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floral

by gay angel

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  • CD Box Set
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    edition of /50

    Each order comes with:

    • Thank-you letter
    • All four parts of "floral"
    • A random assortment of sheet music, letters, photographs, books, and more.
    • Extra digital goodies (including outtakes, demos, etc.)

    Includes unlimited streaming of floral via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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1.
two times i’ll call him, two times i said...two times i thought that i’d never see him again. i’m so afraid that he won’t like me because one time he said that he was in love with me. so two times i’ll hang up, i’ll put down my phone...i’ll put down the vicodin that got me to pick up the phone. two times i’ll call him "my beary friend", two times i thought that i’d never see him again. i’ll go back to berlin--he’ll find me there. i’ll give up everything i have for him and my career. two times we’ll make up, two times we’ll make out, and two times i’ll wake up from that dream on a bed in southern vermont. two times i’ll wake up from those sweet dreams and i’ll drink vermouth, smoke a cigarette and say "sweet dreams". i wanna go back to vermont. i wanna go back to berlin. i wanna go back anywhere just so i can say i've gone back somewhere. take me to vermont. take me to berlin. take me back anywhere just so i can say i've gone somewhere. take me somewhere. oh.
2.
sing me a threnody just like penderecki. show me a new chord so i won't be so bored with the same premonitions i get from indecision. the old classical traditions put me back into positions of submission. i can't do that, so i'll go out and buy a new hat to remake myself once again or something definitive like that. all the words that i read they don't mean anything though i try and pretend that they're over my head and that i'll understand when i'm old and retired, even though i freak out when it all goes to minor. i've heard the best way to progress is to start walking forward, but what happens when the only direction is inward? oh no, i think i've got nothing to know...i'm tired of letting things go. keep me on this bus, i'm not ready to move. keep from the times i have to think that it's true--that i will always change no matter how much i think i'm intellectual when i am really not. so i'll see you when i'm 30 i'll see you when you see me. when i've made up my mind i want to skip to that time. i wanna know when that will be, oh, stagnant me. future me. oh no, i guess i've got nothing to know...i'm tired of letting things go. i'm tired of letting things go.
3.
c no evil 03:23
4.
5.
6.
silly river 01:41
different state, different storm. another day, another morn. thirty minutes out of bed, simple struggles the leaves never get. sometimes it's better to think about the days i can relish, embellish, and blink my eyes (a new disguise). if i blink my eyes, the world goes away, but if i leave them closed, the solitude never does stay...so i'll keep 'em this way. because no matter how much i sleep, the birds still sing, the river still rings, and there are still four seasons.
7.
this is a loud room. it's the same outside--flashing, screaming bright lights. too much to really hear, but all the world was here. this is a dark room. i was so distracted by the time it was midnight i forgot what everyone was talking about and why we needed to be here. i saw everyone started to kiss then i remembered what i missed. i forgot how to play the part, this has got to be a new start.
8.
november did treat me like a national disease. i ate your food and did not throw up. you're constantly playing catch up with your husband, hesitations. drive me to the railroad station, laugh and forget 'bout the movies, but clearly show what you're thinking with your movement, hesitation. play the game of recreation. crack a smile and pour me a glass, uneasiness is a place i've yet to pass. your husband kisses your friend kyle on the porch while you're inside making pizza for the group of friends you've seen while all naked as they're kissing your dear husband and you can't tell what he's thinking or if he has just been drinking. he probably has just been drinking cos november did treat you like you were a rotten tease, man, with your hatred of his makeup that just made you really choke up. as i saw you pour out his drink i knew this just wasn't my place. but we still had a movie left and i still hadn't really left, so i sat and that was that.
9.
i won't fall in love i think i'll just refuse to fall though my life has slowed to a painstakingly slow crawl carefully observing all the forsaken details like a train flying slowly off the rails so then a man can take a nail and nail it in a coffin before i stop coughin' the love out of my lungs. but the story of the train is not as important as the story of the brain. the story of the brain that fell off the rails, truly a hero, truly a hero unsung. i won't fall in love. i think i'll just refuse to fall.
