All synths except drums and beats are my new VST, Simple Microtonal Synth.
Music, words: Michael W. Dean
Voice: Phil Wormuth
Take, eat, this is my body.
When you honked the horn but your alias was bogus and peddled it far and wide.
You told me that she died in heaven while there are no other ways.
So I slept for 19 hours.
I got six cents in my pocket but the Devil she was smart and won’t last the day.
Pawn your bass and leave me in the middle of too much Berlin, with the band screaming at me. I started writing this record in my mind on the spot at that moment.
I made several attempts to form a blinded begging lame for Oktoberfest
Birds nailed everything down in the road in protest. What a ride!
The Final Cut to instantaneously reinvent myself to write, film, web, and shoot
When I made those promises of tolls for the holy Jesus cross in the back room where they keep the beer.
She got everything from the Superintendent of Intergalactic Prairie Studios. He got her to confesses the cold war rust belt snowy town in shimmering rainbow shadow trails in the corner of my vision.
Eventually, you can give yourself to the cats. Take, eat, this is my body.
The cats eat me, then will reinvent me in the circle of life.
She will slowly, methodically show this song to a lot of people including me
It came from years in recording studios or those cats that shut down heaven and we were so alive we almost died.
But you my friend are why I had a glass in my hand
And thinking I was right, she said the Devil as long as it is. Look! The glass is now in your hand!
When the drugs were gone, she found another way.
And we were committed not to be seen resulting in insurance claim complaints, for it took a couple years for the guys to access by man via primitives
Watching them watch their own reflection.
DYNAMICS! Intentionally of what it means to be a human being. So alive we almost left us
and thinking its timeless brilliance will let you fall in love with the way to be.
When an artist refuses to explain their lyrics, or at least PRINT the lyrics, it means they’re not very confident in what they do.
Saying “My lyrics are too personal” or “I want each listener to have their own interpenetration” is a cop-out…an excuse.
The lyrics in this are a cut-up of a couple pages of some earlier BipTunia lyrics (from the BipTunia lyric cut-up generator), and cut-ups of my novel, so literally don’t have much meaning. But also have thoughts about how I’ll probably be eaten by my cats some day after I die tripping over a black cat in the dark. And it may well be a religious experience for the cats