Life Is No Way To Treat An Animal

by CZAR

supported by
/
  • Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

     $7 USD  or more

     

1.
02:20
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
01:01
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
03:30
15.
16.
05:02
17.
01:29
18.
02:04
19.

credits

released January 20, 2017

tags

license

all rights reserved

feeds

feeds for this album, this artist

about

CZAR Tacoma, Washington

Progressive noise metal band from Tacoma, WA.


Watch our music video for "Never Shoot the Pilot" at:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xEnVdkrUNJ8

contact / help

Contact CZAR

Streaming and
Download help

Shipping and returns

Redeem code

Track Name: Owls, etc
There's a man in the back,
You can only see his face when the lights flicker.
Lightning hair, oily hands, and a hunger that's quite sinister.
Garmonbozia!
(The pain and sorrow)
A separation of hand and heart.
Remove the arm.
He has to catch her
Evading capture.
Sex appeal like a small town murder,
Mouth agape with backward murmurs
sleepless nights and cocaine fight or flight
Alright? Alright. Alright.
I too have been touched by the devilish one
A separation of hand and heart.
A separation of hand...
Track Name: Too Many Yetis
I had a brain once,
But I let Dracula have sex with it.
Now, all I've got is a bowl of cereal,
And the milk is getting warm.
I'm afraid to dip my palms in,
Or lap it up,
For fear of the vomit promised
When my teeth divorce.
Track Name: Arachnochondriac
I'm not afraid of the scars I can see.
This fear is an anchor, and it's very real to me.
Yes, I've heard that 'Fear is the mind-killer',
But I left my courage in the wine cellar.
Nauseating insect, my skin grows crisp and black.
Self Diagnosis: Arachnochondriac.
Head wounds and seizure dreams
Of a pain-thieving fever-fiend.
Tunnel vision kaleidoscoping as
Anxiety multiplies
Met with misguided
Eyerolls and exaggerated sighs.
Trash breathers,
Shaking wet hands.
My despair an obvious
Inconvenience, in spite of all of their plans.
(Oh! Unconditional Fear)
They'll you that you can use them as a lifeline,
But they'll make you promise not to pull too hard.
Ah, what use is a Fairweather Savior?
Metamorphosis complete: I have become a burden.
A pharmaceutical fetishist on eight trembling legs.
Emergency!
The doctor crouched on all fours, reptilian in stench and posture.
Licking my eyerolls, cherry red bandages, and hardened husk of skin,
"You look so elegant in your hospital gown, with your splints, casts, and bandages holding you down... but you taste so sour and self absorbed. No. Lick your own wounds."
Lick
Your
Own
Wounds
But I don't have a tongue behind my mandible, so I can't lick my own wounds.
I'm not afraid of the scars I can see
But the scars behind my eyes are very frightening.
Medicated numbness drips intravenously.
Shrugging off the need for this dirty sympathy,
I've found
Frailty is Beautiful.
Intensive care is Sexy.
Track Name: Antelope Mask
<methane>
Track Name: Beware the Flies, Orestes
Scream my words again.
My blood on you lips and fingers
doesn't mean shit. Can you feel it?
Those stolen burdens?
Don't you feel so dirty?
Don't you feel so wrong?
The sound of my screams.
It's so fucking yours.
I'll just keep screaming.
Screaming like a Pelican
with a broken wing.
Wading in the water.
I dreamt of a plane crashing
into the sea. It's going down.
Step into the ocean
and you will sink too.
Drowning you know,
the towers are falling.
They're falling like you.
I want you to know.
I want you to see.
I want you to feel.
The tragedy I am.
I am the end of the world.
Track Name: Vultures Never Eat In Peace
"There is no feast without cruelty",
Said one vulture to another.
"If you're not here to make love, you had better leave my bedroom with your cold sweat and kitchen knife".
"There is no feast without cruelty"
"I don't have the stomach for surrender"
"Only cowards live forever"
From behind a mushroom cloud of menthol smoke, She had her Armageddon eyes on my dirty denim jeans. I thought I found religion in her thighs, but when I came to, I had a knife in my ribs
