brain bug is don’t die on mars. brain bug is two oreos only. brain bug is take the fuckers out. brain bug is don’t be a deadbeat. brain bug is keep your shoes on near the river. brain bug is three bottles of fireball and a bowl of sour cream and onion. brain bug is don’t text her back. brain bug is two tracks with the same name by different artists vying for the top google search. brain bug is a funeral for the dead rat on the third rail. brain bug gets tired.
lyrics
A simple enough decision to make,
crowed the mountain goat, eight hooves
firmly in the shit, act, do, try.
A choir, ruiner hearts the world over,
one after another machine gun bone.
I wasn’t built. I grew empty of the else,
of the earth’s crust and eighteen million years,
rivulets of pink and four teeth in a shot glass,
legs all porcelain blood, polar bear, PowerPoint,
a few white swipes of uncut image-ridden narcissism.
I was sticky ring fingers fist deep in the jar,
pulling forth the effort, dying of laughter.
In every story, after the rain clears,
there is a new earth. Noah clutches the branch,
wondering why it won’t stop thrashing.
Now I swallow roaches whole like moth balls,
ingest the Holy Roman atmosphere
in one graven flush, breathe the pits’ age,
wonder how deep the old soul can go
before gripping the nearest gutter star.
A dream: my mother, shiva on the bath mat,
cradling the fish tank like a newborn as the hissers
eat tunnels through banana. Lullabies of Darwin
and nuclear holocaust. They will live through it, she insists.
They will tell our stories.
Are you a dream, too? Or another voice?
How does one sling comets with such magnitude?
What direction do your cars go?
Are they tired from the journey?
When will they get to rest?
credits
from Tabernacle,
released September 24, 2016
emerson fd - vocals, lyrics
amos damroth - synths, production
Pretty much exactly what you'd want out of an atmospheric, ambient, and engaging listen in less than 10 minutes. Beautiful sounds and textures. Worth yo time and yo money. Free Lemonade Records