Valentine Kid's Litter Lyrics...
Transparent
Flat broke down in a saucer full of tears
Ill pile it in the sink with my unfinished affairs.
Its not the every day
Its not the rainy day
Im just warn around the edge and
bound to skip bound to skip bound to skip
I pinched an inch
despite my lack of really
giving a damn so abandoned
it stays like a childproof cap.
Its not the rain
Its not the day
Im just warn around the edge and
bound to skip bound to skip bound to skip
I dropped the bomb, (and)
you picked the pieces up.
I dropped them on the floor
back to where we were before.
Its not the day
Its not the rain
Im just warn around the edge and
bound to skip bound to skip bound to skip
Teas! (for el bobo)
(It reads like an ancient yearbook code; you read it years later and have no idea what half of it means.)
Spark plug boy, sexy belly honey,
I'll stand on your toes and we'll swing.
Grease back snack,
Hey man I told you.
Lunchbox core , whiskers tickle slightly
How do you make your garden grow?
Road kill lust, you tickle me like champagne.
Hey man I told you. Hey man I told you.
No two flakes are the same. No two flakes are the same.
Green to Blue
(This was about lying in the backseat of a car and looking up at the sky while it was raining. It looked like I was underwater and apparently I found this meaningful enough to turn into a song.)
From below looking up
at trees twilight.
Beneath the surface
Liquid dreams ripe.
I float by giant dark green and blue mass
Abstract crash average
Deep ocean black.
White flashes calling to me
like faces on my ceiling
Birds transpire into fish
Car window breeze
Lull like seawater, its ever seeing.
Reflections in the glass
Moon in still moonlight
?
My liquid sky
White flashes calling to me
like faces on my ceiling.
Catholic Dress - words by Chris Skelly
I sell scars
And tarnished rosarys
I sit by windows
That shield my light
I drink the ages
And sit in a catholic dress
Making sure
That dust has a place to hide.
I cry blood
And sleep wide awake
I hold desire
In a rusted can
I am the blessed
And in my Catholic dress
I can curse everyone
Till the day I die.
About
(I often have repeat nightmares, read into it what you will. Tornadoes, tidal waves, and well, this.)
The dream starts again.
It starts the same each time,
I cant see a thing,
The glass is red with blood.
My car is spinning round
It goes in circles and
I skid on flesh and bone
I cant make it stop.
I am starting to panic.
I am falling out ...
dont want to hit the ground
Oh god but I am about
My car is spinning round
It goes in circles and
I skid on flesh and bone
I cant make it stop.
Im scared to close my eyes.
Dont want this dream again
I want it to go away
but it starts again.
My car is spinning round
It goes in circles and
I skid on flesh and bone
I cant make it stop.
Tucky Homes
(This song has the dumbest words ever And while I cant find the complete lyrics to save my life, trust me, its for the best. I will say this, this song was about a stuffed animal a friend of mine had when he was a child. The double meaning was it in turn was a dorky double meaning love song for the boy. Ugh)
Paint By Numbers
(Looking back, these lyrics pain me. So not good. Ouch.)
The flight of the angel was a terrible ride
Filled with stones thrown
By little boys below.
The flight of the angel was a terrible ride
for all the children
wished upon starry skies.
The Flight of the angel was a lonely ride
for all the lovers gazed passed her at the moon.
Only
the desperate cry to the angels
Cry Chord
(Named after an instrument an avant-garde composer created, I very much liked the words cry chord.)
Caked with patience nothing gives
speculate tomorrow though I swear
molasses drips , faster than faster than this
Maybe Im sick, hit the cry chord.
Like a drug I need my fix
then Im fulfilled for awhile.
Like a child its not enough,
so I drive for fucking miles.
Maybe Im sickhit the cry chord.
Cradle hope, use both my arms
hold myself to feel despair.
Bend me back I want to snap,
no respect in my desire.
Maybe I am sickhit the cry chord.
Milk
(What can I say, I have loved men since I could walk. From about 1st grade to 6th grade I crushed out on a boy who seemed to like me but was ashamed of his crush because his Mom felt I was too tomboy and rough around the edges for her precious baby. To this day it still makes me mad.)
I gave you milk.
I gave you cookies from my lunch.
