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Roar Out the Hiss

by Cash Crop

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1.
Gulick approaches Nesmith, inquiring of new forms; of competitive displays, physical but all-indoors; winter's start of ninety-one, Springfield was in for some change; yet was not where Jimmy found the finest team to play the game fifty-three at one-thirteen, winter's lows at no degrees Page ditches Ontario, gets tenured at McDougall; takes the reins of the girls' squad, wipes the floor with other schools; post-ceremony are dubbed Commercial Graduates Club; five years gone with no respite, outside world given the shove edge before it got flattened straight, nix on romance, sucks to dates Dorothy Daisy Connie Winnie Eleanor and Nellie winning; Shamrocks plucked and then discarded, Knits unraveled brokenhearted; but where are the biopics the books the tapes the interviews; where is the anniversary parade footage on the news have you had Olympic gold denied to you when it was owed; six-to-one in foreign lands, earning worth with yr two hands; has yr familial pride been judged ignored and cast aside; have you vanquished all yr foes with victory sharing their woes differences become divides, injustices endorsed with pride can you eat sleep dream work breathe yr whole life as just one thing; can you narrow yr focus to just one point of interest; can you handle constant stress while no one cares about yr best; can you fade out completely, into nothing, not even memory social disappearances, historical revisions more than likely we're just dying eating sleeping multiplying; headcount numbers at the pyre will not help to increase the size of yr fire; but maybe the people near you remember and dearly miss you; so yr post-death reputation ain't empty documentation
2.
punctured through and ruptured as a stillborn maidenhead; stigmatic carved apart and torn with millennial dread; disparate de facto split apart in feuding clans; futures buckled failing in alignment with the plans download queue stuffed to the gills with rarities galore; a soundtrack for walking to work while not waging the war; is there terrorism in this city to be found; the rebel youth have got the wardrobe but cannot find the sound lifestylists find their souls are incomplete; but it's pure resources they all now deplete 仕返し そろ ズ, シベ して 暮れる swiping some old boring riffs for some new boring songs; we're hardly la vie bohème neither rhapsodies nor gongs; you might not know how to battle though you sure got the pose; but how are you fighting for freedom in too-tight pre-torn clothes I could be yr Osama and you'd be my Khalid; I could be yr Ian and then you could be my Guy; I could be yr Terry Nichols, you my Timothy; I could be yr Corin and then you'd be my Carrie rolls across the toms used to be bombing runs; now pick scrapes never make me want to buy guns 其の 手 和 個 rifles shot to clear the blues; of me not being on the news
3.
so you say you want to be my hero, never thought you were going to need a backbone; I know the future's scary but the past's regrets are bracing; while it's true you may never get what you're owed, you whine a lot for ain't never having worth shown; why do anything if nobody is watching, why be anything if no one is applauding will this solve the polar debate (I'm a concerned citizen); will you make it back okay (maybe one of yr children); will this bring the people back in (now I'm a politician); will this venture get in the black (I'm protecting investments) now you shift to shit, you give yr second best; as you syncopate you organize the sycophants; lying through yr teeth, you wish to unattempt; it's a poor excuse to exercise the intellect are you sure of yr calculations, do you understand proper preparations; have you tested the ballast, are you sure that you can balance; major packing job for minor personnel doesn't seem to make any of my worries quell; just one single route you don't even know, once we're north to south how can you tell which way to go (will it be going down at snow) (or watching where the currents flow) (or wherever the wind may blow) can't tell "the shit" from shit, string up some hollow words; a gasping ape for cred, it's more pathetic than before; congratulations void as you seem to forget; we all observed you transform trebuchets to tourniquets; we'll die here on the tundra; thanks to yr false pride and bluster; nothing left to prove as we're withering; every try we took been blown away to smithereens wake me up when they come thaw out my bones; make me see something that makes me wish I hadn't froze now we're in museums for the kids to see, we're on display, immodest antiquities; now we're lessons learned for the younger set, not to undertake what you aren't ready for yet; now we're photographs to remind our peers, please make certain that the evident risks are clear; now we're buried deep in some unmarked graves, only fitting after the mistakes we've made
