Statik Panik!

by Some Punk

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1.
03:17
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about

work in progress! recorded with Audacity

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released April 2, 2014

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Some Punk Minneapolis, Minnesota

I like to eat pizza and I like to sit.

Minnesota loves you.

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Track Name: Statik Panik
I don't wanna go home
and sit waiting for the telephone
to bring me your voice
it makes me sick
to watch the night turn slowly
without me

I could use another drink
I could use some fucking time to think
about this rock in space
that carries your face through time
so sublime
how I can be with you from
so far away

I don't wanna try to hide
my cigarette suicide
I love you darling please don't go
never mind I gave up long ago
long ago

this time I pick myself
this time
I choose myself
this time I choose to
be happy
be happy
all alone
Track Name: O, Sweet Despair
And i'm sick of hanging out
with your racist friends
who can't get along without
alcohol or sexist bets on
who can be better in
time
out of mind
can you see me standing here
or am I a ghost in the background of
your bathroom mirror
with cocain dust all round your sink
and the stench of vomit pulls you too the brink of
closure
sweet closure
o, sweet despair,
the air,
is so thick and warm from your breath
I can feel it on my arms
where the scars
from a million fallen stars
have left marks beneath
my retinae
I can't go through a single day
without seeing your stupid face
like a shining metal splinter in my heart

o, sweet despair,
what's in there?
Is it my sense of security?
Or maybe it's a repressed memory
of long ago before I slept
in winter clothes
and wept myself to sleep
Track Name: Disaster Pornography
I feel unwanted by all of my friends
it never ends

my shrink told me to take some bullshit root
well it won't stop me from taking a gun to my head

i'm sick of the way you talk to women
and i'm sick of your favorite band
and i'm sick of the way you look down your nose at me

but even if karma shits all over your life
why wont I feel any better
why wont I feel any better
about mine

my whole life is
disaster pornography
to me
my whole life is
disaster pornography

it's all just disaster pornography
and shit tv
uh huh

and all i'm good at writing is soft sad songs
for all the spit I give about being punk I
couldn't scream if I was being tortured,
or just drunk
seems like i'm always drunk
seems like i'll always flunk
out
down 'n out

but i'd slit my wrists if it meant that my last breath
it'd sound even just a little feminine
this cage is a thing I am contained in
and it burns
and it burns
and it burns