Senile Pie Strive Pip Melancholy

by Major Matt Mason USA

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1.
02:31
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00:25
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5.
6.
04:23
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8.
9.
04:20
10.
03:33

credits

released January 1, 2007

Recorded at Olive Juice Music Studios (NYC).

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Major Matt Mason USA New York, New York

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Track Name: Poor School
So this one's for the time we are all gathered in the yard
when everyone's working so much at not working too hard.
And all the lights electric are just bubbles made of glass.
And all the wine makes me more comfortable here on the grass
just listening to insects try to ease their troubled minds
while serenading hopeful hearts that read between the lines.
And distant engines rumbling will shake me to the core
that run on all the voices I don't hear when I'm not poor.

To live to watch you demons peak is wishing on a star.
When you see them everyday you know exactly where they are.
So, when strapping on those cinder blocks of fiber optic lies
just recall a demon's always strongest right before he dies.
And the weakest man is always weakest right before he's saved.
And attention always picks the one who's not so well behaved.
The holy man never more holy right before he's sins.
And the day you lose your shit man is where it all begins.
Track Name: 1000 Ice Creams
Your cigarette ice cube blew up in my head.
The kids are all tied up and ready for bed.
I never once thought I'd be better off dead.
So why are you running away from me.
I signed all the paper's and filled all the blanks.
I cut out the bad parts with Toby Goodshanks.
I breath in the air that you told me to save.
I'm selling the flowers I grew off your grave.

So 1,000 ice creams for 1,000 dreams.
Respectable, despicable, episcopal cure.
I dried out those pipe dreams and kept them secure.
So why are you running away from me.
Why are you running away from me.

I outsourced the hate a taste I never knew.
Let's visit your parents new place at the zoo.
I don't take no shit and I'll tell you no lie.
Ye touches my stuff and then ye fucking die.

Coletrane...
fuel reactions and fire away at a happy day.
Diphthongs...
a tongue depressors the only tool to remain a fool.

Backyard apartments fill up with my trash.
35 float away on my lash.
I'm playing my music with people I love.
So why are you running away from me.
High kicks and boot licks and fork lifts and porn flicks and vice grips and tulips and mic clips and bull whips and wheelings and dealings and feelings and ceilings and 1,000 ice creams for 1,000 dreams.
Track Name: Ladies Night
It's ladies night, ladies night.
This one's for the ladies. Tonights your night.
Because it's ladies night, ladies night.
This one's for the ladies. Tonights our night.
Track Name: Tripping Yourself
My darling Murina where are you going
clip clopping, clip clopping on high heeled hooves?
Back to the lighthouse.
Your bloomers on the the campfire.
The pride of your nation of genetilfcation.
They beat you on the dance floor like yoga on Sunday.
It fills up your bathtub with affordable chocolate.
You're crossing a border.
They sent back your order.
Your purchasing power is getting time to afford ya.
The time to do dishes.
Your wishes are fishes.
All of your needs are a powerful magician.
In search of venue.
So many to burn through.
We're always up for another fish on the menu.

And every time I hear you say, "I wish things were another way."
I pull a pine cone from the sky and ask him if he'll be my guy.
And every day I hear you say, "Why do things have to be this way?"
I gather up my salad bowls and butter them like dinner rolls because you're tripping yourself on yourself.
You're tripping yourself.
You're tripping yourself on yourself.
You're tripping yourself.

The sun hits my eyes.
It fills me with lies.
But what does it matter.
The children all scatter.
They stare at the pitch when the truth's in batter.
I was walking after dark in Tompkins Square Park
thinking of all the ways that I can name drop New York.
I know that I hurt you.
It's an easy thing to do.
I heard what you said and I know some of it was true.
And every day you pull apart the macramé inside my heart and twirl it on a fort and spoon and serve it to a silver moon.
And every time hold your hand the music of your favorite band begins to play inside your head and drowns out all the things I've said because you're tripping yourself on yourself.
You're tripping yourself.
You're tripping yourself on yourself.
You're tripping yourself.
Track Name: Something In My Eye
I'm not crying there's something in my eye.
I'm not flying to crash and burn.
There's a sound inside the sound inside the song.
And there's a person behind everyone that's wrong.
Sometimes when you look at me.
I see the one I want to be.
A falling tree still makes a sound.
When there's no one left around.
And the words get louder the further you're away.
Like dreams of barbecues and porch swings.
And I'm trying hard not hear more than you say.
like sucking poison out of dead things.
But when your drug of choice turns into your own voice.
I don't know what to do because what I'm addicted to sounds a lot like noise.
Track Name: Moderoto
It's okay if you can't hear the voice inside my head.
Lost my watch on New Years eve and forgot what it said.
Shhhh...

Times are turning into memories all the live long day.
Pocket fishing to the madness doesn't wipe away your sorrow, but in time, in time you'll learn to lose your dime.

Discarded gum marks a thousand points of darkness.
I hear the tracks like the safety of a gun.
The homeless man and I, we share a secret smile.
The homeless man and I, we share a secret smile.
The homeless man and I, we share a secret smile.
The homeless man and I, we share a secret smile.
Shhh...
Track Name: Hurting You Hurting Me
I'm not funny.
I'm not smart.
I'm not a walking piece of art.

I'm not waiting for something new.
I'm looking for something to do.
Because I'm hurting.
And I'm hurting for you.

You can hang onto my rope.
You can burn up all my dough.
And you can lie about your day.
And all the little things in the way.

And I could sing a happy song.
And I could sing a pretty.
And I could sing another song.
And I could sing a better song.

Everybody saw you act like you like it.
Everybody saw you act like you like it.
Everybody saw you act like you like it.
Everybody saw you act like you like it.
Track Name: Caprian Pervert
Everybody's got a lightening bolt tattoo cover up somewhere.
You look good girl in that sweater but sixteen dollars might look better.
Indo Chinese New Year gonna stick it to the rooster.
Plow your fields you are reveled you're apron got caught in your sweater.

Boo hoo hoo.
Boo hoo hoo.
Boo hoo hoo.
Boo hoo hoo.

Every time I see you cry I think it's time to drink a beer.
When the bull rolls in the heather I want to give that bull a sweater.
My appetite is more than good.
My roots are firmly in the cellar.
I can see though that girls skirt.
You think that someone aught to tell her?

Boo hoo hoo.
Boo hoo hoo.
Boo hoo hoo.
Boo hoo hoo.

Boo hoo hoo.
Boo hoo hoo.
Boo hoo hoo.
Boo hoo hoo.
Track Name: Way Home
If I knitted you a favor will there be a string attached.
If promise not to hear your slamming door
will you bring my lover back.

Do you have in you the courage to be the first on at the party.
I think that you confused something that you heard with something that I said.

We could make love under water.
Burn a candle in a jar.
I don't like to try so people get surprised.
I always knew that I'd go far.

I just need to find a way home.
A proper box or just a hole that I can sleep in.
I don't need to find a way home.
I just need to find some matches in the dark.

The turkey fell into the windshield.
The Christmas tree flew to the desert.
We still don't know just what on earth possessed that boy to love her mom and dad so much.

I don't need to find a way home.
Perhaps it's time to blow the dust off of those bongos.
I just need to find a way home.
I need to learn to light some matches in the dark.