1. |
Holtzman Drive
03:18
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(instumental)
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2. |
Redshift
04:17
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|
“Disowned.” The monkey groaned, “Pick up the phone…”
A misanthrope with a rope and no hope… alone.
Bagpipes for Bonzo, or so it goes.
Sing-song suckers, sci-fi fuckers, I suppose.
Yeah!
Redshift…
Yeah!
Pile-driven, unforgiven and giving up.
Up the junction. The monkey cries real tears. Ahhh…
A space suit, a dark chute, forbidden fruit.
A pot to piss in, a clear vision. OK, what’s missing?
Oh yeah… need to give in to this decision…
Yeah!
Redshift…
Yeah!
Yeah...
Yeah!
Redshift…
Yeah!
Monkey do what monkey see. Monkey
not the salt of society, but he got
a clear vision, one last mission, or so he sees.
Eyes open, a misanthrope with a rope, no hope.
And in the background, bagpipes, I suppose.
Sing-song suckers, sci-fi fuckers. Down the chute he goes!
Redshift…
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3. |
||||
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Open the escape hatch.
Let me feel the atmosphere.
Hmmm...
Quiet, overwhelming.
Different than in here…
Random calculations
and endless reports.
I’m sure someone knows we’re out here,
but I'm not sure anyone knows what for.
Tethered to the pod
and floating weightless now.
There is nothing more I could possibly want.
So cut the cord.
Cut the cord...
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4. |
Atomic Lover
03:11
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|
Maybe this is it.
It could be the big one.
Leave your things and go,
everything’s about to blow to
smithereens.
Rising in the North,
exploding like a bomb,
you’re the one
no one compares to.
Atomic lover, atomic lover...
Radiating girl,
ever-expanding outward,
you’re the one
no one compares to.
Atomic lover, atomic lover…
Meltdown in my mind.
I didn’t see the signs.
Lighting up the sky.
Event horizon time.
Sheltered by the fallout, baby.
Rising in the North,
exploding like a bomb,
you’re the one
no one compares to.
Atomic lover, atomic lover…
Radiating girl,
ever-expanding outward,
you’re the one
no one compares to.
Atomic lover, atomic lover…
Mushroom cloud of love,
illuminate my world.
Lift me off the face.
Energize this place.
Set me off to outer space.
Rising in the North,
exploding like a bomb,
you’re the one
no one compares to.
Atomic lover, atomic lover…
Radiating girl,
ever-expanding outward,
you’re the one
no one compares to.
Atomic lover, atomic lover…
Reeling from the force,
excited to the core.
You’re the one
no one compares to.
Atomic lover, atomic lover…
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5. |
Craters
03:09
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When I was young
I dreamt I was an alien.
Antennae on my head
and in my hand, a laser gun.
Stood upon a crater crest,
looking into the abyss.
No fear of consequence,
willing to take the risk.
What was waiting
at the bottom of the crater?
Tentacles in the mist,
clearly I saw something moving.
But when the vapor cleared
it appeared to be nothing.
I was not scared,
I wanted the experience.
Now that I have grown up,
I dream that I’m an astronaut.
Budgets and star charts,
geometric plots.
Checklists and sign-offs,
setbacks and re-stocks.
Tampered data, faulty gear.
Craters full of moon rocks.
Craters full of moon rocks.
There is really nothing here
but craters full of moon rocks...
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6. |
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I knew it the second I saw her…
(I caught Chelsea red-handed)
A sly smile split her lips.
(I caught Chelsea red-handed)
Too many nights and days in space
(I caught Chelsea red-handed)
and I know what she was doing up there…
(I caught Chelsea red-handed)
I watched her leave.
Her heart was pure,
her hands were clean.
Oh-oh-oh, Chelsea, Chelsea, Chelsea…
She tried to play it down
(I caught Chelsea red-handed)
but I knew something was up.
(I caught Chelsea red-handed)
Her signal, scrambled since lift-off
(I caught Chelsea red-handed)
and there were no moonbeams in her eyes…
(I caught Chelsea red-handed)
I watched her go.
Her silvery hands,
her heart of gold.
Oh-oh-oh, Chelsea, Chelsea, Chelsea…
Oh-oh, Chelsea.
Oh-oh, Chelsea.
Oh-oh, Chelsea,
what have you done?
I knew it the second I saw her…
(I caught Chelsea red-handed)
There was something different about her.
(I caught Chelsea red-handed)
The Plain of Mars was covered in rust
(I caught Chelsea red-handed)
and I know what she was doing up there…
(I caught Chelsea red-handed)
I caught Chelsea...
I watched her leave.
Her heart was pure,
her hands were clean.
Oh-oh-oh, Chelsea, Chelsea, Chelsea…
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7. |
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|
I heard
strange birds
flew over the rivers
of Mars.
Weird things
with wings
covering
Reull Vallis.
Stripped clean
the Highlands,
all the way down to
the Basin.
Could’ve had
a wingspan
long as a horse or
a small car.
Females
were feathered.
And males
had scales.
I heard
strange birds
flew over the rivers
of Mars.
Weird things
with wings
covering
Reull Vallis.
Stripped clean
the Highlands,
and laid to waste
the Basin.
Their lust
for life
led them to extinction,
extinction...
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8. |
Little Death/Blueshift
07:50
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Little Death
was a man
with a raygun
in his hand.
Little Death
had a monkey
on his back
and a raygun
in his hand.
Little Death
had a plan
and a raygun
in his hand.
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9. |
||||
|
I stopped to look around.
The holes, like open mouths,
coughing rings of sulfur…
Gateways to the core!
I thought for just a moment,
and picked the one I wanted.
This would be the end
or beginning of my journey.
My coded notes were written
in a language I no longer
understood…
Hmmm... gateways.
Gateways to the core!
This would be the end
or beginning of my journey...
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10. |
Box Of Beating Hearts
06:35
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I blame the blue one,
but the red one's got
the box of beating hearts.
The green one's got the gun, man.
But I've blamed
the blue one from the start.
We all have our opinions.
I know.
We all play favorites.
I know, I know...
I trust the tall one.
That short, little shit,
he's got the worst of it
under his tongue.
The tall one talks in circles,
but he's the one
that told me about the green one's gun.
We all have our notions, concoctions and potions.
I know.
We all have something up our sleeves.
I know, I know...
I point the finger
at you.
You point the finger
at me.
The box is wide open, it's overflowing.
I know.
And all of our chests are empty.
I know, I know.
Yes, all of our chests are empty.
I know, I know...
That's why I say
we are, we are, we are,
we are all empty...
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11. |
Craters, Later...
01:58
|
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I suppose, when I grow old,
I'll tell stories of my life.
Tales of wonder to behold.
Craters covered, vapor-white.
Of creatures catalogued by tag,
specimen in tiny bags,
calculating lunar drag...
And all of these great memories
will sound a lot like dreams I've had.
They'll sound a lot like dreams I've had...
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Simian Crease Puyallup, Washington
An "extremely prolific and creative studio project..." ~ Fabricoh Magazine
Featured track on
94.7 FM Too at 2: 'Prickly Little Unicorn'
"I really enjoy Taipei EP, too bad it ends so quickly..." ~ Solance/Audio Camp
"Experimental rock treasures" and "the underground sound is fully-realized and surprisingly adventurous..." ~ Music Emissions
Simian Crease is Mike Miles.
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