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Life Is No Way To Treat An Animal

by CZAR

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1.
Owls, etc 02:20
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...
2.
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.
3.
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 tell 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 eyeballs, 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.
4.
<methane>
5.
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.
6.
"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.
7.
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.
8.
"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 ink 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.
9.
Shark Cancer 01:01
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
10.
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?
11.
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.
12.
13.
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.
14.
Wine Hog 03:30
'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 type 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
15.
<to sing this song, you must speak the language>
16.
Blind Mice 05:02
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.
17.
Prawn 01:29
18.
RxABBITS 02:04
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.
19.

credits

released January 20, 2017

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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

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