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Degenerate EP 1

by Tom Ashman

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1.
Bad Company 01:59
Bad Company: So you want to come, like I want you to, and you want to die, is that all you do? But you hear your master calling, calling like you do, and you hear the wind shaking the windows in your room. There’s a place I know, but it isn’t real, and when darkness falls you touch and feel. Your fingers on my instinct, your teeth are in my neck, and you’re leaning on my headboard, peeling paintwork with your sweat. Do you want to be my bad company? But I see your petals falling, your and goes to your mouth, screaming out for mercy as they’re carrying you out. Do you want to be my bad company?
2.
Can’t help the way: Can’t help being angry, can’t help being lost, it’s the way I was made like the leaves of the trees in the frost. You told me to lie, you told me to kill, you told me you would not hold me responsible. Can’t help the way that you’re calling me, and look at all my love raining down in sheets of ecstasy, and I’ll wait, I’ll wait for better days, and if you’re moving on, if you’re not real at all, you’ll still be the monster in my dreams. Can’t help being clueless, can’t help play my part, can’t help that I can’t say how I’m afraid of the dark, can’t help being distant can’t help being cold, if I cave for one moment the ghosts would never let me go. Can’t help the way that you’re haunting me, and im so awake in this raw and raging sobriety, nothing’s dulled, sharp senses feel it all, so breakable, so fragile, and my thoughts won’t ever leave me alone. ‘Cos im a claustrophobic vapour holding back the knives of pride and loathing, an ice and crystal hurricane, the shards dispersing in the rain, I’m humanity and bravery and all the lies you told to me and grasping, grasping out to reach the dreams all slipping out of reach and, I’m her just come and get me, I’m here just come and get me. Can’t help the way that you’re haunting me and look at all my love raining down in sheets of ecstasy, and I’ll wait, I’ll wait for better days, and if you’re moving on, if you’re not real at all, you’ll still be the monster in my dreams.
3.
God 03:58
God: Footsteps counting in my head, puddles deeper than the dead, and if you take it from me, I don’t need reality. Hear the unborn in their sleep and their life is suffering and when they wake up they scream, until they learn their routine. Oh boy, you got it real bad, I just cut my hair and cup you in my hands. She left on the train, petals in the rain that you’ll never see. God, with your leather boots and your head in your hands, the sunlight blasts in shafts through turning fans, and if you eat me I’ll go, and I’ll kill you all, and I’ll stand out there as if I had any choice at all. To call you by your name, or wrap up in your brain, and if you fake it I’ll know, but I’ll take it anyhow, and I’ll eek it out and hold it down and smother it ‘til nothing else comes out. And if you run now I’ll find, with sugar-acid dripping from my mouth, I’ll condemn those clowns and hounds unbound and send them to the ditches in the ground. Oh boy you got it real bad, stick this in your vein like coming in your hand. Feel the eyes all follow me, as I’m walking down the street, and if you feel it they know, and they’ll erect their shrine of gold and stand out in the cold and they’ll speculate the date you blew your brains out at your home, and they’ll wish they could let it go, and relinquish their control, and articulate the nuance that came flowing from your soul. They’re starry eyed for death but loving every breath and craving life that’s passing out until there’s nothing left, and breaking at the knees under the air that we breathe, but still waking up each morning to go sweep the fallen leaves and its getting tighter I know, and I’ll kill you all, and I’ll stand out there as if I had any choice at all.
4.
Take me like a pill: Take me like a pill, and lean out on your windowsill, smoking cigarettes until contemplating cheaper thrills. Go against the grain, bootstrap kicking back the flowing lane, feigning tear-stained on the train with old bombs bursting in your brain. And it’s always one more taste, it’s always gonna be that way, and in your aching, stubborn hurt, you’re blind to the binds that tie you in to the dirt. Ride me like a wave, an amusement arcade, the faded town depraved too dark to save it just remains. Bear it like a weight, the images that animate, and syringes full of hate pull fate while you disintegrate. And it’s always one more taste, it’s always gonna be that way, and in your aching, stubborn hurt, you’re blind to the binds that tie you in to the dirt. And the liquor isn’t burning for you, I’ve forgotten what it feels like for you, I’ve been here too long, I’ve been here too long. Pissing in the wind, lying for the sake of it, throwing stones at aeroplanes I’m not insane just out of range.
5.
Contaminates 02:56
Contaminates: You’re living off contaminates, the water-willing world, and every distance from my way, living in my everyday, and everyday is colder now the sunlight slips away, and every way is shorter than the time it takes to play. Hey… I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight. Hey… I’ve found a way of moving all the time. If you crumble do it quietly, scream through quilted finery, ring the bell and walk away, my two-stroke-engine, bird-of-prey, and pray I will before the end, my final acts condemned, the wonder of dumfounded men, time to re-begin. Hey… I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight. Hey… I’ve found a way of moving all the time. You’re swimming in conglomerates of disinfected waves, and your sanctimony only scares you as much as it saves, and saviour is your final word, the revolutions close, the interloper in the court and imposters on the throne. Hey… I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight. Hey… I’ve found a way of moving all the time.
