falling…
It's the inevitable
calling, calling, calling…
Still me and you,
we are nobody’s fools.
Dominoes blink, the clock goes blank,
and silos’ eyes open wide.
‘Shipping this brink, we flock in ranks
to mass and flow, whirled in whirlwind tide.
Such joy and freedom, unrooted,
thought we’d never, ever be free.
Hear our songs, our glory saluted
in rainbows of brute gravity.
So I think you’ll have guessed
with whose presence you’re blessed—
All those fates cast to winds
and which answers are wins…
There’s no question we’re
Falling, falling, falling…
Sorry nobody’s
calling, calling, calling…
From on high, we are
falling, falling, falling…
Can’t touch that dial, no
calling, calling, calling…
Still me and you,
we are nobod—
|
||||
Monkey Typing Pool Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Just one guy with minimal gear whose main goal is to produce songs that sound like things he wants to hear...which, for some reason, no one else has bothered recording yet.
If you like Monkey Typing Pool, you may also like:
Have Some Shame
by don't get lemon
Gutsy New Romantic synthpop from Austin, Texas with hooks and heartache galore.
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Apr 23, 2024
go to album
AMARGO
by Nina Maia feat. Chica Barreto
featured on Bandcamp Radio Apr 23, 2024
go to album
Dreamy indie rock a la Duster/Sparklehorse with interesting with dynamic shifts and subtle hooks to keep things moving along.
go to album
Miranda Winters of Melkbelly assembled an all-female band for this solo LP of alt-rock rippers chronicling youth decay and adult complexity.
go to album
Four Singles
by Operator Music Band
Four speaker-melting singles from New York's premiere "live techno" outfit, descended from vintage synthwave, deep house, and dance punk.
go to album
Off-kilter Portland indie rockers make an unexpected return with a tight three-track EP, their first new release in 12 years.
go to album
