Jam Dreams

by drmanhattan

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about

LABEL: Cassette Deck Media Conglomerate
PRODUCED BY: Chris Conley

credits

released 18 August 2009

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Track Name: Electraumatized
Surrounded by mannequins. I’m standing on hands and my friends are all standing around me and chanting. I’m panting. Noise box make beep. Four heads peek up. Connection. Correction. Injection. Convection. Blow up. Kablamy smithereens! Controlled. Out of control. Whyyyyyy!?!?!?! In the basement. Where they found me. I feel lucky. (ELECTRAUMATIZED) I am in love. With my best friends. We are happy. Don’t mind me, I’m wreckin’ the joint. I’m not yet inside but that’s just the point. A pistol shoots salt. You’re bug-eyed and I love it. I’m seeing spots. Connect the spots. POLICE FORCE. Correcting me. Correct? Correction: Correcting me. WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Is it working? We are trying to fix you. (ELECTRAUMATIZED) I would like you to be with me. We’d be happy. ELECTRAUMATIZED
Track Name: Texas
You left me for Texas on the same tracks that tricked us. By the blue house. We ate there. It had been one month. Your door bell’s just as muffled but the walkway that we shoveled is now icy. And the longer wait feels much colder. You left me. Now I’m at home where you left me far. Home sweet home. Texas. You left me for Texas and I’m home alone. There’s and indent in the brown couch. I can’t lay there. I am without a goodbye. I hope they like you. You left me. Now I’m at home where you left me far. Home sweet home. Texas. You left me for Texas and I’m home alone. (OH!) You left me for Lonestar. And the gold tops of the buildings. I’d like to burn them down but lift you from the smolder.(LOL) ‘Cause you left me. Now I’m at home where you left me far. Home shit home. Fuck Texas. You left me. For Texas. And I’m home alone.
Track Name: After All
After all we’ve been through I am still in love. After all the things we’ve seen I am still in love. I don’t know what this means but it feels alright for now. I’ll think about the rest tomorrow. ‘Cause when I think about it… Yes. I am still in love. What can one do? I am still in love. What can one do? In weeks of the holiday the cold collects my nerves. I’d like to wrap myself up in arms and cheeks like hers. I don’t know what this means but it feels alright for now. I’ll think about the rest tomorrow. ‘Cause when I think about it… Yes. I am still in love. What can one do? I am still in love. What can one do? (Musical thrash session[a force to be reckoned with]) I am still in love. What can one do? I am still in love. What can one do? It’s trouble to fall to sleep asthe morning comes again. The stars are easy to see as the moon assumes its den. I’d like to kiss you with love. I’d like to hold your hand. It’s strange that we’ve achieved this. To feel like we are not in love. But I am still in love.
Track Name: Mailman
Mailman, whaddya got? Joy. O sweet joys. I made some friends of friendly girls and boys. Amongst all the noise. We fit like two necks. In a ballbasket piece dude. Our necks were on fire. The burn smells like jim-jam after reading a book in one sitting. I took some C.M.T. and couldn’t find my contacts for a week. And they asked us, “Que tu quieres? Cacahautes?” No, no. I’m not hungry. “Well then the smallest sip will do.” Mailman, Whaddya got? Mail? It’s an invite to a long night after a long night and I’m there. Mailman, Whaddya got? Mail? It’s an invite to a JAM DREAM. Oh, I don’t ever wanna wake up. Two lovers embrace. They earned a smashed face. From a couch in a house. He finger-felt her blouse. Naked in the crowds. We ducked out. Into a pantry where a party of potatoes and salted chips broke out. And we do it ‘cause it’s stupid. Yeah we do it. No, no. I’m not hungry. We just do it cause it’s dumb. Mailman, Whaddya got? Mail? It’s an invite to a midnight hike and a log cross. Mailman, Whaddya got? Mail? It’s an invite to a JAM DREAM. Oh, I don’t ever wanna wake up.
Track Name: I'm High
I’ve been collecting dirt since I escaped Wauconda. I love you too. Up all night, I’ll get to you by sunrise. Orange and blue. Telephone. Smells of home. A teasing holiday house. Connects the sap tone to the mouth. O my lady, am I crazy? My appetite’s gone soon. Rapid fire. Yellow-striped. Water-logged paradise. You are warm and I’m clean. Starless night. Home at last. Telephone. Smells of home. A teasing holiday house. Connects the sap tone to the mouth. O my lady, am I crazy? My appetite’s gone soon. Telephone. Smells of home. A teasing holiday house. Connects the sap tone to the mouth. O my lady, I’m not crazy. I’m starving and exhausted but I don’t want to go home. No, maybe I AM crazy. Yeah maybe, I am crazy. My appetite’s gone soon.
Track Name: Cowgirl
You look just like a cow. You should really come with me. We could wreck things with fire. We could lay down and cry by the riots that we’ll inspire. Wait for me on the beige step. Keep your sweatshirt hood up. Play it out like a kidnap. I’ll trap you for the hour. On our way. To the same place. We stayed yesterday in a different town. Meet me in Pennsylvania. I should be there by 12:00. It’s decided. The time. The date. We’re straight. Follow the moon. You look just like a cowgirl in my thoughts on the bench. Skin of butterscotch color. My god, I’m turning red. On our way. To the same place. We stayed yesterday in a different town. You look just like a cowgirl in my thoughts on the bench. Skin of butterscotch color. My god, I’m turning red. I’m turning red.
Track Name: Misses Stewart
(Additional vocals in second verse by Rayley Moskal)