6.
I'm The Man 03:16
I’m The Man I’m the man, with the trembling hands, a rented room, alone in a Sunday doom, there’s no one here, except that slow and slouching fear, that all my days are boredom and minimum wage. Because you work all week, behave and slave and count the fucking days until you, break, down and out, because it’s easier than being around. I’m the man, with the trembling hands, and I don’t mean to, but I fall short and I fall through, it’s how I’m raised, by this town and society, the fierce and brave, tipped in to the unmarked grave. A hell in parallel, another friend just killed themselves, can’t tell, by all the well trained years, of holding back all the tears. I’m the rage, that won’t be diminished of assuaged, when I realise, I’ve internalised the lies, I carelessly caught, to reinforce my fractured front, and that’s their trick, born blank and grown up sick. Stem the thoughts that flow, with night, moonlight and drink and blow and show that heart of stone, TV on, in the vapid escapist home, magnolia lino alone, and a fear right down to the bone.
7.
Violent Dreams You’re the king of all your violent dreams, the rules you set in stone, an empty glass of kerosene to fuel the fire below, you’re the god of all that you survey, but no god even looks at me, another dialling tone. I’ve been down I’ve been losing sleep, I’ve been moving like a beast. Show me your scars, where your broken bones are poking through the holes, I’ll show you the bite marks of your teeth. You worship all your impulses, the frequencies that ring, and I’ve been hungover for 5 years, but I’ll go drink again, tired games towards my bed, what’s one more between fucking friends, and no friend fucks like you. I’m sick and tired of these confines, I’m a slave to grey skies. Show me your love for this post-industrial riverbed of rust, I’ll show you the heights that we could climb. Oh the smell of sweet decay, in this daytime TV power-play. Well the shadow on the bathroom wall tells me the sun’s about to fall, like the blood into the sink, and the clinging vomit stink, and you’re going out tonight, your well-researched, reflex fight or flight, to get out of your head and to get someone in your bed. Amphetamine buzz and alcohol fuzz, my old friends pride and greed and lust, I tried to hide behind my lies but nothing else now will suffice, it’s half 5 in the morning, alive with a warning, licking powder off a mirror with the daylight dawning. Show me your pride, in this D-Day, Dunkirk, Viking, Jacobite, I’ll show you the places where I’d hide. I’m always voting with my feet, they float above the ground, a disconnection from the world like a spark that gets drowned out, pour some petrol in to me, I’ll show you all my energy, we’ll be like rays of sun. Lipstick’s on the bathroom wall, we’re writing in our code. Give me an inch, and I’ll be your blue eyed Sunday morning bitch, pull the pin and watch me explode.
8.
Digging for the sun You let me in your room, that night I fell for you like rising from the tomb, and you let me in your world, and you revealed the inner workings of you girl. At sunrise on the beach the sand in swirling spires gets stuck in your teeth, and you’re voiceless like the sea a question on your lips you can’t convey to me. Don’t cry your life away, you’re digging for the sun, face like a loaded gun. Grit your teeth and clench your fists you’re swinging for no one, your work is never done. You’re the air that goes unseen between the breaths when you forget that you’re breathing, in the idyll in my mind, a place I’ve never been a dream on rewind, and I’ll always find you there, when we’re alone together breathing the same air, and it plays like living life, a dance of ecstasy on secret edge of knife. Don’t cry your life away, you’re digging for the sun, face like a loaded gun. Grit your teeth and clench your fists you’re swinging for no one, your work is never done.
9.
What’s the catch Hey what’s the catch, I’m gonna scratch the itch that bleeds upon my tongue, that supersedes the chosen one. And ties it in, to all the greed and all the avarice and sin, and all your elephants and gin. And takes it home, to those dark satanic tenements in rows and all the concrete and the stone, and brings it back, like the tyrant who in impotent decline still hands out lashings in his mind. And I’ve been trying to be, in the absence of society, the myth of me and all I believe in, and I’ll go to hell, but I’m bringing you all down with me as well, another life in the age of reason. And stiches up, the blackened livers and the smog corrupted lungs, the children raised on chains and guns, and cracks the whip still keeping lookout from the masts of sinking ships for freedom flowing from your lips, and in my dreams I wake to pulsing, beating, screaming melodies of places I have never seen, and feels the way, like the soap and water coursing through my veins is washed away by falling rain. And I’ve been trying to be, in the absence of society, the myth of me and all I believe in, and I’ll go to hell, but I’m bringing you all down with me as well, another life in the age of reason.

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released August 1, 2019

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Tom Ashman Scotland, UK

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