1. |
Inaction
06:44
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My mind is my body's greatest threat,
pushing toward destruction if I’m not there yet.
All desire for change has been for nought.
The ozone is filled with my perished thoughts.
The sky is an ocean, and I have drowned.
There's no place to breathe that I have found.
The sky is an ocean, and I have drowned;
anchored by inaction to this dead ground.
Expectations are my open sores.
My better dreams bleed out onto the floor;
evaporating into mist, and floating away
into the ether where they remain.
The sky is an ocean, and I have drowned.
There's no place to breathe that I have found.
The sky is an ocean, and I have drowned;
anchored by inaction to this dead ground.
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2. |
End To End
06:24
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Blood in our veins, thoughts in our brains,
bodies in chaos with atoms arranged…
Pulses and waves, controllers and slaves…
Everything's one, and yet none are the same.
What was here at the start, before it all pulled apart —
when there was no schism, and no division
between science and art?
We've been programmed, yet somehow demand
answers to our thirst to know what came first:
work? Or the worker's hands?
End to end, break — don't bend.
Fall apart and start again.
Zeros and ones, or saliva and bones…
Trillions of cells combined somehow feel alone.
With eyes unpeeled, what if the big reveal
is the masterstroke of an endless joke:
our lives were never real?
End to end, break — don't bend.
Fall apart and start again.
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3. |
Burning Light
04:19
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Hours are excercise
for the will to stay alive;
from the countless ticking of the hands,
to the falling granules of the sand.
All the while, uncertainty
of what could bring some joy to me
keeps me frozen in my place
with the same dead look upon my face.
The books, the films, the sounds, the sights
used to fill me with delight.
Imagination knew no end;
now boredom weighs me down again.
Someone deceased that I once read
wrote "There's something to be said
for being dead", but I don't know.
If the dead could speak, would he still say so?
I wish a force would tear the sky,
and drown the earth in burning light.
I need to know what lies beyond
the earth, the cup, the sword, the wand.
I wish a force would tear the sky,
and penetrate my covered eyes
with blinding, piercing, burning light,
and gift me with the truest sight.
Knowledge is more powerful than money.
Knowledge is more valuable than power.
Knowledge is the key to unlock all this and more,
though it can change the taste from sweet to sour.
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4. |
Remain
04:49
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The deepest layer of your person
seats a core that absorbs blame.
When you stray from your idea of perfection,
it binds itself in chains
while a different you remains.
You remain.
In the moments of your trials,
I wish I'd been there to say:
“It's fine to feel down and to fall,
but please don't go away.
Please don't go away.
Please remain.”
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5. |
Lost Again
04:37
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At the birth of the day,
my perspective bends
with the rising sun
as the silver moon descends.
I’m getting lost in the woods,
the forest of my mind
has overgrown the memories
and tangled thought in kind.
At the birth of the night,
the sun's dying rays
scatter through branches
and instantly fade.
The dark takes its place
and slowly starts to climb;
an inky jet sea
that rises with time.
Black blanket covers earth.
It's impossible to know
if my eyes are open,
or how long they’ve been closed.
I look to the heavens
in hope to find my bearing.
Isolation is taxing,
and the confusion is wearing.
I imagine you standing
under these same stars,
and their light would draw me forward
to lead me where you are.
The sun would fully rise
as the darkness shrinks away,
and we'd hold each other tightly
to herald a new day.
I am lost again;
without you I'm nowhere:
no place to call home,
and no life left to share.
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6. |
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Winter is approaching,
and with it comes the snow
as many creatures tunnel earth
to hide themselves below
to live another season,
to carry out their tasks.
But, coming up another year
may be too much to ask.
The bees have their honey; the locusts have the leaves.
Earthworms have the dirt, but the dirt, it has me.
Spring will someday follow,
but something that I know
is that not everything
can outlast this year's snow.
The insects shall return,
the grass may see new birth,
but it will take a special rain
to pull me from the earth.
The bees have their honey; the locusts have the leaves.
Earthworms have the dirt, but the dirt, it has me.
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7. |
The Somnambulist
05:22
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I bathed myself in milk, and dried in the moon's rays.
Then I went out walking to the city where you stay.
I stood outside your window until you fell asleep,
and tapped at the frame to bring you out to me.
You rose very slowly and found me there outside.
Without a single word we began to take our stride.
We travelled in the moonlight with a special route in mind.
Trudging through the blueish snow, our bodies were aligned.
We were walking in the snow,
but things took a turn.
We were just outside the city.
Only you returned.
Only you returned.
My skin looked so beautiful covered with glistening ice,
lying there for hours just below your empty eyes.
Shortly before sunrise, your matter disappeared.
My frozen lips couldn't beg you not to leave me here.
We were walking in the snow,
but things took a turn.
We were just outside the city.
Only you returned.
Only you returned.
Only you returned.
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8. |
Two Minds
05:20
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The idea is not human;
it spun its own cocoon
deep inside my mind
like the scab over a wound:
emerging much later
as a different kind of thought,
leading me to a stranger path
than the one that I was taught.
A purpose so inspiring
now fills me full of dread.
A desire that once pushed me
now pulls me down instead.
What happened to the old me
when the new form took control?
Did it decompose in time,
or slip inside some hole?
It's laughable, metamorphical,
not human, less than animal...
It wraps me up inside.
It's laughable, metamorphical,
not human, less than animal...
It takes shape behind my eyes.
It's laughable, metamorphical,
not human, less than animal...
It spreads wings and it flies.
It's laughable, metamorphical,
not human, less than animal...
I remain, and I die.
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9. |
Sanctuary
02:56
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Nail me to the earth, one soul, one blood,
feeding the forest with my life.
Vines twisting above me--
a canopy of fractured starlight
over my troubled mind.
Populating the forest with poetry and memories,
I crawl out of my body,
bury my old self under the leaves,
and walk away new from my sanctuary.
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10. |
A Body In The Brush
07:00
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Too much to think leads to senility,
creating new trails in the forest of the mind;
losing the way home with no trace of footprints —
a body in the brush that no one shall find.
I marked myself
and left a stain.
I marked myself
and felt the change,
so as not to be lost
in the folds of my mind;
so as not to be lost
in the syntax of our time.
The scent of burning brush fills my nostrils.
The air is too thick, but it's sweet just the same.
I've lost my way home, with no sense of self,
a body in the brush that hasn't a name.
I marked myself
with a secret word.
I marked myself;
I'm now defined,
so as not to be lost
among the guilty;
so as not to be lost
in the syntax of our time.
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Plasticstatic Walla Walla, Washington
Plasticstatic started in 1997. Their newest album, A Body In The Brush, was released on December 21, 2020.
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