We don’t care about how it gets to
our mouth longs as it’s in our mouth. Misses Stewartx1,000,000. I’m hungry man. A young and thirsty man. I’m chewin’ on his funny money ready steady head, man. Chew on his funny head. What you want is funny meds. I wait to stand in robes. And breathe like Buddha Oms. And be like Rumi sings and see no room for lesser roads. I got the nibbler karma. I used to be a farmer. I moved to where it’s warmer and I’m due to JAM tomorrow. SMILE. We don’t care about how it gets to our mouth longs as it’s in our mouth. Misses Stewartx3,000,000. I’m a woman, satisfied. With thunder smooth thighs. Got an itch on my Ub. Scratch my Oog. Ooga Bugga Boog. Ooga Bugga Boog. Ooga Bugga Boog. Ooga Bugga noodle all the way home. 27 years, declared by law. Women and their boobs still hold in their bra. F that dude. IT’S THE LAW. We don’t care about how it gets to our mouth longs as it’s in our mouth. Misses Stewartx7,080,300,070.
Track Name: Biscuits and Groovy
1, 2, 3, 4. Rollin’ on some rubber bubbles fastened to poles. Climbing up the compass, troubled, as I make my way home. My love is huddled up. Her collegiate soul has a hole just like mine. Yesterday it was full but I had to go. Oh, I’ll be back. How’m I to know when I’ll be back? But when I’m back we’ll go out to a movie. Then we’ll go out to get some BISCUITS AND GROOVY. Biscuits and groovy. The fruit is a smoothie. The chicks are so nudey. To jam is your duty. Biscuits and groovy. On a teeter-tawter wanting that but this then. Like a sticker losing sticky in re-application. I wanna call you up. Talk to you like a friend. But I know within minutes the conversation will end. You’ll have to go. I’ll call you back. You’ll say come home. Not yet I can’t. But when I can. We’ll go out to a movie. Then we’ll go out to get some BISCUITS AND GROOVY. Biscuits and groovy. The fruit is a smoothie. The chicks are so nudey. To jam is your duty. Biscuits and groovy. I am a zombie. I am a zombie from Mozambique. I do stuff. Yeah, I do stuff. Biscuits and groovy. The fruit is a smoothie. The chicks are so nudey. To jam is your duty. Your butt is so booty. Your face is so booby. To jam is your duty. Biscuits and groovy. I do stuff.
Track Name: Listen Up!
You take it from me, and I’ll get it back. You try it again? I’ll cut you no slack. Eeyadda dit day. YEEEEEEEOOOOOUUUUGHHHH!!!!!!
Track Name: Man With a Woman’s Chest
So it is Tuesday. I’ve gotten all my rest. I’m drawing a man. He has a woman’s chest. It came out uneven. But I did my best. He lost his left arm. He is a big mess. Should I be moving on? It’s taking really long. I want a good song. I think I’m all done here. I’m free to roam. We’ve had all our fun here but I don’t wanna go home. And now it’s Wednesday. I wear a dirty shirt. It’s been a whole day. My chin skin hurts. I keep on doodling. I need to get to work. My friends will ask me, “Are we still where we were?” Should I be moving on? It’s taking really long. I want a good song. I think I’m all done here. I’m free to roam. We’ve had all our fun here but I don’t wanna go home. See there’s the wrong right. Then there’s the right wrong. Avoiding wrong wrong. We’re up ‘til night’s gone. A little right right. Mixed in the right wrong. God awful wrong right. It makes my face long. I think I’m all done here. I’m free to roam. We’ve had all our fun here but I don’t wanna go home.
Track Name: Hard Time
This yard is full of planned deceit. If only you had the mouth to see. Where time and trust has led us wrong. Like meter and rhyme to break my fall. Hard time. With you keeping me. Inside this box. It won’t guarantee. That I won’t be stopped. I suppose that hanging. Me from five stories. My fears from my toes. Leaves me ding-dangling, gling, gling. Absent-minded fellow said there’s nothing wrong with stumbling on the curb you’re humbly walking on, early morning. Nothing wrong with trippin’ into traffic ‘cause the consequence of crushing you is doin’ hard time. As if they’re not already doin’ it. Hard time. But because you kick. Hardly means you’re right. And now I fall. With guts and all. Descending by the foot. I count all the ways. By your stunning gaze. I’m corpsed by the tide. Thoughtful-minded fellow said there’s so much wrong with livin’ like a fox and filling foxholes with the eggs of honest people. So much wrong with livin’ like a great thief off the good graces of gentlemen and women who do everything for nothing. As if they’re not already doin’ it. Hard time. This yard is full of planned deceit. If only you had the mouth to see. Where time and trust has led us wrong. Like meter and rhyme to break my fall. Hard Time.
Track Name: Camping Ground
This is a song about camping in your backyard. Help me if you can. Please lend me a hand. I can’t speak to well. I am buried in sand. My esophagus is dry. I am sinking in. I ain’t talk good. What’ll I do when I get hungry? A feeding troll greets my soul. She seeks control. But me I’m not seduced. An easy take. Your teeth will break when you’ll mistake. The nipple is Medusa’s. Dad-“Why did you bring them here?” Foster child-“Sorry dad. I
did not know.” Lend me some dollar. I can’t pay you back. I have no labor. Drinking up the fruits of loved ones. I’M THIRSTY NOW. I wish to warm your skull with kisses and bold love. Do you understand? What’ll I do when you get moody? Eeeee, I know. I need to grow. I’ve always been slow. Eating from the giving tree. I’m full. I’ll eat my soul. You seek control but, me; I’m not seduced at all. Help me if you can. Please lend me a hand. I can’t speak to well. I am buried in sand. AAAAGGGGGGGGGTTTTRRREEIXVLCXFOELLLLHHHHHHHH!!!!!!