AntiponkAntidoxa

These songs were all part of a personal project where the point was to write, compose, record and mix a song with whatever was in my home, all under one day. That explains, you will see, the sometimes awkward lyrics. To any budding musician, I really recommend this exercise! It’s hard, but exciting, you end up writing surrealistic things, and in the end, you get awesome memories out of it.

Gathering all these lyrics on one page makes me realize that I may be obsessed with body parts.

SPACE COFFEE

Morning starts with a cup of coffee (having sex with that cup of coffee), looking down my hands, thinking they’re dirty. Then I wake up with a cigarette, and don’t tell me that it’s not healthy. Looking down my hands – they’re beginning to stink. “Oh my, what have you done to yourself? It’s not a crime, I know, but maybe you should raise your head.”

I wanna get rich, rich, rich, and there’s only one way. I wanna get filthy rich, and there’s only one thing to say. “I will surely do it,” you can just have your way. Just come and bend over a bit – there’s no reason to be scared.

Wait. What have I done to myself? It’s not a crime, sure, I know, but it does feel like I’m scared.

I spit the tar out of my nostrils and made myself some more coffee. And, yeah, I hid my hands – you cannot want to see. There are marks all over my hands my body and my spoon… What’s in that coffee? Oh no, I drank something to be feared. The date is off, maybe, or I just had too much of it.

I wanna get rich, rich, rich, and there’s only one way. I wanna get filthy rich, and there’s only one thing to say. “I will surely do it,” you can just have your way. Just come and bend over a bit – there’s no reason to be scared.

UNBORN CHICKEN

Here: all is done. If you would only let me wash my hands? I have buried the bodies deep inside the garden. I hid the fork and the knife I used, no one must know what I’ve eaten.

Unlike what you think, I am not wild. In spite of your words, I am no child: when I killed them I shed no tear, but I kept a claw to remember.

I am now entering the game you won’t show what sort of care is here I go and I’m not restraining the blow, the blow.

A morose eye looks at me – I thought I killed the chicken?

I killed it, I baked it, I ate it. It still lives – will it want to revenge? It seems I need to have a plan real fast. Where did I put my gun?

As far as I’m concerned I’m full of guile if you didn’t get the pun then you’re the child unlike what doctors say I am not wild please make sure you get that I am no child

SET SAIL

She’s herding lies in her mouth like it’s not your problem. The searing thoughts give you pain, but no technical help. “You’ll clean up in the bath,” hearing that makes you so dark. So dark, the marks won’t cleanse the wrath.

So you get a boat, make it float, make it rock in the tub. Look at it sink, push it back up the surface again, and set sail in silence. Leave her on the land and glide, so fast the faucet is your mast.

“Don’t go you’re not a hero, you’re not a hero…”

She looks from the shore and she’s small like you’re already gone. A smile on your face is not fake, you take your handkerchief. Waves crash in the bath; you know you’re gonna sink and wash the past that stuck to your life.

RUSSIAN ROULETTE

When I am weak with the pain in my legs, and I don’t know what is really my age. Here is your chance, man, grab the gun and play. Here is your chance, you can at last enter the game. When I am fed up and I’ve gone astray. Tears from my mother have no more effect. Then put me down, man, before it’s too late, crush me so bad I can’t even stand back up.

No way, no way. Everyone has got to stay. I won’t have it any other way. No way, no way.

When I want to pull the trigger I assure you I will, and the desolate look on your face won’t make me move an inch. I will lose no time in making sure you die. I will turn into a monster before you can bat an eye.

As times goes by the sweat begins to spread. Does she mean that or is she insane? I hear the thoughts unfold in your head. They’re not too bright but I didn’t expect a thing. I have to say that you hold yourself straight, even standing in front of a real babe. How can you think with your dick in the way. How can you not see my anger though it’s a real threat?

No way, no way. Everyone just has to stay. I won’t have it any other way. No way, no way.