10.
i'm writing you 'cos i'm old or at least that's what i've been told by moral compasses that always point west. i feel dismembered by the train, the bullet train that is my brain. "you are an old soul, you're an old soul". at least, that's what i'm told. what an outrageous thing that i'm trapped in this weak body! my very physical body has entrapped me. because when you're young you have time to commit all the crimes--the ones you never told him when the sheets were lined. because when you're young you will cry, and you will never know why. and even though that's kinda fucked up, you have to promise not to die or try to die. i've met many men with parkinson's disease, but only one gave me a shaky strip-tease and this one he told me, he told me not to "never, ever grow old". he told me not to "never, ever grow old or your skin would turn to mold." he either said mold or gold. i can't remember what he said my skin would look like when i turned old.
11.
12.
i've seen brown eyes at the break of day and green eyes when i've gone away. and hazel eyes might as well be clear, but as i wake up and see your black eyes i slouch in my seat and watch the smoke sigh 'cos the only eyes i need aren't here. they've seen love in others. i think i need to go near someone who can talk to me so i can hear about those blue eyes that wield spears. in my head they'll never disappear.
13.
14.
the earth is not my home, but when time gets slower i start to think about letting go of friendships and objects. i need to explain this. and how cheap meals and cheap connections do anything but save us. the earth is not my home. it's filled with different canyons and different slopes, but never with love. grasslands and deserts are all deserted to me. the ends of the oceans are just too deep for me to take a nap in, so instead i'll just get breakfast or something easier. the earth is not my home. i'm always livin' it, but not lovin' it. i'm always in transit but never in love. i'm always in transit but i'm never in love. i'm always in transit but never in love. the earth is not my home, i'm always in transit but never in love.
15.
jens, your songs don't touch me anymore. they make me sadder than i was before. and i guess i could say that i grow cold every minute i grow old, but what's the use? it'll never come out in a truce...i've got nothing left to prove, my mouth is sore, and the reality of reality is that i've probably seen it in somebody else's score. jim, your hands don't touch me anymore. i'd like to think you thought it was a chore, even though you recommend that i have kids and then you said "you could write a bible with all that you sing instead of throwing your life away on a string". my mouth is sore, and the reality of reality is that i've probably seen it in somebody else's score. so now nobody really touches me anymore. i'm no samuel adler, but i think that i know the score. so now nobody's words touch me anymore. i'm no samuel adler, but i think that i know the score. i'd like to say i've seen all the scores (although i'm pretty sure that's been written before). i'm no samuel adler, but i think that i know the score. i'm no samuel adler, but i think that i know the score.
16.
17.
someday when i go, i'll find you and let you know there's a hole in my brain and it doesn't have room for two. if you forgive me then i'll take you instead of me when you walk me to our house while i'm not sober 'cos the more i say "i love you" the more i hope it is true so i keep ingraining in my skin 'til the burns seep through. so come with me and learn to breathe as i go head first indefinitely. feel the words i speak as i sing a fanciful tune. i'm not sure how easily i fall in love platonically, but i hope you can forgive me for not knowing whether you exist. maybe not rejoiceful, but never through physical form. i can't tell if you really keep me warm. so come with me and learn to breathe as i spin uncontrollably and learn to deal with the dance of life on my own, alone.
18.
