1. |
Sinking Ship
04:24
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Sliding into chaos on a sinking ship
Sliding into chaos with no end in sight
Not a day goes by that I don’t regret but I’m not dead or in jail
Mother’s milk turns to wine and whine turns into trauma fodder
Distant offspring commiserating over RBG
My ankle buckles but I run on bloodied knees.
Six figures and a pool and Joan Crawford’s six-shooter
Gun’s fake but the threat is real
Pining over a junkie’s dream.
Loose ends now and on the street
Can’t force myself but still looking for that sinking ship.
Captain’s on the beach; I miss you but I’m no child
Captain’s on the beach but I’m no small pale child
Sliding into chaos on a sinking ship
Sliding into chaos with no end in sight
Broadcast redhead with tearful cred. Hollywood death still shakes the bed.
Daily updates grow infrequent now did anyone ever really care anyhow?
Trying to live in the pestilence and strife -- I don’t want happiness, I want a life
Inheritance hinders -- sucking on the tit; nanny state proof to say I’ve done it
Take a younger lover, take control of my life
Blue eyed flicker hooked up to bluetooth on a cold night
Captain’s on the beach; I miss you but I’m no child
Captain’s on the beach but I’m no small pale child
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2. |
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Late-stage capital laid bare
All the things they told us not to share
Late-stage capital laid bare
Look, I used spit ill rhymes with quickness but sickness got real not a metaphor what you yelling USA is better for
Paranoia every little cough cough think I got the rona, bout to be a goner, wanna die with honor, thinking bout the stuff I never did
Deep breath, still alive that's a good thing, should sing about the real plague that you could bring cripple these economies ain't no thing
Job gone, house gone - bittersweet cuz - putting people in the streets what shit does
Fighting for the right to not get murdered in daylight by these motherfuckers one way or another
The real sickness it's still alright for some to die while others give applause so fuck those cops and the motherfuckin' laws
Late-stage capital laid bare
All the things they told us not to share
Late-stage capital laid bare
Look, we're coming through though, you know handshakin' like Justin Trudeau
Look at this jackass, time to coup, go to town on that pony like yankee doodle
Hey hey hey, like Albert's fat, diabetes, asthma, shit like that got me staying inside to avoid the risk, fool trying to turn the page like an almanac
Hey Biff Tannen, the future that I'm plannin', infect 'em where they're standing and keep dismissing facts our lifespan keeps getting shorter, is it by design? Hey, perhaps.
Huh – but what about the real pain, everyday pain, struggling to make ends even take end
My pantry ain't stocked for economic collapse
Everyday relapse apropos, are we gonna make it, shit I don't know
But if you ask the earth it's time for us to go
Late-stage capital laid bare
All the things they told us not to share
Late-stage capital laid bare
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3. |
Bury It Deep
02:50
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Just bury it deep. [bury it deep]
Just bury it deep - yah.
Nepotism and sycophancy -- merit means nothing
Facts (like a hat) are not up for debate
Trading science for spin -- I don’t feel safe
Day of the dead protects the weak.
Pol Pot killed teachers -- I’ll try not to freak.
Neo liberal talking points hide callous joints
Fever dreams of the right are prepared to annoint
Wave the tear gas away with the KJV
Holding upside down is no redemption or feat.
Can’t argue with science so just bury it deep.
Books pile up and weed dwindles down
Bury it deep in a hollowed out town
Books pile up and weed dwindles down
Bury me deep in a hollowed out town
Why you tellin’ immigrants to suck it?
It’s the global capitalists proppin’ up the market.
Fear permeates all aspects of life.
Imagine caravaning to escape that strife
Lock, load and shuffle me -- corneas glued to robotic dreams.
Disease makes money while Mitch pitches graft deep
Can’t argue with science so just bury it deep.
Books pile up and weed dwindles down
Bury it deep in a hollowed out town
Books pile up and weed dwindles down
Bury me deep in a hollowed out town
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4. |
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I’ve lost track. I’m runnin’ down.
A black hole. A stunning sound.
Death saves the pure. It runs you down.
I’ve lost track...