When I am weak with the lack of true faith, and I don’t know why I keep myself clean. When I can’t see the point in a mistake, I don’t care what works as long as it’s something that’s mean. When I can’t find it in me to feel shame, and if you’re unhappy then it’s the same. When I behave like living is a game, please put me down – but after the last cigarette.

STOMP

I’m stomping out on the machine, not working out: do you see that sweat? It’s not dead yet, and I worry. Give me a hand. Well I don’t know if I care, but I won’t budge till it’s done. Can you take that screwdriver? Come over and join the fun. Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.

This mechanical thing is my life. It’s my family, my home and my tears. Like a weird camel careening, and I want it to stop. Well I don’t know if I care, but I won’t budge till it’s done. Can you take that screwdriver? Come over and join the fun.

Can you take that screwdriver so we may stomp the ghost? There will be no survivors, and we will screw and roast.

I’m stomping out on the machine, I’m quite grossed out – do you see it squirm? It needs to pay for the lonely nights I’m alone at my desk and the keyboard’s laughing so bad. Well I don’t know if I care, but I won’t budge till it’s done. Can you take that screwdriver? Come over and join the fun. Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.

I FEEL FINE

My toes have swollen like a balloon, are my eyes really all right? A humming sound comes from my thumb: I guess my ears go blind. But I feel fine, I feel fine. I don’t really get what’s going on, my limbs are in a heap. I can’t seem to be functioning right, my battery is low, ow, ow, ow, and I feel fine. I feel fine.

“Maybe it’s the drugs getting to your head?” I don’t take them. “Or maybe you’re just a little insane?” I’ll let you know that I feel fine.

I was made to jump out of my skin, they took it out from me. They stretched it and made a trampoline, a bunny jumped on it. And I feel fine, I feel fine. It’s high time I get my money back: I was had on the way! Somewhere someone thought I was easy – the hit is fucking low, ow, ow, ow, I feel fine, I feel fine.

“Maybe it’s the drugs getting to your head?” I don’t take them. “Or maybe you’re just a little insane?” I’ll have you know that I feel fine.

A rabbit tooth fell in my hand, it must be a trap of some kind. I won’t feel lost because I must, but if I need to I’ll pretend. Listen to us, you sickly child, if you don’t stand up you’re gonna die. But I never signed up for this – there’s no refund for a loser’s kiss.

I’m up to my neck in great trouble, oh if I could reach a helpful hand, but no one seems to bother these days, if only I wasn’t alone. So I cloned myself and hoped it would word, but I kinda forgot the fingerprints. I figured it wouldn’t matter too much: I got heaps and heaps of finger paint. But I am unsure – is this really why I am there? And is there a cure – can I make them disappear? The clones are inured to almost every poison.

Well at least it proved useful at first, until the day comes when they’re just invaders. So you got to do what you got to do…in order for order to reign. Take the finger paint and splash! If it splatters they’ll surely spill. You can close your eyes and pretend it’s blood, you’re ripping a throat and biting on flesh. But I am unsure – is this really why I am there? And is there a cure – can I make them disappear? The clones are inured to almost every poison.

“Maybe it’s the drugs getting to your head?” I don’t take them. “Or maybe you’re just a little insane?” I’ll have you know that I feel fine.

TREES OF WAR

“Please don’t go, don’t go.” Watch the army marching forward. Who do you think they’ve gone to shred? They sing, “lalalalala la la la la,” and the wives by their sides wipe their tears. “Please don’t go,” they say, “please don’t go,” and the voice of anger screams in their eyes, but the country’s at war and they have to take sides.

From behind the hill a young man comes, he plays the flute with extreme skill. Upon seeing such a strange sight all the men come to a stop. He says, “wipe your tears and hold your tongue,” he says, “you have much to struggle for.” Archers and riders get ready to fight: they don’t know this man who dares hold a flute. How perverse to nag the ones who are going to die.

The young man laughs and climbs a tree. Perched on a branch he claims he’s the forest sprite, the men back up in fear. With a vengeful strike he unleashes the killing blow: the whole army is swept in a second and the wives look at him. And the voice of anger screams in their eyes, but the country’s a war and they had to take sides. “Please don’t go…”

From behind the hill a young man goes, he plays the flute with extreme skill. Upon seeing such a strange sigh, all the trees come to a stop.

