This is not some verse/chorus/verse/chorus shit
This is exorcism. These are warning signs on record. This is a story of Hannibal
Lector and his love of classical music – ironing out circumvention into
a mildly inventive vector. I wear the face of a guard to get out and hunt again.
This is an exercise in devouring your best friends.
This is not some verse/chorus/verse/chorus shit
It’s a geological look at 7 years as a rock musician. It’s an equation
of pressures: a lesson in being taken for granite – a fissure under every
foot that feels the most planted.
This is not some
verse/chorus/verse/chorus shit
It’s an exit wound. Strictly utilitarian (I just accidentally printed
up a few thousand copies and designed a cover and everything). I did this to
remember what it’s like to like myself. I did this to keep me in the band
a little longer. I made this so I only embarrass myself. I do this for me.