by Home Movies

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released April 1, 2012



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Home Movies Toronto, Ontario

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Track Name: Melon Collies
Stirring in his room tonight he’ll get to sleep by noon.
Staring at the ceiling wishing, telejetting it to open up.
Cats and frogs chase melon collies upon stale walls as I wash it all away.

And a crippled head that goes unfed from things unsaid cannot put itself to bed.
Lay in the dark as the darkness sparks the subtle thought that jaws was just a shark.
And I Drill up the nerve to grind my teeth against its own until we shoot sparks.

Parts 1 through 4.
It’s 3 to 1!
In open water.
Just you, me and the fencepost.

AH! This isn’t astral planning.
AH! No I’m not complaining.
AH! This is the only way out.
Way out at this hour.

And I’m tearing out the feathers from the skull within my head.
Stuffing brains deep beneath the pillows on my bed.
Waiting for the ceiling to come on and open up.

Pulled down deep beneath the waves as the stucco ceiling gave.
Track Name: Headlines
Home for a while, wipe away your fears.
Gone like a girlfriend once to dish you all.
Put on a smile, laugh and I’ll be there.
Given you’re a witch that comes with the fall.

Back behind the evergreens, wishing for a wish.
Spiders crawling into my mouth.
Can I blow you a kiss?

Paddle on the water, with our eye to the sky.
Still born baby hanging overhead.
Caught in the claws of the screaming crane.
New ripples tell me that its time for bed.

A hero saves a baby.
And a faggot saves his lady.
Newspaper headlines make me think this way about all the things I am ashamed to say.
Here come the doctors with their vials and there pliers, oh my god!
A.J. Casson and A.Y. Jackson –
Criss crossing wires sort of fucks with me.
But I always liked their work.
Not trying to be a jerk off.
Just saw their shit behind the library.

Over cooked egg spreads itself on toast.
A dead school teacher wins the lottery.
Weird science cures AIDS and the Breakfast Club gains hope.

Lazy mom peeps into her own window.
Poisoned fruits fall in love with mixed health nuts.
Queer bats seek refuge in an open roof cave.
A miserable pizza dude allows extra sauce on half.
And an ex-firefighter gets burned to death by an unattended cigarette mascot.
Track Name: R.I.P.
Salt water on the tip of yer tongue.
There’s a stinging in yer eyes as the tide begins to rise.
Splashing you awake – out there the waves crest and brake.
This uniform adds 100 lbs – soaked and caked against my loins.
And there’s not a grain of juice left in yer body as it washes up the sand.

What coast is this? And didn’t I drown?
Somebody’s watching from atop the stormy cliff.
Could it be the eagle? Or just the ghost of the girl?
Or is it Dick Miller, eroding off the edge?

Resting here in pieces.
Its an American International Picture.
And it was shot in 6 days. R.I.P.
Shot in 6 days. A.I.P.
You were shot in 6 days. R.I.P.
Resting here in pieces.
Track Name: E.C.T. Head
Working hard – nestle your guns.
Strolling child when the darkness comes.
Your memories hide with me but I cant find myself inside of me.

It’s a funny feeling.

Stained glass and a broken cup.
A fuzzy peach all warm and soft.
We’re hiding my shaving blades – we have cautious fears.

It’s a funny feeling.
Spit out yer gum.
Don’t swallow yer tongue.
It’s really simple.
When they Shirley yer Temples.

I love to love you.
It’s a funny feeling.

ECT head.
It’s a funny feeling.
And Liisa Said, “It’s a funny feeling”.
Track Name: BatHouse Sinks
I can’t shake this retarded feeling.
Black mold flowers from a toilet hole on the ceiling.
And the bathouse sinks caulk is cracked and peeling.
I don’t know why I find this all so appealing.

Baba black sheep her fleece can melt snow.
Her tooth holes mirror the problem with our patio stones.
Them apples corrode. Decaying humble abode.
He’s still playing Nintendo by the side of the road.

I’m talking to myself. Bedroom Retreating. (x2)
Talk into myself. Kitchen, quick, fast, feed!
I’m talking to myself.

And I’m always eaves dropping while troughing through tears in the rain.
Shattered darkly through the glass,
Always eaves troughing, dropping tears in the rain.
Swallowed every shard that had the nerve to stare back.
Always eaves dropping and troughing tears in the rain.

SMASH! Nowhere now is where you’ve been.
SPLASH! They’ve changed the sets where you just were.

Track Name: Parasite
Shots exploding tick tock…tick tock.

Everybody wants so bad to be your big star.
Especially the people you think ain’t going far.
You’re taking pictures of yourself with the door left ajar –
it makes me nervous.

Jingle jangle puppets sing, tears till the end.
Catchy, catchy what a game I’ve got to pretend.
You love to be called genius over and over again –
You make me nervous.

I forgot my parachute falling fucking fast.
Life without a parachute skull tomato splat.
I forgot my parachute fucking falling –

And I go outta my mind wishing you were around.

Lately I’ve been watching lots of Hitchcock.
And then Watson said something like, “No shit Sherlock!”