HEAR OUR SOUNDS

Do you think that if I, if I sang a deaf cry, another sense could compensate. It could grow from my mind, and maybe I would fly – anything to cross the gate. It would be liberating to open that goddamn door, maybe I could reach the shore. I would join the seagulls – they would look like thunderbirds, together we’d outshine the sun.

From my feet I can see the whole world underneath. It’s funny how small it is. The baby kid on the beach looks like I think I did, with a wicked smile on a sad face. I didn’t think I’d grow up, but now I’m a provider and the wheel keeps turning. In just a few short years, the gate will close behind my back, and I’ll become a thunderbird.

I’m so high in the sky with a smile on my face, you can try to catch on the race. But from down on the ground, you hear freaking weird sounds, but you can’t see my face. It’s not that I want to hide or that I’m incapable, I really wish I would be bold. But it’s a fight I can’t win, no matter how much I try: I’ve gotten old.

VARDOGER

I know where is my evil twin, she’s gliding right behind me, and she’s at my back right now. Don’t say you know! When I am drinking, she’s the one who’s drunk; when I am thinking, she gets ideas. If she gets nasty, the police comes for me. The fake one ain’t me: call me vardoger.

I know where my evil twin’s hiding, she’d follow me to the death. I heard talk of people saying she’s actually the nice one. When I am drinking, she’s the one who’s drunk; when I am thinking, she gets ideas. If she gets nasty, the police comes for me. The fake one ain’t me: call me vardoger.

What am I, I feel so light. Though I am tied, I’m so high. When will I find my sight? It’s not back, and I am so high. When I am drinking, she’s the one who’s drunk; when I am thinking, she gets ideas. If she gets nasty, the police comes for me. The fake one ain’t me: call me vardoger.

ON AND ON

Maybe I’ll find another path, for me to stray on, find me that other path, and I might stay.

So on and on and on, I make myself starve, if I do it right, then I might vanish in time, and on and on, the girls look brighter, the guys look anxious, and I stand right in the middle. Find me that other path, and I will stay.

Day in and and day out it’s clear nobody, no one thinks on and on and on, my nerves are peeling, I think that people will soon see through my skin. It’s self destruction, cause my mind is clear, and there’s satisfaction in that way to make me change into a monster. I find it stupid. I’ll soon be a wisp, a piece of nothing, and when I’m worn out, please don’t bury me. I’d like everyone to have a drink on me. Find me that other path, and I will stay.

With the liquid, I’d plant myself, turn into a squid, then grow back to myself. I’d say it’s a joke, didn’t mean to die. Like to see a choke, and I hope it’s bye-bye. With the liquid, I’d plant myself, turn into a squid, then grow back to myself. I’d say it’s a joke, didn’t mean to die. Like to see a choke, and I hope it’s bye-bye. Find me that other path, and I will stay.

MY FATHER’S LAIR

I climbed the rock to find the way into my father’s lair. I felt ashamed to take a peek into my father’s lair. Instant fear is not to blame, this can’t be real, I’m way too brave, and the walls are all grey cause there’s soot everywhere. And I should not be here, which is why I enter.

I cut a window off the wall to get into my father’s lair. I jumped inside and looked around into my father’s lair. Why so still, why so severe? This can’t be real, but I’m staying here, cause this place makes me feel safe, though it’s obvious it’s fake. I can’t believe I’m here. If I’m found I’ll get blamed.

GOING DOWN

Fear no more, I’m not going down, like that whore who smiles at the clown. Heal and go under the snow. Fear no more, I’m not letting you down, like that whore who did kill the clown. Leave the show before they know.

Fear no more, I’m not going down, like that whore who smiles at the clown. Heal and go under the snow. Fear no more, I’m not letting you down, like that whore who did kill the clown. Leave the show before they know.

