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Bumfuzzle

by Sponkers

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1.
Get Well K8 03:17
They say good things come to those who wait But I've waited long enough for a lifetime; Long enough to have found something better than what I initially waited for Something worth waiting Something worth work Something that won't turn me into some kind of big jerk Someone worth dating Somewhat descend Into the arms long awaited: ideal dividend So get Get well, Kate Get. Well. Kate. Get well soon. You keep your feet on my dashboard You leave your junk in my room Yeah, I'm a sucker for a glutton and you make me swoon You say you're not that high maintenance You also say you're not great So why the hell am I anxious when you're six hours late? "Oh, well I'm just bad at timing" Is a shitty excuse Be that paired with the time I wasted waiting doesn't give me much use So get Get well, Kate Get well, Kate Get well Sue me. I'm awful intolerant Are there hints I'm dropping that you don't get Pay your own rent with money spent Dipsomaniac wingding Religious alien nut What you're saying is bullshit thus your mouth is your butt Look. I don't doubt you're suffering I'm suffering, too From dealing with whatever made this monstrous mess outta you, baby Kate So get Get well, Kate Get well, Kate Get well soon
2.
3.
Poor boy holds you so neat in his tick-tockin chest, tucked behind his ribs and a bullet proof vest but that won't stop your curious knife from dissecting his head, locating the best bed for to lay the lighter fluid Poor boy, brush fire's goin', smoke is combing his hair, speaking for the air that he needed to see and breathe. Out will pour his envy, out will pour his control, poor boy pours the whiskey, and gets to thinking: I've become a fractal for your kaleidoscope, I've become a fractal for you. I spy the others glinting and I feel no hope. I've become a fractal for your kaleidoscope. Poor boy ain't ever dig the dude swingin' from your neck sippin' from your grin like it's tonic and gin and out pour the bleating jealousies - converge cyclically, shoving heaving inching pinching clinching cinching wrenching crimping never ever touching winds screaming for you singing for you listen to them sing: I've become a fractal for your kaleidoscope, I've become a fractal for you. I spy the others glinting and I feel no hope. I've become a fractal for your kaleidoscope. Keep on twisting, you'll see, we're still shifting, for you, all of us are shifting for you, all of this and how for you all of this for you all of this for you all of this for you
4.
5.
Finch 05:10
If I were a bird I Know that I would be still, right here next to you on this park bench and I do a little jiggle little wiggle little jig little birdie dance for you I'd puff all my feathers out, shake 'em all about and my bitty birdie brain pan twould be strugglin for a game plan would it be a cinch for the finch I'd be? I'd sing for thee. *birdsounds* flying after you is all I'd ever do dip my wings in glue still I'd sing through tainted blue flying after you my vector'd be so god damn true flying after you like the lace of an undone shoe fringillidae fringillidae either way either way from the branches babe I'd cry, ohhh *birdsounds* *guitar solo* flying after you is all I'd ever do dip my wings in glue still I'd sing through tainted blue flying after you my vector'd be so god damn true flying after you like the lace of an undone shoe choked up lungs will see me through flying after you choked up lungs will see me through flying after you
6.
Quit hating yer neighbor If you don't hate yer neighbor, quit looking for another neighbor to hate
7.
I need a roommate; I need a couch I need a TV. Mine's moving out. I don't wanna make out. Can't stand to shove my tongue in your small mouth. Don't idealize other strangers before you've ever even met. Hit that button with red circle on your audiocassette And duplicate the playback in your little wooden tape deck. Don't idealize other strangers. Yeah. I'm still wearing my ex girlfriend's clothes. Pent up; avoidant 'til my bearings grow. In moderation every stoic knows That one should never wear ex girlfriends' clothes. Of inundations it's the bottommost, Even if you think you look better in em anyway One should never wear ex girlfriends' clothes. Yeah. Yikeso bikeso, everybody ghosts. Gamophobia knows such anecdotes. I can't unsee her face as a cockroach, Yet I'm wearing my ex girlfriend's coat. Yeah. Much too big a bite of sobering thought: "Look here, the free world," said the argonaut Watching the mountains he so avidly sought. Local militia saw a lesson to be taught. Unseen, it only took one gunshot. Now his body's left to rot. "Look here, the free world," said the argonaut. Yeah.
8.
Que Sriracha 04:37
