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Jawbox




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Jawbox Album



1992
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unhealing incisions, path that turns vicious,
a recurring sequence or an unbroken line,
it makes no difference to the one that's analyzed,
it's all fate so be resigned.
converging to unfortunate ends,
all plots acknowledged and denied,
convey awareness of upcoming goodbyes
what's the difference to the one that's analyzed
it's all false so be resigned.
cutoff

. . .


here's a game that self-destructs
when it's properly set into motion
saves you the effort, it breaks on it's own
perspective is gone; you're watching it sliding away
let it slide
stark and empty place
let it slide
into regained space
here's a simple way to
increase the speed of white similacrum
force-feed the reel onto shattered projection
such a good picture, clear-cut tracking this time
and this is not so hard to take
until the game's in time and place
and this is not so hard to take
until the reel can fit the space

. . .


triggers fast, distracting rhythm plays
checks and balances, the easy life
finish last on odds they'd never lay
uneasy silences, the easy life
some say history's best made secretly
these green bones may break
maybe flesh needs new bones anyway

nothing shines in your eyes
concede my oversight
blue light burns bright inside
a beautiful disguise

sitting back to view the disarray
explained to satisfy the easy life
abreaction to the senseless fray
painful questions for the easy life

every minute's test of our possessions
leaves us with obsession that pushes the extreme
sleep in the nation's arms is dreamless
seamless information soothes as they constrict
clinging to the truth of doctrine so no shots are fired blindly

. . .


tourniquet binds, tether reminds, clean but confined to eyes
carceral time, brutal refined, distractions define
turn on channel 3
returning to find, numbers assigned, a view misaligned, sold off
a fuse in the rain, a small piece attained, a lesson ingrained

. . .


in precious little circles thoughts run races
dead in the water, black and still
drowning in downsize none finish first
no stars get us out of this hold
slow down, just two are left
i see your smile shine red in the silence
it's laughing at me, one of us is next
is this real life, less end line
when all is done and said
a slip-step cracked my skull
i think, spirals down
a slip-step cracked my skull
i think spirals down the brain
they burned the smiles off the sideways
made it my fortune to watch it all happen
be sure we're still going nowhere
they retch an apology for necessity
but my blood still swims inside
they rumble for more but i won't make the next cut
spiral goes sideways in or out
ragged heels scrape up the pavement
read a line off the kick in the breeze

. . .


a finishing blow for a company man
while sleeping tight passed hand to hand
inbound until you're canned
then hidebound fact slips like sand
a finishing blow for the company man
time passes through a loop
self-trained for burning hoop
spoonfed and proudly stooped
too low to see the linkwork
some cut holes some got bricked in
and you've got nothing more to say
red hand grip slips on cold links
i saw you try to climb your way

. . .


you strained to find a lesson
now just ignore it
hold on to your heart
but there's no use for it
just go loose, choose not to choose
staring at that window
maybe i'm asking for it
if this is so far gone
why try to restore it
with smile well-maintained, all truth aside
i'm well entertained, i'll stay along for this ride

. . .


i sunk my eyes in static
you taught me how to see it
now there's no sign of you at hand
so i stop looking at it
my head is splitting trying
to read the name that you abandoned
congratulations sister
you put yourself right over
though you don't think i understand
this sudden awkward rupture
this stuck-unhealing fissure
no love could possibly withstand
and i'd never say
it doesn't mean that much to me
glad anyway
to see you struggle free
pinned down but unexamined
though you kept right on looking
at static there behind my eyes
keep pushing one-way vision
i guess at least it's something
since everything is so compromised

. . .


real time, is this real time
or am i just top standby
watching ceiling lines
studying blank signs
downtime, is this downtime
but we're fixing nothing
just watching plate and fire
that burn first touching
annealing until flame's beyond concern
revealing what's only fit to burn
if this was all mine
any test would be fine
but flames just burn lines
so all i want is to resign
memory spit-bite wipe it clean
but i need a solvent that's stronger
what passes these lips is so binding
drawing one to another

. . .


i've got this syllable sickness
called the six-second blues
no doubt quixotic talk has been subsumed
send down one last time
that last send down didn't cut it
send down one last time
breathe in deep and then you shut it
i danced with serial madness
bend down and scraped the ground
if this series has a pattern, i foun it

. . .


swallow dictation
repeat formation
reverse this fortune
bring back tongue-tooth daughter

(Chorus)
love-struck ink runs farther
unstuck tongues cannot regain
love-struck ink runs farther
unstuck tongues cannot regain
so find another way to go
so find another way to go

fork tongue-tine
pierce armor
print love-struck ink runs farther

this separation
demands six sutures there
from tongues to patient
blood runs spit glues it down

love-struck ink runs farther
unstuck tongues cannot regain
love-struck ink runs farther
unstuck tongues cannot regain
so find another way to go
so find another way to go

written in fracture
in leaves of entrails bled
split trigger lip split hair
shes bred in tongues (tongues)
tongues cannot regain
tongues cannot regain
tongues cannot regain
tongues cannot regain

. . .


Turning over
Ones and zeroes
Sifting ashes
No one here knows

Virtual paradise
Virtual paradise

You can only hear your own
Senseless screaming
Signifying nothing
Proud father beaming

Virtual paradise
Virtual paradise

Virtual paradise
Virtual paradise

. . .


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