19.
floral 04:18
and then i saw a photograph of someone not édith piaf and then my world began to swirl and spin. a person oh so intricate, their eyes two separate syndicates (aside from a poor conversation, oh...) but only if i could feel your skin on mine, i would. instead, i'm eating poutine and taking three shots at eleven in the morning. dear, here's a rose, don't you let it implode. it's just a rose, it'll cause you pain. from thorns you'll be built up and never really the same from polluting your body, the drugs that you take. i remember when i said "if you want to feel good, never hesitate". if only i knew the pleasures always get away from you. oh, because i saw a photograph of someone not édith piaf and certainly not kevin spacey too. no, someone much more real than that, a single person without a name who took my eyes and made them never the same. i walk the halls, i walk the streets, i try to focus on my feet to make sure that i don't slip and fall. the ice isn't there but it feels so cold, so out of caution i'll walk slowly and prepare for the worst. the city says it's in repose, but i'd argue it's about to explode. i'm sure édith piaf wouldn't allow this, she'd find some way to make it bliss through vintage photographs and what we calm our minds with! i'm sure she'll come save the day someday, it is just a matter of how long i'll really wait. dear, yes, that's a rose, why did you let it explode? it was just a rose, it caused you pain. from thorns you've been built up and you've never been the same.
20.
21.
22.
and to the man in the club i almost danced with, he says "you've got the wrong guy, you see, i have three kids. one, the oldest, goes to college for law, and the youngest is ten years your senior." so, "dad", what were you doing in that bear bar rolling with some 19-year-old kid? you said you were fifty-six years old so i'll count to fifty-six and then leave you in the bathroom stall throwing up, not caring at all. but that's entertainment, i know. that's entertainment, i know. that's entertainment, it shows. that's entertainment, i'll grow.
23.
24.
“oh my god.” you said that once, but i’m hearing it again, this time from a different face. "oh my god" again. almost every person i’ve met is made up of pieces of people i knew. prosthetic memories sewed on in place of limbs. i see it once and it all comes back. i see my lovers, i see my friends, i see them all come back again. but i know it won’t be that long before they fade away, tucked within, and reappear on another rotation. they’re never their own entity until they disappear...until then i always compare them to the past. that will never last. what do they see when they look at me? who do they see when they look at me? who do they see? “oh my god.” you said that once, but i’m hearing it again. this time i’m in a different place. oh my god. i am waiting for the snow to fall. i'm waiting for the snow to fall. i want it to be daylight savings so i can set my clock an hour ahead and move on.
25.
26.
b strong 03:48
b strong, you're wrong, motion is gone. this bus is dark. get up, leave your mark. more joy, bottom line, chapped lips, and "goodbye". i wake up and find you are not there. i run to the door and see i locked you out of your apartment. i forgot to leave the third lock unlocked (i'm easy to read). more joy, bottom line, chapped lips, and "goodbye". more joy, bottom line, chapped lips, and "goodbye". train from riverside, chapped lips, and "goodbye". goodbye, goodbye, come back on inside. you're waiting until you finally become God. i wonder, isn't that a little bit odd?
27.
colors 00:21
28.
there's a place that i reserve in my head for those moments when i realize i'll never be as beautiful as i want to become and that it's always easiest said when numb...to see all the things i'll never be against all of the things i said i'd never try. a man wakes up passed out on a curb and an older woman yells at him and tells him not to cry. it doesn't matter if you treat it, if it's well! you call me "honey," i'll call you "hell"...and if that's just not the way that things really are, i wish i could still drive a fucking car without being afraid of what i see on the road (and if it's really there? well, nobody knows). "i want to be better" seems to be some sort of decree, at least in this city or under this birch tree with the growing leaves. no, i won't conceive how my mind could fall for nothing at all. and the cars could move--a woman shoots a look at a man who is sitting reading a book. it doesn't matter if you treat it, if it's well! you call me "honey," i'll call you "hell"...and if that's just not the way that things really are, i wish i could still drive a fucking car without being afraid of what i see on the road (and if it's really there? well, nobody knows). "i want to be better" seems to be some sort of decree, at least in this city or under this birch tree with the growing leaves. no, i won't conceive how my mind could fall for nothing at all. and the cars could move--a woman shoots a look at a man who is sitting reading a book. and my eyes then shift to the green forklift to erase the feeling that's spreading from my chest to my heart to my head to my feet and to my breast and all the rest the rest the rest the rest the rest i need some fucking rest. ...i need some fucking rest. oh...
