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An Interior History

by Unsung

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cry garçon, cry Somehow got here through gener’s gone, and damn, am I glad I did. Even before I saw the anticon tag, I was feeling some classic ug hip hop vibes, i.e. cLOUDDEAD. Brilliant. Hits all the spots, copped the tape. Props to you for carrying the torch, it’s nice.
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1.
Dawn 03:00
2.
Shirts un-tucked Must be the weekend Let the water boil Steep the tea in the deep end Blinds pulled tight So the neighbors don't peak in Unpack the candles Skull sits encircled Blind faith, cracked glass can't hurt you Don't fish don't hunt Resurrect My urges no disrespect No ouija board carve symbols in the wood grain Times change seems odd where the mind been -mind bends in strange ways a divine sense time lends meaning to my dreams and my conscience popcorn for fintertips butter on my crystals and the carpet wipe it off with the fabric of my garments -It all begins with a union of palms though we know where we are we gotta start from the start looking crooked in the mirrors aint no signs of a scar yet and keep track watch veins for the scarlet Purple smoke sage hangs dim in the spinning fan blades range from a cyclical shake to steady quake maintain candlelight approaching night in hindsight spirits from the ether trapped between your teeth and speakers -film grain, ready made smoke stack dusk picturesque kodachrome silver bullets all rust take a photo of your captor shake the image it's developing Lights involved in pinholes dissolve Spreads wider to the wall Rides until it falls Light as a feather when it's all held together In a jar -Praying to the light Like a vitamin of God Seems odd But the pictures not complete until it's on Click Brighter than the sky If you can't hold it then you can't describe it blood brother cut Secret kept until you die or your speech while you sleep pillow talking when you shut your eyes wrapped in fabric so white you left your face on the side our palms out slices in the meat to the bone when your carving so hard you're just releasing your soul now the species you know human beings that speak too much chatter till their teeth turn brittle talk the meaning off guilty as charged hard starving for a focal point so beg pardon harboring thoughts that go farther than not I quote pain and despair wrapped in chains and a prayer pretend to care and act patient as I vacantly stare
3.
Sitting in a parked car Listening to harpsichord Wailing at the moon like I'm praying To the dunes in my view Or the Bloom from my hibernating vocals Scratch the surface of my purpose I'm disappointed in my rap verses I wish I was a human Wish I was just tethered to this world By hands that knew me Or at least tried to pierce a shell that's hell bent parallel i'm well vented Telling all my secrets Selling all my sound on the ground looking down Word that's a spiral I can get behind Find a habitat to slide inside Lie for days within a broken spine Thesis of a text Lie between your teeth Lay around your neck Settle somewhere in between Working even in your dreams Sew the seed of doubt And pray with folded, knitted grieving gloves that you can work it out Or shoulder fitted fleeting love And leave it steeping in your mouth With its gritted sleeping heaving chest Shallow motions are the best Rest Yes Just concentrate don't act fidgety make more sparks and erase more marks all set for the sea with a sail and buffet trust stays deep inside the chest where the nest lays Don't practice what I preach Just assume that the beast follows Hollering hollow threats and wallows indebted of course Distorted in proportion Aligned with the time like a sign Blue mark on your face That's a murakami style that's divine As the setting and pace Auto-writes on the grind to replace Retrace and save face as the characters change but stay the same Blank date on your grave I waited but you never came
4.
My fingers aching in the morning when the sky seems shy to bend it's light towards the comfort of my pillowed head Make my blinds test their patience and the need for separation when compared to given space where the moon had bled Check my teeth like they were tombstones brushing off the names all engraved are just cavities with time lines Behold the destiny of follicles and print their names side by side within obituaries make their pictures blurry I'm growing farther from my father's face stretching towards a species undiscovered in the caverns of my macula They wrap their aching fingers loose in my peripheral like blooming floral shapes that lend themselves to some insanity Preach to me like I'm in desperate need of snake oil