Quit talking down to me about how I should be and how I should live in your world.

Throw me up because,
I forgot my parachute fucking falling fast.
Life without a chair a-chooooo!

And I go outta my mind wishing you were around.
It makes me nervous.
Track Name: Pisstank Serenade
Ovulate the paper – formulate the letter.
Demonstrate the demon – feeling oh so wetter.


Tied up at the luncheon – sucktion special function.
Pirouette the dancer – love you spread the cancer.


Appreciate shitake – dine them to the toilet.
Negotiate a breakdown – splash regard and soil it.


Wash White.
Track Name: Mind Reader
Is this hate or some blissed out state?
Iowa, Idaho – there’s a smell inside yer nose.
Teeth itch, white witch - buying vowels my jowls.
Lost yer health as you wished.

What you need I think they all said you could use a mind reader.
Someone to crawl for you and predict your switch, like a servant bleeder.
I’m just sitting back laughing at how long it takes for you to finally see –

You’d be better off or rather shot-put on, buy a mind reader.
They’d be a step ahead, around every curve, laying down that pampered, patty cake, fake carpet of red.
Then we’d be friends.
Oh goodness! Can we be friends?!

Is this hate or some blissed out state?
Iowa, Idaho – there’s a stink inside yer nose.
Teeth itch, white witch – buying vowels with my jowls.
I lost my health because of this.

You’re such a prickly little pear.
And your stench precedes your air.
Track Name: Black & Blue
Outdoor Scene Take 1.
Garden green earthworm in a dream on a bed of dead leaves.
A couple rows over there’s a murder on the lawn as the school bells sneeze.
Hiding behind the liana vines, the child’s blade soaked to the sleeve.

The soils gone sour, toil away fer hours, make dirt look as good as new.
Peeling back time in my mind through all of this hard work gruel.
Is the spade in the shade or waiting at the gates? A broken arrow or a garden tool?
Losing my marbles as a kid where the body just fell after school.

This can’t be the town to fall in love in.
It has no skyline from where ever you stand.
There’s nothing to look at so you never say to yerselfs.
“Oh yeah! Thank god, there must be some sort of god!”

Getting touchy feely with all of this earth blood, honey, you age like you are wine.
Puzzle piece the shell of this cracked up castle; does a question mark question its spine?
Slowly turning Xanadu back into just a place from a movie in my mind.
It seems to leave me.
Black & Blue.
The green always leaves me, feeling blue.
Black & Blue.
Green turns Black to blue.
Black & Blue.
When an earthworm accidentally becomes two.
Black and Blue tattooed all over you.
Yes I feel - Black and Blue.
When an earthworm screams, “Hi! How are you?”
Track Name: Mondaisy Walks
I notice as I creep through these play doe streets,
the way they display all there front yard scenes,
from the things they dreamed back when we must have been teens.
Green golden sod halo shines like a snot faced blonde cat walking in 5/4 time.
Immaculate lawn mowed dimension, cross cutting but fucked up perfection.
We’re eating snowflakes for desert out in the garage, inside a mirage.
And the front tire backs over the water hose.

Bike ride wet leaves feel like Paul McCartney.
Crash into my dad’s car awake again in Grade 3.
Haircuts twice a week mom insists “You’ll look neat!”
Rolling Stones, Brian Jones, every record on repeat.

She love me, love me knots and she fluff me a mondaisy.
Thinking crazy thoughts doesn’t mean yer crazy.

Sweaty sleep with batteries like teddy bears up against my cheeks.
Double D cell 9V energizing juice leak.
Braces raped my face flocking girls away from me.
Made a perfect smile though, Ho! Ho! Ho! Hee! Hee! SEE?!

Suddenly I see through these broken homes and all what lies at the end of the rainbow.
Childs eye makes all of us so small feeling safe wrapped ‘neath the halo.
Paint across the sky, colours shine and downfall at last it feels great to be at home.

Egging houses at yr. age is really good for yr. health.
Prank call the only girl yr. ever really crazy about.

Caught a hog in Styrofoam, rabies shot all over me.
Asked my mom if I’d die so she spoke, “Gee I don’t know!”
Broken coke I see saw bone 7UP sew tied into me.
What means yer more scared – when you shit or when you pee?!
Track Name: Shot Through the Apples Core
Criss-cross apples shot clean through the core.
Riding your majick waves behind locked doors.

Bed bugs sleep ‘neath all the heads that weep.
Having nightmares as you chase your dreams.

She talked a lot about a roller coaster – rolling over love.
And then I dipped into her Alpha-ghetti got set, got ready, ate god.

I fucked a girl in L.U. from Kenora now I’m feeling ten years old.
Stair gliding with the tip of my nose, six zombies coming from Mope.
You got my heart pegged and Kevin’s is bacon, breaking like a broken egg.
State of grace, make an up-fucked face around the waste of human space.

Show me the way to get home from my house.
Show me the way to get home.
Show me the way to get home from my house –
’cause I’m like romancing a stone.