And with Pangs of remorse I bit down on the belt of pride and took another lashing from the shame bane.
(Trade masks. Exchange knives.)
I am disgusted with my condition.
I am Dorian Gray. I am the immoralist.
I demand love of the highest order and I drain those around me, leaving them with nothing.
I am superficial.
I am vain.
I am disdainfully capricious.
I corrupt.
"People allow themselves to be corrupted. We are all villains as well as victims"
Maybe, but then what?
Trade masks?
Exchange knives?
It's so easy to damage. My self portrait is a mugshot. Trade masks.
Exchange Knives.
No feast without cruelty.
If I pick my own bones clean, there will be none for which the rest can feed.
(There's still another vulture)
hunger pains consume all who seek the vulture's throne.
Strike when the iron is hot.
Know your exit.
History and I repeat ourselves, and I quote,
"I'll bring my two faces back together again. Even if I have to learn how to sew"
Trade masks.
Exchange knives.
No feast.
Cruelty.
Track Name: The Worm Enters the Moon
The King of the Moon has lost his head
He comes around
Tipping his bullshit crown
All hail the King
The cockroach arrives with his favorite lines
He smiles and lies.
Track Name: Canine: No Eyes. Just Teeth.
"Perfect Strangers" has a nice ring to it.
We're flawless just before we open our mouths.
Now, I'm not suggesting we suppress our ideas.
Far from.
I'm just not convinced of the brilliance contained in our existential vomit.
Pick through the puke, I suppose? But there is only so much time to lose.
The tongue moves faster than the mind can race, and it's just your style to shoot first and never quite get around to asking the questions.
Firing blanks atop a high horse.
Opinions mistaken for TRUTH.
We said it, and that is the proof.
Megaphone mouths, tales to tell, ready for the press!
But it's all black in on black paper.
There is no message.
We are the anti-message,
And I'm still death in conversation,
So stop trying to shoehorn my misanthropy into your classifications of judgement.
I see white devils dancing like pale, potbellied imps,
singing, "Viva, Lost Innocence!"
And how I loathe the armchair activists and apocalypse acolytes.
I'm very aware that the sky is falling, but your squawking isn't stopping or stalling this unavoidable outcome.
Oh, your heart is bleeding,
And you've got no reason
Because there's nothing you believe in.
You just want people to know that you're The Good Guy.
So apply more of that elbow grease to that good guy badge
Make that shit shine!
We've usually got eyes to see
But you don't see
you've got
NO EYES.
JUST TEETH.
And those teeth are chattering
Without meaning.
Me too.
Me too.
A stumbling man spills his drink and says,
"you've got a way with words!"
But weigh these words.
I say
AWAY WITH WORDS.
Track Name: Shark Cancer
naked in a room that smells like spit on top of skin
styrofoam-ing out the mouth
put your teeth back in
on your back is where i've got you
but on your toes is where i want you
we sure let the devil get a bad rap
for being the one who taught us how to fuck
we're so fucking good at letting our friends down
I've seen more loyalty amongst thieves
than i've ever seen in friends
unrequited love under busses
fed to the lions
there's blood in the water
sharks pay no mind to the matter of
who drew first blood
Track Name: The Golden Calf
We had nosebleed seats at the crucifixion, so we'd just as soon drink in the parking lot.
Where we met a slick talking bible salesman, who said,
"Don't you know that god is dead? But you've got that look! You'll be making headlines and the cover of the Holy Book!"
(Martyrdom bought and sold.
Patented and collected.
Restocked, and forgotten with the next shipment)
The second coming went triple platinum.
New Jesus with the pricetags on
posable, disposable messiah
Hold your applause for the false prophet.
This graven image
At which I stare
Is "in his image"
If I should care.
Enlightenment brushed my lips, but my tongue never tasted it's virginity.
No more Sphinxes.*
No more Riddles.
I looked. I pried.
I prodded.
I didn't have a third eye.
Just a new hole
in my head.
They'll just keep fucking the cash cow until it stops coughing up quarters.