4.
last time we spoke, our communication broke down before first terms could be met; for someone with so much on yr mind I thought you might feel something much more than upset; wouldn't be the last, wouldn't be the end of me, wouldn't be the rest, wouldn't be finished; wouldn't be the best, compared to the worst of me, remaining upright is all you should ask less of a poet, more of a clerk; less of a liar, more like a jerk haven't seen the worth in being reductionist, haven't done the math, can't equate the gains; couldn't find the means, can't measure the consequence, couldn't hide the blight of the circumstance; haven't covered up, all facades are trembling, another drained account, another belly swells; can't help but explain, or correctly make excuses, mapping new topography for atlases of hell hasn't been found, can't be replaced, broken the means in all our haste; dove through the waves, hasn't been cleansed, won't be removed, not seen again
5.
every flight of fancy comes from someplace once deemed odd; by ethnocentric European culture demagogues; is it trite to make comparisons to bolts and cogs; all the boulevards have blockades, strolls have turned to slogs everything at rest will be made to dance; every best laid plan will be left to chance now it's lost but not forgotten, felt but out of reach; not devalued just obsolete forms of currency; name two words that churn more guts than "fiscal policy"; like there's any difference between hidden and unseen every broken heart given new romance; every restrained force given carte blanche bones bleached out, overexposed to the sun; maybe myths are the only frontier; rusted shut, useless broken gun; hateful as an ocean blue and clear
6.
we can learn sinning from Chet if he will help us to do the waltz; we can mask the near-constant odor of brimstone with expensive sets of smelling salts bless you for wisdom and judgment; our two most heavenly things; bless you for giving us courage; and for a reason to sing we can take one in the hand and three in the heart and still play; we can find demons in bottles, plenty of them left to slay; we can find blame where you want it, label our own as disease; we can make rockets of racecars, transforming targets of trees; what kind of love is a taking that's steeped in low irony
7.
I will let you walk in front in case there is a trap; I wouldn't want to miss you getting caught; I will let you blaze a trail, I will let you make a name; and when it all turns to shit, I will let you take the blame place my corpse in welcome ground if I should die today; bring me more Pacific coastlines to annihilate I'll be worth my weight in gold I will let you take yr time, I'll hold out for years; I will let you delist me, I too would forget that I'm here; I will let you burn me out, I can't love nor can I fear buy me off with floats and marches, ditch recovery; insult me with travel costs and weapons maintenance fees; future planned as interviews and books shilled on TV I'll be worth my weight in posture and courtesy, I'll be worth nothing that you would want to be; I'll be worth my weight in remorse and discipline, I'll be worth nothing of any significance who the hell are you to say that my war has to end today; I haven't started fighting yet and that's as far as I can get
8.
can a rifle make a sound that isn't somewhat ominous; if true feet will carry you then god forbid explain the rush; in sprinting away from bullets that only tag scandalous; murderers and rapists we can convict with no evidence follow the sound, follow me down how can there be any justice with no truth bothered dug up; how can there be any justification for what you've done; you should drop yr badges so you could be a proper lynch mob; then you could be tactless with my body when my soul is gone my spirit carries the burdens of hopeful, Panama to the Mason-Dixon Line; I will be cursed, I will be damned, for the failures of the "civilized" please understand that I didn't die so you could achieve a blessing for schemes; do not pray to me, don't resurrect me, unless you're prepared to wipe the slate clean

credits

released October 16, 2012

Recorded by: Cash Crop | Mixing: Tim Davis

Cash Crop is Curtis, Josh, and Charlie
cashcropca@gmail.com | www.cashcropca.com

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Cash Crop Costa Mesa, California

Costa Mesa CA, power trio, noise-punk, etc.

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