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Black Lobster

by Ambien Blackout

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1.
ELLIOT SMITH ON A GLUETRAP The tone of your voice is enough to make me paralyzed. It doesn't seem fair when I think of all of the times that I tried to relax and let jealousy and fear slip away. Still I get stopped in my tracks by the sound of whatever you say. Elliot Smith on a glue trap is trying to pull himself free and then sing you a sad song. Elliot Smith on a glue trap is trying to lift up his limbs and then point out the obvious. I've heard his records played over and over again 'cause you made me listen to them, so I know, I know, I know what he's going to do. But with you, with you, with you... I have no fucking clue. I've heard the voice of freshly dead men sing so sweet. They sang for you before they died - every syllable has been crystallized. They bring you joy but to me they are ghosts in the air. When I lie in your bed I wonder what the hell I'm doing there. Elliot Smith on a glue trap is trying to pull himself free and then sing you a sad song. Elliot Smith on a glue trap is trying to lift up his limbs and then point out the obvious. He gave up - he's not twitching too much - but I know soon he'll be crying - not moving's inspiring. I know, I know, I know what he's going to do. But with you, with you, with you... I have no fucking clue. I know, I know, I know what he's going to do. But with you, with you, with you... I have no fucking clue. Elliot Smith on a glue trap is trying to pull himself free and then sing you a sad song. Elliot Smith on a glue trap is trying to lift up his limbs and then point out the obvious. Elliot Smith on a glue trap Elliot Smith on a glue trap Elliot Smith on a glue trap is trying Elliot Smith on a glue trap is trying to Elliot Smith on a glue trap is trying to pull himself free and then sing you a sad song. I've heard his records played over and over again 'cause you made me listen to them.
2.
Ringing 04:12
RINGING I've got lost time; I've got implants; I've got burn marks; I hear humming. I don't sleep well; I feel special; I get startled; I hear tapping. I’ve got ringing, ringing that never stops, ringing, ringing that never stops. I don't talk much; dreams of destruction; precognition; vitamin deficient. I’ve got ringing, ringing that never stops, ringing, ringing that never stops. Ringing, ringing that never stops, never stops, never stops. Year after year, after year, after year, after... Year after year, after year, after year, after... Balls of blank light; blood on my pillow; I've got lost time; I hear humming. I’ve got ringing, ringing that never stops, ringing, ringing that never stops. Ringing, ringing that never stops. Ringing, ringing that never stops. Ringing, ringing that never stops, never stops, never stops. Year after year, after year, after year, after... Year after year, after year, after year, after... Year after year, after year, after year, after...
3.
Chemtrails 03:36
CHEMTRAILS Our love is like chem trails: the mysterious unknown we might know where we've been but we just don't know where we're going. Like ashes from a funeral urn thrown up in the air our fingers intertwine and part and the moment disappears. Our love is like chem trails: it has fiendish entropy it is calm and slow and falls and spreads and covers everything. And everyone's afraid of it because they don't know what it means. But when you're the pilot of the F14, it's exactly what it seems. Our love is like chem trails: You can ask who and what and why, But while you're busy talking it scribbles lines on the joyous sky. And people look up and wonder if there's a meaning to that mess. But when you're slicing across the firmament you never have to guess. Our love is like chem trails: it makes us different from the day before we can pretend that it's not there so its something we ignore. and paranoid freaks might say that it is duplicitous mind control. But if we didn't have it you know we would never be fully whole. Our love is like chem trails: ephemeral wisps disappear unless we send up the jets to churn the atmosphere. Like ashes from a funeral urn thrown up in the air our fingers intertwine and part and the moment disappears.
4.
THE KING OF THE FUCKING WORLD The old man and the princess went down to the shore and waited for hours for the sea to perform and they sat there in vain while the world spun around with waves perseverating where their feet hit the ground. They turned to each other and they asked what came next, but neither one answered so they both looked perplexed. And they should have known better and they should have held fast. But they fell in love knowing life wouldn't last. The princess she died of a disease sad and rare. And the old man, he cried with his hubris laid bare. If you soil a princess - despoil the girl - it's always incest when you're the king of the fucking world. Now I'm not a genius, but I've got wisdom to give: Don't fuck by the ocean, unless that's where you live.
5.
Moon 05:39
MOON There's a reason it's so unpleasing, and I just don't want to unwind all the clues that prove it's just bad news that I don't wanna have to go find. If there's a kick me sign you find your mind has lost the time to delete the memories and be gone. I will erase and replace without a trace the last wide-eyed clone of a yawn. Because I will not repeat any more. I will not repeat any more. So if the you that knew that I was through is the same guy that I used to be don't feel bad for us in the help sarcophagus, one will escape and be free. Oh, there's a treachery to daisychain-back-stab-ery: guilty victim recursive chain. but I swear it's true, you know for sure I like you too, because we are the one and the same. Because I will not repeat any more. I will not repeat any more. It just keeps going and going and... x100 'till it's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone. I lack the terminology for sad epistimology where me that's you learns it too late. The evening and the morning star, no matter when the hell we are, isn't identity great? You cannot role reverse, if the role is get there first, but there is still a way to repeat by adding one and then another done, never the twain shall epiphany meet. Because I will not repeat any more. I will not repeat any more. It just keeps going and going and... x100 'till it's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone.

credits

released October 26, 2016

Charles Jamison - Vocal/Guitar
Cara Toast - Bass/Vocal
Ahren Buchheister - Guitar/Vocal
John Hobgood - Drums/Keys/Vocal

Produced, Recorded, and Mixed by Ahren Buchheister at Mount Vesuvius
Drums recorded by Frank Marchand at Hudson Street Sound
Mastered by Dan Coutant at Sunroom Audio

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Ambien Blackout Baltimore, Maryland

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