I'm sick of cigarettes So much it hurts Still I smoke cigarettes like some jerk I'm sick of cigarettes Clinging to cherubs' breath I'm sick of cigarettes And what happened to this head? Where's my Sigmund Freud; An absent mind to circumspect some prolonged, benign negelct Neglect brought us here, I guess I want a cigarette as the rancorously odorous cherubs' breath still reeks of cigarettes People are stupid And then they die, and that's what makes me happy If money is time Which one am I wasting more and that's what keeps me wondering Is everyone this neurotic or is it just me? Que Sriracha; what'll be will be And it's a la-dee-da-da la-dee-da-da-da-da I don't wanna sleep alone Que sera sera Se la vie; what'll be will be One in a million Food allergy Some swollen-throated soliloquy My gut is murdering my head So barren-spirited and full of all that bread And what is celiac disease? It's a million degrees This real infectious kryptonyte is dressed to look like wheat And who put this on my plate? Self-imposed self hate; A malignantly ponderous conundrum of what I think I ate People are stupid And then they die, and that's what makes me happy If money is time Which one am I wasting more and that's what keeps me wondering Is everyone this neurotic or is it just me? Que Sriracha; what'll be will be And it's a la-dee-da-da la-dee-da-da-da-da I don't wanna sleep alone Que sera sera Se la vie; what'll be will be
9.
10.
Jerge 05:10
Closer to paradise than ever in the longest while Hushing the worries away through a succulent tube Pulling the ceiling over my shoulder; clandestine Stowing myself as I struggle to reach for the snooze Favoritism always goes to the dog that shits outside To be an angel or drunk with vitriol: which one am i? The final frontier of social taboo is facial tattoos A song about silence: endearing crux to bear A decent sense of humor helps the time go by The band, They Might Be Giants, is always playing in the air Ashes, ashes; dust to dust. Yahweh. The dog is fine If only there were better ways to tame this cranky, restless mind Theo Avoiding the sun, barely working a living off nothing Yet spending my earnings like some bashfully handsome tycoon The internet is a graveyard of sorts for half-baked ideas Both that and my wallet keep me from leaving this room I'm not leaving this room Maybe if we'd met last year things would be much different Headfirst into a daydream, I erroneously forget Theo
11.
12.
Again you're in my light, infiltrate my sight, make me feel insane. Your eyes change color with your moods, create a silence we'd share I'd never dare intrude. And I just don't know what to do about it... A whole lotta nothin' is what I'm gonna do. My silly synapses always seem to snap these darling photos of you. They'll present the stills and I'll swallow (like pills) the inklings they make me feel. And I just don't know what to do about it. A whole lotta nothin' is what I'm gonna do. oh yeah, absolutely nothing, much ado, yeah cuz I design the darkest storms, I'm the nimbus to your cumulo and I torture myself on a daily basis, just by thinking of you but I'm gonna do that anyway cuz I'm a masochist (masochist, masochist, masochist) Circular magnetics present in our first kiss by that gray trash can, A primitive reaction accelerates attraction, for you I'd write anything in my lawn. Oh and I just don't know what to do about it. A whole lotta nothin' is what I'm gonna do. really and truly you know sittin' around... I design the darkest storms, I'm the nimbus for your cumulo. And I torture myself (That's good) On a daily basis, Just by thinking of you. (But I'm going to do that, indeed!) A whole lotta nothin' is what I'm gonna do.
13.
I want to be buried naked, weary, shaking, naked. I want to be buried naked, weary, shaking, insane.
14.
LD parks his light blue car; makes his way inside Doesn't hesitate to always speak his thoughts Loves to contemplate, then debate an unspoken societal conduct But doesn’t see what’s wrong with saying Wang isn’t a bad first name. Wang Then you’ve got the whole “-ang” family Fang, bang, tang… Tang. It’s a juice Mindy’s wild gossip’s spreading terroristic feud You’re swaying Palestinians to stick it with a Jew, Ignoring Cheryl’s feelings, falling from an altitude Cause the TiVo guy is in the living room So we shout, “Thanks, bald asshole!” Don’t condescend me with your tiny pear I’m not the one who has a problem here, friend You are. You are A sect; a group. That’s a hate crime With all due respect, Officer Berg, you are not bald. You've chosen to shave your hair and that's a look you're cultivating In order to look fashionable, but we don't really consider you part of the bald community With all due respect Thanks, bald asshole Bowing too obtuse at the Japanese is awful rude Critiques society unless its head is just as nude Thanks, bald asshole
15.

about

This album was knit with love in each and every stitch.

credits

released December 19, 2017

Produced by: Sponkers
Mixed and Mastered by: John Remington
Tracks 2, 4, 6, 9, 11 & 13 Mixed by: Graham Albright
Additional Engineering by: John Miller

Personel:
Drums - Jason Lilly
Bass/Clarinet/Mandolin/Banjo/Backing Vocals - Bradford Beard
Guitar/Piano/Vocals - John Remington
Guitar/Glockenspiel/Synthesizers/Vocals - Graham Albright
Barks - Theo

"To my Theo. The influence and light you bring this world couldn't inspire me to create enough art to reciprocate how I cherish our company." - Graham

Special thanks to archive.org for providing "Tête-à-Tête Avec Monsieur Johnston" with: "film reel sound" ; "french lesson" ; and "french concert"

and providing "The Song (Thanks Bald Asshole)" with: "crowd sounds" ; "applause" ; and the Larry David interview from What Else is News - March 31 2004 used in consideration of the CC BY-NC-SA 3.0 US copyright (creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/us/), thus said track falls under the aforementioned license.

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Sponkers Boston, Massachusetts

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