We played Star Wars,
I let you be my hero.
Why wont you tell our secret?
Why do you say these lies?
Why do you give the half truth ?
Why dont you have a spine?
I wrote you notes.
I let you cheat off my seat work
I scratched your name
at every desk I sat at.
Why wont you tell our secret?
Why do you say these lies?
Why do you give the half truth?
Why dont you have a spine?
Ashamed of me,
admit I wasnt like a girl ( you wanted)
You wanted dumb.
I wont play dead for you.
Why wont you tell our secret?
Why do you say these lies?
Why do you give the half truth?
Why dont you have a spine?
Shake a Tower
(Looking back at this song so many years later, I almost found the words shocking. My mom has A very advanced case of MS and while I feel like It is a very present point of anguish, this song reminds me how long this pain has been going on for. Growing up my parents would say shake a tower instead of take a shower and it for whatever reason, I symbolized it lyrically to the fall of my mother who was always a tower of strength to me.)
My name is death I live inside you.
I give no hope,
make you despise you
I have no name I have no title.
I make your mom feel suicidal.
I am sorry its not me.
Shake a tower.
My name is death I live inside you.
I give no hope,
make you despise you
I have no name I have no title.
I make your mom feel suicidal.
I am sorry its not me.
Shake a tower.
50 Minute Side
(Driving in NY State I always adored those random roadside waterfalls that seem to come out of nowhere and then dissapear. I drove this route often, to where we recorded these songs, and these damn waterfalls moved around every day. This was my little tribute to a great source of happiness at the time)
They weren't there yesterday
but today the waters on.
Its pouring over the rocks
and onto the side of the road.
This is the best thing I've seen in days
Its sneaking under the fence
And spilling over the earth
Following beside me
Then it disappears again.
This is the best thing
Ive seen in days.
Gomez 88
(I think I wrote this in like 8th grade or something.For a hot second I knew a boy who was knicknamed Gomez and for some reason I wrote this for him.)
golden sunflower
blind bending baffled
floating above the beach
sprouting from your thoughts
rooting beneath your nails
dragging stones with your feet
tides fog your vision
emotions drown under
sinking slowly
kicking up silt.
Flat broke down in a saucer full of tears
Ill pile it in the sink with my unfinished affairs.
Its not the every day
Its not the rainy day
Im just warn around the edge and
bound to skip bound to skip bound to skip
I pinched an inch
despite my lack of really
giving a damn so abandoned
it stays like a childproof cap.
Its not the rain
Its not the day
Im just warn around the edge and
bound to skip bound to skip bound to skip
I dropped the bomb, (and)
you picked the pieces up.
I dropped them on the floor
back to where we were before.
Its not the day
Its not the rain
Im just warn around the edge and
bound to skip bound to skip bound to skip
Teas! (for el bobo)
(It reads like an ancient yearbook code; you read it years later and have no idea what half of it means.)
Spark plug boy, sexy belly honey,
I'll stand on your toes and we'll swing.
Grease back snack,
Hey man I told you.
Lunchbox core , whiskers tickle slightly
How do you make your garden grow?
Road kill lust, you tickle me like champagne.
Hey man I told you. Hey man I told you.
No two flakes are the same. No two flakes are the same.
Green to Blue
(This was about lying in the backseat of a car and looking up at the sky while it was raining. It looked like I was underwater and apparently I found this meaningful enough to turn into a song.)
From below looking up
at trees twilight.
Beneath the surface
Liquid dreams ripe.
I float by giant dark green and blue mass
Abstract crash average
Deep ocean black.
White flashes calling to me
like faces on my ceiling
Birds transpire into fish
Car window breeze
Lull like seawater, its ever seeing.
Reflections in the glass
Moon in still moonlight
?
My liquid sky
White flashes calling to me
like faces on my ceiling.
Catholic Dress - words by Chris Skelly
I sell scars
And tarnished rosarys
I sit by windows
That shield my light
I drink the ages
And sit in a catholic dress
Making sure
That dust has a place to hide.
I cry blood
And sleep wide awake
I hold desire
In a rusted can
I am the blessed
And in my Catholic dress
I can curse everyone
Till the day I die.
About
(I often have repeat nightmares, read into it what you will. Tornadoes, tidal waves, and well, this.)