*note: the proper plural form of Sphinx would be Sphinges, but that just sounds silly, doesn't it?
Track Name: Mister Reindeer
Fate sits in a dark room
Crooked fingers counting
Rubbing two coins together
Silver as the devil's scripture
the rain slicks the ground like blood in black and white.
Violence measured in miles per hour
In this lipstick criminal moonlight.
Up ahead, a neon sign screams, "BREED!"
as I recall orgasms on pink sheets.
My girl fortune,
She left home
with a suitcase
and a gun
Just to serve
Hatesex on the beach
At the Dead End Hotel
No Vacancy
No Vacancy
No Vacancy
There's a salacious convention at the gates of hell.
(No Vacancy)
I mean Texas.
The inconsistencies of our alibis stretch forever outward,
Like the cracks in our windshield.
I keep chancing glances at the blonde riding shotgun
With angel eyes staring bright into headlights.
Thinking we lived our lives like mistakes, just waiting to happen.
Unsmoked cigarettes burn to ash at our knuckles.
The sky has since dried it's eyes and assumed the color of a half-healed bruise.
Dawn comes and goes.
Just keep driving towards the sun, til I go blind, or burst into flames.
Night falls every now and again with startling frequency.
The last moon hung in my head for three whole days.
Worms and all.
The world is flat and we're trying to find an edge.
We know HOW the world ends, just not WHERE the world ends.
There's a factory at the edge of town that can manufacture this "elephant in the room"
or is it more of an elephant graveyard?
If love is alone
Regret is in tow
This road never ends
So I'll drive really slow.
Brick by brick
and stone by stone
We'll make a home
Of this yellow brick road.
A phone rings in the desert
rubbing two coins together
But the voodoo wives are gnawing at the bone
One last wink of a silver dollar
"Fuck me"
Forever sleep....
The guilt like cold breath
on our necks
Phantom ropes tighten as
The hangman's watch ticks.
Buckle up and drive again.
Fate sits in a dark room
With a haggard hand
That keeps moving peace
Just out of reach.
Track Name: You Were a Comatose Lion
If I'm not a fool by midnight
Someone will take my place
Remove the crown,
Fill it with change
And pass it around
The whiskey werewolf took the silver bullet.
I wouldn't ask you to be your brother's keeper
But must you ALWAYS act as his enabler?
In the land of the blind, the greatest liar is king
So keep tipping your bullshit crown
In the land of chicken livers and missiles, the cockroach is king
All hail the King.
The Cockroach arrived
With his favorite lines
He smiled and lied.
He said, "when you exorcise your demons, you're killing off the greatest parts of yourself!"
And I believed him.
Oh, I believed him.
To my unborn children,
You will be held accountable for all of your past lives, false starts, and failed tries.
All hail the King.
Track Name: Wine Hog
'Cause I don't
Want to be forgotten
I want to be so known
When I'm buried and rotten
I want to be so cold
I won't be forgotten
The best way to leave a mark is to carve it out
The balding mothers with weak bladders warn about a certain kind of man
His heart is as black as his liver
He'd sell you all down the river
And he wouldn't even ask for much
The best way to leave a mark is to carve it out
I won't forgive.
I won't forget.
So don't forgive.
So don't forget.
The best way to leave a mark is to carve it out.
Choices:
anonymity or a legacy of tryanny
Track Name: x̌ʷiqʷadiʔ
<to sing this song, you must speak the language>
Track Name: Blind Mice
I did not RSVP
To the pity party
So kindly remove
My name from
The gift registry.
So melancholy,
But at least
I wear my misery
Gracefully.
Color me troubled
But spare me
The train wreck.
Stuck saying
"Let the lost
Get lost"
&
"Learn to enjoy losing"
Color me troubled but spare me the train wreck.
I'm already miles from home
Can't imagine a better place to be
Never a dull moment
When you rewrite
Your own history
Adrift on a sea of vagueness
And these idle hands
Are groping me
Into another
Longwinded backstory
We're no better
We're no worse
We're no worse for wear
We're no better
We're no worse
We're no worse for where
We are
But we're worse for where
We aren't
Let the lost
Stay lost
(With a head full of booze and less than choice narcotic, I don't agree with your words, but your voice is so hypnotic)
Let the lost
Stay lost
The old haunts
Have lost their spirits
If the corners of time
Could collect dust
We'd be up to our gills
In mites.
Kids these days
Live fast
Die fast
Leave a fast fucking corpse
The old dead
Must make way
For the young dead
And let the lost
Stay lost
The old dead
Must make way
For the young dead
I set these wheels in motion
Knowing the tracks led straight to a wall
I could jump ship
With no consideration
For anyone at all.
Derail! Derail! Derail! Derail!
Once again
I put down
The death wish
I'm pretty sure
Hell can wait
I'm still tossing
My heart and chasing
With my eyes
Closed.
Track Name: RxABBITS
Scabs at best
The bar is low.
So low.
Low enough to crawl right in
With strange bed fellows and bedsores.
Bedfellows. Bedsores.
Bedfellows
Burnt spoons on the bathroom floor
Bedsores
Donations on the bedside drawer
Deadbeat side-street call-girl conundrum
Fishnet spit-wet call girl conundrum
Feed the tail to the snake in this self-deluding game
I refuse to aid the hand of a payphone fuck drone
While you perpetuate this cycle of abuse. This cycle of misuse.
And feed the tail to the snake in this self-deluding game
In between acts you sob like it matters.
Rinse. Repeat.
Lightbulb to lips you sob like it matters.
Rinse. Repeat.