rubbing in the knuckles first palms flat feelings hurt Shake it off and then approach the world around me like the siding needs a coat of paint or scrape until it weakens first Survey the grounds crickets buzzing humming blockage through my ear canal that sends a tingle to my inner child He lives inside swimming dreaming of a future full of color that was promised with a kiss upon his sleeping brow Paint it till the wind change Keep it in a shoebox Heat it over stove tops Just say that we can be changed Hoodie out the whole face Saintly in his Reebok's Praying to his safe space I awoke, I awoke, I awoke lungs turned italics in the shrinking of a quote Neither shrieking nor opinion of the gears denote a thinking mind through thickening the seamless ness of space and time a wrinkled spine Would hold my patience trudging nature behind vile curtains while the splotches blind the winter time to turn blind eyes to shouldered weight and birth defined by passion of the rabid flight from day to night while holding candles scarring fingertips and turning blisters white a kissing fight with reddened lips lie twisting tongues and raising hips too violent when spirit spits a painted lady turning vaguely pale under the ticking clock that burdens shelfs beneath it with it's constant keeping catching up while worried painted seems split I was moss in the faucet but my speech was too dry to be combined with my preaching side I was tossed in the pale blue morning someone watching was complaining they were bored inside I was baking in the crust of an earth still divided by a warming smell of musk I was nude before a cosmos that gifted me an accent but cursed with one it couldn't trust
5.
6.
Sprint to the park bench moon reads full in the mist Sits down slides to the left Purple wings autumn clay shades where the chimney builds fire through a smoke stack plays Grey stays beige Fade breaks new days grace As an arm outstretched to the core of an apple crunch teeth til they crackle snack happily dry All the books I never read keep passing me by Assume midnight bakes into evenings cracked terra cotta pot high fracture risk discman skips stop ain't no scratches on it lipstick marks... Hatchet scars... works of art Round of applause smirk behind scarves Face to Apollo Face it your hollow Spaces between Dotted lines when you follow Laces undone. Brace when you run Eyes in the sun sickening sweet Pull out your teeth Smile for me Teeth yellow in the beast's belly heavier in thought than I thought possibility reach screech halt applause maybe reaching in the vault steeping in the hops practice all the preaching while you're reaping all the crops Thanks yesterday Gone by tomorrow's hands Draped - denim And a face gone missing Never stumble on a snake gone hissing Direct witness to a video existence Gone blank face Hi stakes race Sign language in hand Speak old tongue Taste bland Ain't old age grand Blue hue hair Bowl of ideas I'm a crawl right through here We're through here Tossed in the ocean Big moon ideas Old skip stone I'll see through Too soon Encore all on board Please place wings on arms No way water weighs more than blood on palms
7.
Sweat stains bring salt in the vision Almond shaped with the lid gone missing Such an actor where the pistons hissing And You can't be listening Smoke in the air Like a grand dad's soul Pulled through the portal Orange sunset Mortal coil soon to spoil Graves and grapes Lazing shapes Drenched in oil Air tastes burnt Sitting right there on the front porch Burning hell's gate to the floor with a pitchfork Stubbing my toe on a slow moving tortoise What's my purpose Got no focus Seated by phone books Looking irrelevant In the restaurant with my skin dipped neon Shirt off bare cross Baked in sun drenched clothes pin Pinched flesh No meal What's next? Summing up the summer with a muffler soon to sputter I'll be dangling on a wooden moon while channeling a newer noon While changing into fewer foods is dieting while changing moods And dying less by letting bloom the seeds of things you never knew Ahh I don't get wild in the evening Grieving weekend work or pierced like a werewolf stoked Choked up chick flicks hung with weirdest rope Locked in pages Loch Ness Broken promise costs less Faux pas got your nails painted Got your wheels slashed Shield smashed Basement got windows get out New faces get cracked with smiles Old skin play drums in the house Old drums war chants through the town
8.