The dream starts again.
It starts the same each time,
I cant see a thing,
The glass is red with blood.
My car is spinning round
It goes in circles and
I skid on flesh and bone
I cant make it stop.
I am starting to panic.
I am falling out ...
dont want to hit the ground
Oh god but I am about
My car is spinning round
It goes in circles and
I skid on flesh and bone
I cant make it stop.
Im scared to close my eyes.
Dont want this dream again
I want it to go away
but it starts again.
My car is spinning round
It goes in circles and
I skid on flesh and bone
I cant make it stop.
Tucky Homes
(This song has the dumbest words ever And while I cant find the complete lyrics to save my life, trust me, its for the best. I will say this, this song was about a stuffed animal a friend of mine had when he was a child. The double meaning was it in turn was a dorky double meaning love song for the boy. Ugh)
Paint By Numbers
(Looking back, these lyrics pain me. So not good. Ouch.)
The flight of the angel was a terrible ride
Filled with stones thrown
By little boys below.
The flight of the angel was a terrible ride
for all the children
wished upon starry skies.
The Flight of the angel was a lonely ride
for all the lovers gazed passed her at the moon.
Only
the desperate cry to the angels
Cry Chord
(Named after an instrument an avant-garde composer created, I very much liked the words cry chord.)
Caked with patience nothing gives
speculate tomorrow though I swear
molasses drips , faster than faster than this
Maybe Im sick, hit the cry chord.
Like a drug I need my fix
then Im fulfilled for awhile.
Like a child its not enough,
so I drive for fucking miles.
Maybe Im sickhit the cry chord.
Cradle hope, use both my arms
hold myself to feel despair.
Bend me back I want to snap,
no respect in my desire.
Maybe I am sickhit the cry chord.
Milk
(What can I say, I have loved men since I could walk. From about 1st grade to 6th grade I crushed out on a boy who seemed to like me but was ashamed of his crush because his Mom felt I was too tomboy and rough around the edges for her precious baby. To this day it still makes me mad.)
I gave you milk.
I gave you cookies from my lunch.
We played Star Wars,
I let you be my hero.
Why wont you tell our secret?
Why do you say these lies?
Why do you give the half truth ?
Why dont you have a spine?
I wrote you notes.
I let you cheat off my seat work
I scratched your name
at every desk I sat at.
Why wont you tell our secret?
Why do you say these lies?
Why do you give the half truth?
Why dont you have a spine?
Ashamed of me,
admit I wasnt like a girl ( you wanted)
You wanted dumb.
I wont play dead for you.
Why wont you tell our secret?
Why do you say these lies?
Why do you give the half truth?
Why dont you have a spine?
Shake a Tower
(Looking back at this song so many years later, I almost found the words shocking. My mom has A very advanced case of MS and while I feel like It is a very present point of anguish, this song reminds me how long this pain has been going on for. Growing up my parents would say shake a tower instead of take a shower and it for whatever reason, I symbolized it lyrically to the fall of my mother who was always a tower of strength to me.)
My name is death I live inside you.
I give no hope,
make you despise you
I have no name I have no title.
I make your mom feel suicidal.
I am sorry its not me.
Shake a tower.
My name is death I live inside you.
I give no hope,
make you despise you
I have no name I have no title.
I make your mom feel suicidal.
I am sorry its not me.
Shake a tower.
50 Minute Side
(Driving in NY State I always adored those random roadside waterfalls that seem to come out of nowhere and then dissapear. I drove this route often, to where we recorded these songs, and these damn waterfalls moved around every day. This was my little tribute to a great source of happiness at the time)
They weren't there yesterday
but today the waters on.
Its pouring over the rocks
and onto the side of the road.
This is the best thing I've seen in days
Its sneaking under the fence
And spilling over the earth
Following beside me
Then it disappears again.
This is the best thing
Ive seen in days.
Gomez 88
(I think I wrote this in like 8th grade or something.For a hot second I knew a boy who was knicknamed Gomez and for some reason I wrote this for him.)
golden sunflower
blind bending baffled
floating above the beach
sprouting from your thoughts
rooting beneath your nails
dragging stones with your feet
tides fog your vision
emotions drown under
sinking slowly
kicking up silt.