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Produced: Ross Robinson
Mastered: Alan Douches
Mixed: Jan Kerscher

Sapien Records Ltd


released October 21, 2013

Produced: Ross Robinson
Mastered: Alan Douches
Mixed: Jan Kerscher

Sapien Records Ltd



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Track Name: This Better Be Life Threatening Norman
Channelling frustration, guess I’ve made my bed.
Draws the mist in, a persistent advantage.
Show me the steps, the tricky footwork that often helps.
This was confessed, routine addiction in Sunday best.
Bottles with no lids, we are not lucid or pretending.
Track Name: Starting Strength
Letting down the side, I’ve got my fears to hide. Go there on my own, never to come home, and it’s not getting late so you can fucking wait. Not your turf anymore now we’ve evened up the score. Told to be patient but just couldn’t wait. Getting complacent ahead of the game. They paint quite a picture, but aren’t you tired?
Not yet retired. Beaten black and blue, I see myself in you. This curse expires today. I’m gona go another way. What’s left to protect that scares you half to death? You agreed the truce. Your hands tied the noose.
Track Name: Class of 94
Young Jimmy just can’t play by the rules. Little Lisa cries cuz her Daddy’s a fool.
Big Kevin’s makeup is running again, and loose Lucy can’t stop fucking her friends.
Cautious Rick shot himself in the foot. Honest Jill disappeared with the loot.
Party time Sue says always have fun, and her friend Stephen just purchased a gun.
I’m not so comfortable with this. Mid air is not without its risks.
Preaching to choir and throwing stones too near to the glass house that I own.
I take the piss.
Track Name: Bunch of Fucking Mutants
Take it as a compliment wrapped up in irrelevance. Punch my face in discontent cuz I hear the future’s spent. Is that so? Time creeping me, begging to forgive you, but have I got the strength or the resolve that could make it all up to you. So when the summer comes you know you. You know you could swing from the bottom rung, and so you should.
Track Name: Sucker
So your big mouth lost you your face, and though you can’t see, at least you taste.
But you chipped some good teeth. Living in fiction with a plan of some description.
Now what’s that you’re shovelling? Scientists are yet to invent a unit of measurement small enough that would allow me to explain how little I care.
Oh but I care! Toes creeping close the edge. With eyes on the prize you put me up on this ledge, so I’ll take to the sky. I will see you in the fall.
Track Name: The Moon On A Stick
It’s flowing again tonight. Tortured heads and bleary eyes.
This comfort comes at a price. May get you through, but steal your life.
In droves they came to seal their fate. Eager to please, to consummate.
I’ve felt of late that we must harness our decisions, banish superstitions, accept when there’s answers, then forget everything you’ve ever known.
Track Name: Learning By Doing
An eye for an eye all the time. It’s a conflict I’ve been feeling. It’s a beast that I’ve been feeding. Like when instinct rivals reason, it’s myself that I’ve been pleasing.
We must not comply, point fingers, or try to take splinters from eyes. Realise that we stand on a precipice much larger than any argument. It’s a shame we’re wasting what little time we have breeding hate. Forgotten souls will make us answer in the end, and you will own your fate.
Track Name: Here's Your Shit Sandwich
People have no value here, with policies of greed and fear.
Bills! Cards! House! Cars!
Credit me now so I can add jewels to my crown.
Sell me the earth whilst evaluating my worth.
…I said “So nice to meet you, now it’s time to defeat you”, I said…
Track Name: Flapjack The Ripper
I’m slipping out of my mind and into something more comfortable.
A long walk off a short pier oughta do the trick. Tall tales with long nails, and now they got a grip. If only I knew what I know now I’d make a killing on the filling. I’d be the horse for the course. I’d make a killing on the filling. I could appease my remorse. Be it on your head, on your own head be it. The ones you named, the ones you blamed, bring no comfort to you now. Monkey see, monkey do. Monkey see, monkey do. Monkey see this monkey’s through.
Track Name: Funhouse
I fell to the floor just to get to you. I wanted it more than I dared to say.
I cushioned the blow finding solitude. The déjà vu bitter sweet, blocking my way.
Now I know the ocean is wide and the greener grass ain’t that far away.
But a copy’s a copy regardless. The difference between love and a roll in the hay.
This is another karma breech. The wind swept you off your feet.
This is another day gone by. Too late. Too much to rectify.