It was nighttime light By the moon skipping coins In a pond We see breath in the calm Praying to a big foot action figure dissected chest Where a firecracker rests In our palm We weren't even new here Grandmother's forest Weren't tourists to the stars Just a Virgo and Taurus When the dinner bell rang Like flies on the venison Wood grain panel from the walls To the mantle Little bit of wine in my cup Wood chopping and the sparks from the fire rise up stick carving to a point where the end pierce mallow and i'm melting on the rock seat mellow to the memory remembering a family that's disappeared presently a photo with no entity a polaroid of spirits as the centerpiece sitting round a table which is facing down it's enemies as viewers will impose regret and empathy upon a backdrop of menace and fragility that only hesitates when asked directly Why their eyes all close so heavily Steadily on decline through the valley of the merchants of sleep and dream well May you only know peace You dream loud and the walls will not stop it A turning of tides flood the blackness of objects A process unknown that's a viable option to a dissected chest and a heart with no palm print
9.
Surveyor 04:02
Counting the sheep but they all look the same clip clopping their feet as they splash in the rain unnamed and uncounted were few but they all knew my name my briefcase and bounty a suit and a tie made of corduroy lives in a drawer where pennies and nickels realities whispers are careless and probably lives on the staircase where feet will then meet and tumble and greet the dawn you'll fall asleep in this song as soon as it ends you'll be turning it off hand covers teeth were exposed by a yawn and billowing breath and silhouettes stretched gripping the drawer make sure the nickels and pennies don't fall on the floor or you may wake up and discover you've been asleep all of this wonder may escape your memory this is how time moves so slow regardless of interest in science you'll buy and appliance that tells you when your time to go is staple it up to your headboard goals this will then make you believe the only thing you've ever seen is reality life is a tongue with pennies and pearls and death is a shape made of nickels and crows we were conceived despite all the hesitance we will then work despite all our craft we will once die with spite of those living and we will then live to spite all those past we were conceived despite all the hesitance we will then work despite all our craft we will once die with spite of those living and we will then live to spite all those past
10.
Directions 03:13
Late day golden clouds Compass bears the sacrifice Chamber Music Sheets of paper Leafing scattered paradise Beards of winter Reflect spring Cascade the collar into night Walking onward Pressing faces Salted sidewalks steady paces Sweaty faces Dig under the city Secret tunnels lit by glow worms in the walls Embedded strands of spit An air of listlessness Like walking through the poppies Lie down in the darkness Get these creeping hands up off me And apply the sunny starkness -This shade of green calms shaking fingers holding this canteen like it's my home I always pace in pieces parts and fractions for the sum but the floor is nearly whole again I guess my thoughts are done Should I destroy my records while recording an existence I admit was not perfection but was close to some direction Any feelings, thoughts or tangents would be needed, wanted, handled with the care I could afford upon a budget of my teeth and hair Damn, I almost melted down before realizing that to lose your place you first must hold some ground I am a man who writes to fill his time and fingers with a sense of pride like there are some worlds I can't build and instead I will just describe -I am a man who treasures moments caught inside the tufts of fur Upon his face Like he must own it Place the dagger in my chest If you must make me confess To wanting something from the world That wanted me as a success But a dreamer nonetheless Needless to say it's out of reach for me But efforts weren't the best Never played my part like I'm supposed to do Never sent my words out to the ghosts Like the glowing screens had told me to flashing like the winter from my window with a cursor pointing skyward i devoured months from years and scoured books to find the dog-eared pages where I wrote liner notes and knew if my minds vacant then my eyes get famous but I'm better at the jokes than writing heartfelt statements so I'll just remain nameless

credits

released November 9, 2018

All songs written, produced and recorded by Steven Miller unless otherwise noted.
Cover painting by Brandt Dykstra www.instagram.com/brandt.dykstra/?hl=en
Tracks 3-4 feature vocals from Ash Cheshire www.cheshimusic.com
Tracks 5 and 9 feature guitar and bass from Brian Salvatore
Mixed and mastered by Matt Firek @ Fire K Studios www.firekstudios.com

Originally published by Already Dead Tapes and Records alreadydeadtapes.com/adt/

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