29.
on a screen 00:59
in a dream, on a screen, you take me, you take me. you tap your feet over there. i think you're really fred astaire and i'm ginger, but that's just crazy. i look at the tv, at the movie--a really old movie from a long time ago before i was dead or my parent's head...or in my grandparent's head (that was a long time ago and now i'm drunk on a couch in our living room). i can't get myself to move. you ask me what i'm doing tomorrow. i look away and say "i don't know". you ask me what i'm doing tomorrow. you ask me what i'm doing for the rest of my life, and "i don't know", i don't know, "i don't know".
30.
i'm cold 00:56
31.
i made peace 03:08
i made peace with my lack of sleep, but i still won't say, no i still won't pay for the amount of pills i've yet to take. a midnight drive is all that's at stake. and now i'm looking at the mayor, i see him say a silent prayer that nobody will see him with this girl who is clearly not his wife--or, at least, not in this life. i made a mistake, i downloaded the first season of the golden girls instead of the gilmore girls. i got the wrong girls, and it's not a big deal, it's just the little mistakes are the ones that annoy me. and now i'm wondering why i made that mistake...don't tell my parents. and now i think she made a similar mistake. she decided to love and leave when you're only supposed to do one. she's now a ghost, it's now a ghost, but she's chasing the wrong ghost. she decided to love and leave when you're only supposed to do one. she's now a ghost, it's now a ghost, but she's chasing the wrong ghost. oh, but she's chasing the wrong ghost.
32.
i have a flower for you to wear. it is a flower so sweet and fair. never a garden it knew. never the sun, never the dew. it never looked at the blue sky, this flower i give you cannot die. you may throw it away, you may tear it apart. 'tis not a flower, 'tis my heart.
33.
34.
an orchid 01:01
35.
hong kong 01:47
my mom (a few years ago) told us we'd move to hong kong, but i couldn't tell if she was telling the truth or was just wrong. she wanted to start anew, but she really wanted to stay in her place. try new things, but never give into change. i don't think i understood the way she tried to race. i told a friend for the third time that i would try to kill myself. i told the rest of my close friends that i was simply in love. i don't know what got into me, but i think it has to do with where i'm sitting down as opposed to standing up i need to settle arthritic pains and stand up and say "mom, i understand when you said we'd move to hong kong. even though i didn't want to, i know now that i was wrong." why is it that i can only know if something's wrong when it's said and done? like why my stomach is bubbling and i know i drank too much? he said "hug me now before my face turns all blue. i'll find my own hong kong this summer, but where it is, i'll surely tell you!"
36.
all our plans have surely died, even though we've yet to go outside. your sky never darkens, it never disappears--you throw up all over the atmosphere. where do the old songs go when we soon leave this place? into our memories that will soon get replaced? where do the old songs go when we soon clear our beds? into our bloody wounds, with the rest left unsaid? out of our hair and into the busy streets, take off our shoes and learn to use our feet. sounds are inanimate like caio's written prose. alessandro doesn't think that, but i suppose that rose-colored lenses blind and kill your sight, so tell me to come back and i'll get off this flight. where do the old songs go when i soon leave your land? it doesn't seem to mat--wait, show me more rembrandt. this is a bad farewell, i hope you're still my friend. i will come back and say "hi" if i'm given the chance.
37.
i won't take ecstacy until i'm happier with being happier and then suddenly feeling sad and then realizing that my night was bad. oh, i could have danced all night and still have begged for more but now i'm naked in an alley and my heart is feeling sore. i guess my night was really a bore. oh, to have variety it is just necessary to fall down and look from above and realize sadness is only fun when you are in love. so, i won't take ecstacy until i'm happier with being happier and then suddenly feeling sad. i wish i had someone to make the bad parts of my life not seem so bad.
38.