I wasted a year -- Science denied, can't stay inside
I wasted a year -- Skyrocket numbers, unemployment summers
I wasted a year -- The house and the senate invented dependent
I wasted a year -- Released from my lease, fuck the police
They killing my sisters and brothers
No empathy for each other
No Christmas, no stimulus
This is death of small businesses
Exhausted my benefit
Currency currently counterfeit
Why can't they wear a mask
Why can't you wear a mask
I’ve lost track. I’m runnin’ down.
A black hole. A stunning sound.
Death saves the pure. It runs you down.
I wasted a year -- Lost track of the fact now they backing the vac
I wasted a year -- No funding to teach, they breach and impeach
I wasted a year -- Collateral damages, checks and balances
I wasted a year -- No justice no peace, fuck the police
They killing my sisters and brothers
White robes with a badge undercover
Operation moving warp speed
Don't give a damn what the poor need
Dispute results of election
That’s the complexion for protection
Why can't they wear a mask
Why can't you wear a mask
I’ve lost track. I’m runnin’ down.
A black hole. A stunning sound.
Death saves the pure. It runs you down.
I’ve lost track...
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5. |
One Nine
03:56
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Break me up…
Break me down
I’ll build you up
Got me freakin’ in the one-nine
My mask don’t fit -- don’t make me feel asinine
Got me chillin’ in a burning world
Makes me feel… wait what’s that word? Oh yeah, absurd
Get correct they shouted in my face
Get outside they said
There’s too much space. Won’t show my face.
Break me up…
Break me down
I’ll build you up
Got me thinkin’ ‘bout the latex
Should be usin’ my cortex
Distant? Yeah it’s in my head tho
Lump in my chest bumpin’ in my cart
I’m holin’ up at home to focus on my art
Trippin’ in the grass where there ain’t no masks
There’s too much space. Won’t show my face.
Break me up…
Break me down
I’ll build you up
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6. |
Lock It Down
03:21
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Every day’s the same -- I’m getting soft
Every day’s the same -- I’m getting weak
Every day’s the same -- I’m getting old
Every day’s the same -- I’m getting weak
Can’t measure up; can’t do right; can’t feel hope; can’t spend the night
A pleasant tryst, a broken heart; I’ll write some songs -- pull shit apart
Restless wallet, EBT, a call from Jones will life be free?
Every day is the same -- doom scroll and hate watch
Every day is the same -- handful of remorse
Every day is the same -- I’ll wake up alone
Lock it down. Shovel funds into the maw of the hungry
Every day’s the same -- I’m getting soft
Every day’s the same -- I’m getting weak
Every day’s the same -- I’m getting old
Every day’s the same -- I’m getting weak
Wake up alone, I fuck when I can, dream-damaged pixels, there’s no fucking plan
Fleeting, obscure, in cold sheets, 420’s real, I bloodied my knees
Like a prison cell with conjugal visits, need a human glance -- is that so illicit?
Every day is the same -- read listen and watch
Every day is the same -- blackbirds remorse
Every day is the same -- I’ll wake up alone
Lock it down. Shovel funds into the maw of the hungry
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7. |
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8. |
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9. |
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10. |
Wasted (Suspension Mix)
02:37
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11. |
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12. |
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Bell & Circuit Madison, Wisconsin
Bell & Circuit is Russell Emerson Hall.
Computer-assembled soundscapes and songs built from samples, sounds, machines, and guitars. Trip-dub unabashedly influenced by Ninja Tune.
Bell & Circuit recommends:
Former-Madison beatmaker. Abstract beats/instrumental hip-hop. Indebted to DJ Krush and Autechre. Chill the fuck out.
go to album
Trapped In Amber Sample Pack
by Bell & Circuit Samplepacks
Tracks and FREE sample packs from my YouTube beat-making channel
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Daughters Of Saint Crispin
by Daughters Of Saint Crispin
My noisy, drum-machine driven slow-core band. RIYL: Big Brave, Jesu, Amenra, My Disco, Nadja, Godflesh, Earth
go to albumIf you like Bell & Circuit, you may also like:
Figure and Ground
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supported by 5 fans who also own “Look Into My Eyes; It's Where My Demons Hide”
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vote of no confidence
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supported by 5 fans who also own “Look Into My Eyes; It's Where My Demons Hide”
They are a tight three piece from Chicago who are grossly underrated
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Cheaper Than Therapy
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The latest from UK artist Kid Bookie is impossible to pin down, offering taut grime beats one minute and cutting alt-rock grooves the next.
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