It’s my lifeline that slightly sorry smile, better than gummy bears, stronger than cabin fever. It’s my lifeline that slightly sorry smile, better than gummy bears, stronger than cabin fever. It’s my lifeline that slightly sorry smile, better than gummy bears, stronger than cabin fever.

NO PAIN NO GAIN

I’m kind of excited and eager to please without fail. But that doesn’t mean I’ll drop on my knees, submit to shame, but no pain, no gain, no change, no claim. Complain, refrain, regain, you profane.

Do I care I’ve been told I’ll go to hell? But no pain, no gain, no change, no claim. Complain, refrain, regain, you profane.

I assure you I was planning to land on my feet, but on the way I tripped and fell on my ass. My inner self sees the humor of the situation, but I feel disconnected with his amusement. I feel… Like a rat in cage. No pain, no gain, no change, no claim. Complain, refrain, regain, you profane.

THAT THING I HATE

Gone.

And the truth came from a child, a strange boy with jet black eyes. He said not to mind the path – there’s nothing once you walk past, but more. In his hands he held a corkscrew, honestly, this is the truth. I could not believe my eyes, and suddenly he plopped a hole in the ground. “Watch and learn,” he whispered, “what’s in there is what I heard. Can you see that little crow? Well, that’s me, ’cause I can’t grow.”

Oh, the hole is deep and it shines with black, I think I can see myself. This is pretty neat, but I look so fat. I’m going right now on a diet! And I’m really old, like I’m a grandma’, are you really sure this is myself? Is this the future or some sort of fate? That thing, I hate.

Hey boy, this ain’t no fun, I don’t like the way you come, cause you sure are eloquent, but that’s not me wanting to repent. Hey, you, you’re just a child, you should watch how tall I am. I could kick you in the ass! If I wanted, you’d be gone.

“Don’t get scared,” he whispered, “you know, all this is absurd. It could be any Jane Doe, but I thought you’d like to know.”

Oh, the hole is bleak and it burns with marks, I don’t want to see myself. I feel like a freak; I look like a bat: you really need to keep quiet! I see this unfold, I think you’re a brat – are you really sure this is myself? And is it torture, or am I a bait? That thing, I hate! Quiet! I see this unfold, I think you’re a brat – are you really sure this is myself? And is it torture, or am I a bait? That thing, I hate!

I gave up after a while, I could see he couldn’t cry. Really, it didn’t stop me from trying to make the tears come out. I felt I was such a witch, but really, the kid was sick? Where’s his mom? I wanna talk about giving him a slap or more.

Oh, the hole is deep and it shines with black, I think I can see myself. This is pretty neat, but I look so fat. I’m going right now on a diet! And I’m really old, like I’m a grandma’, are you really sure this is myself? Is this the future or some sort of fate? That thing, I hate. Oh, the hole is bleak and it burns with marks, I don’t want to see myself. I feel like a freak; I look like a bat: you really need to keep quiet! I see this unfold, I think you’re a brat – are you really sure this is myself? And is it torture, or am I a bait? That thing, I hate!

LOKI (YOUR HEART AND SOUL)

You brought it on to yourself a sentence from the gods for your failure: we tied you to a rock. You deserved it, for murder, for the pranks, for the girls you have banged, we think you have to pay.

Oh, oh, oh, here is your heart and soul, she waits for you to call, and she fights the snake. Oh, oh, oh, she can’t always be there, someday you’ll have to share, when time takes its toll.

You brought it on to yourself, but your wife, she didn’t get the chance to live a normal life. If you had thought before you committed all those crimes that we forgave, there wouldn’t be a snake.

Oh, oh, oh, here is your heart and soul, she waits for you to call, and she fights the snake. Oh, oh, oh, she can’t always be there, someday you’ll have to share, when time takes its toll.

You brought it on to yourself and we laugh, ’cause we knew it would happen when you killed the fair one. We want revenge, and we will turn your sons, so they take their weapons and slay each other.

Oh, oh, oh, here is your heart and soul, she waits for you to call, and she fights the snake. Oh, oh, oh, she can’t always be there, someday you’ll have to share, when time takes its toll.

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