39.
autumn leaves are falling, a man runs through then starts crawling. if i had a flower, if it could start to think, i don't think it'd be able to stand still at its own will as i cut it off to give to you. no, the flowers would surely run away if they weren't tied to their stems. at least i know if i were a flower i'd run before you catch me. before you catch me and cut me up and uproot me. pick me up and throw me over. i know you used to talk about the cliffs of dover. i remember when i thought you had to play an instrument to sound good or be a substantial thing when all you really needed to do was sing. pick me up and throw me down into the bouquet of all the men you know you don't approve of. i just hope you can find a way to put that to use.
40.
let me tell you 'bout a man, j. robert oppenheimer, who wanted to show that he was smart and not old-teimer. he made the atomic bomb but then he didn't know what he had done so wrong--was it the way he was raised to not hurt people or the way he was taught to pray in steeples? he thought he knew what he wanted in life, but accidentally took a hundred thousand lives with the advancement of science and human progress. it was all so grand, he couldn't sleep at night and so he laid awake and counted dots on the ceiling--but counting polka-dots could never hide his feelings so...j. robert oppenheimer. i know that we all have to make mistakes, but i think your mistake really takes the cake. but i'll be sure to eat this cake with you when we're both in hell trying to hide from the flames. and i'll hold an ice cube upon your face just to remind you of how cold your heart really is, j. robert oppenheimer. i'll see you in hell if that really is a bad thing.
41.
ernest 01:37
oh, ernest, you're earnest even when things start to go wrong. oh, ernest, it's easy to assume the worst and just play along. oh, ernest, you're earnest, even though you've never met me. and you offer me a cigarette and make it seem like it was rolled just for me. i don't have an attraction to you just like i don't have a taste for wine, until you kissed me and the sweet taste sent shivers down my spine. not because i felt like things were finally going to go right, but instead i was scared and just wanted a place to stay the night. oh, ernest, you're earnest. you know you can always have me. as long as you cover the bill to our dinner, then i am yours to please. sometimes i think about how i don't have enough respect for my body, but maybe i have it all wrong--maybe my body doesn't have respect for me. and i don't think that's a bad thing, because with all the money i save on dinner and records, maybe i'll buy some lucky guy a wedding ring.
42.
how do you study for an AIDS test? how do you know which books to read? or do you stay up late and procrastinate and masturbate and hope for the best and hope it turns out swell?...because in the end you're a faggot. you're simply off-beat. don't try to mask it, don't try to hide it or you'll face defeat. and i often stay up late nervous about thinking positive thoughts and if they came true, what would i really do?
43.
i would have written you a waltz, but you told me that you never schmaltz and you lied and said you had no wife but you'd be looking for me in the next life. it was just like the movie "smoke" with the christmas snow still outside. we both did not believe what we said, it was obvious we both had lied. but that was fun, just for kicks--you can really teach an old dog new tricks. i walk into the streets feeling a strong desire. if only i had a lyre, if only i weren't a liar, i would never tire, i would never tire, i would set my heart on fire. oh, it was just like the movie "smoke". you kissed me and would not look me in the eye. and we both wanted to believe this was a mistake and you were really blind. so, pretend my beard was pubic hair and i'll pretend your skin was leather and we'll both get through this terrible storm (we'll both destroy our moral compass together). and i'll call my friends and laugh about it as a way to hide it all or at least try, but what i never told my friends is when i started to leave i could have sworn i saw you cry. i could have also made that part up, but what matters is how it feels to experience the first moment when i realized nothing was real.
44.
45.
a tulip 00:49
46.
in flight 02:30
in flight, my wings crash down. wretched things. compare the river to the sky, name giver. let this skin be adored, saintly sinner, keep me bored. last night i fell into a hole, i thought it was an episode of "the twilight zone". last night i fell into a hole i thought it was an episode of "the twilight zone". i can't be scared i can't take care. i can't take care it's one big scare. does your skin hurt you? does your skin hurt you too? in flight, my wings hang low with everything.
47.
sorry 01:16
48.
music is stupid
49.
drunken courtyard, stain glass window. i know how grass will grow. i must move on with my light head, weak knees. must remember what it means to be free. i think i'm ready.
50.
51.
things to do 01:57
52.
love 03:11
i look at two photographs of memories i feel like i've seen before. like i've made some sort of deal with some kind of higher power above the things i've seen...so, why is my breath short, and what does it all mean? to see these two photographs and feel like i'm there, though they're not of me or anyone who cares. i wanna age thirty years older, disappear into this photograph. ask you to take a chance--so, dear, shall we dance? you can take my head, but please give me some sort of theme to put on my stone when i am dead...or so it really seems that idealized versions of the future that don't involve the middle part of life i'm only living when i'd prefer to learn at least a little about the poor conversation i so blatantly confuse with secure indiscretion i don't know how to use. you can take my head and roll it down the stream. i'll stop dreaming when i'm dead or so it really seems.
53.
54.
the library 03:03
i went to the library today and i found out that i would have to pay for the amount of times i didn't return this one book. the manager gave me a distant look and told me i should not do that again. i said "i'm sorry" and proceeded to grab my things. i forget what he said next, but it kinda stung. he said "you should have gotten help instead of walking away". i agree, he's right, but it's much easier said than done. because i went to the library today and i realized i couldn't run away from the things i thought i didn't have to see. if i close my eyes, the world is easier to deal with.
55.
56.
SPECIAL 03:20
beautiful brown eyes. you don't even try. early morning sky. you make me feel high. you make me feel high. this must be what heaven feels like. or purgatory too, 'cos i will never talk to you. and you will never talk to me. i'll never be yours to please. it's not childish, but true, i think i love loving you. i don't care if it's true, i think i love loving you. i don't care if it's really true, i think i love loving you.
57.
april 30th. aaron said he wants to think a lot, i told him i think i'd rather not. may 3rd. i felt tense and empty all afternoon. i guess i should try to stop smoking soon. august 2nd. watching the stars while laying on a field of grass, worried you would never touch my ass. none of these memories are from the same time. they don't make much sense but they kinda rhyme. it's easier to pinpoint random memories and think i did something that day. it's much easier that way, to talk about the things i did on a day instead of the things i missed...and, in a way, i think that's okay. that's okay. i think that's okay. present day. when the sky clears and the stars align, i want you to know i really like the color of that red "exit" sign.
58.
listen 02:05
mother, why did you lie and never tell me that some things don't get better with time or substance displacement through melancholic places? i trip and i fall on the cool pavement, but it's nothing that's new to me--i'm as happy as i can be. listen, i know i forgot you long ago but i'm remembering so i can ask you how hollow hearts can still beat without a pulsation and how the stars now seem closer than the pavement (a lonely but insecure sensation). i scream and i make my skin tear, but i don't think i really care.
59.
a daisy 00:22
60.
jerry 01:06
jerry, it rhymes with terry and he is scary in the library. jerry, he's a cutie and he works in the library. jerry, do you know all my secrets? do they show on my sleeve or in my book? tell me the call number of your heart. tell me the call number of your heart and maybe i'll know on which floor to start. jerry, you're such a cutie, but you'll never touch me. jerry in the library, he's such a cutie, but he doesn't know it. i wanna tell him.
61.
62.
i'm sitting here and i am signing a lease, but there are details, like when the main frame of the house breaks down. and i can't complain when the roof falls off or the floor caves in. no, i won't have a chance to start again. it'll be in a constant state of renovation. but that's not an unknown factor to me...no, i know. the landlord tells me that "i know it is pretty shoddy, but it's your birthday and it's kind of your body. i know the place is pretty shoddy, but it's really cheap and it's kind of your body." i'm sitting here and i am signing a lease for the next year 'cos it's my birthday and the time is here. i'll walk on home with my contract but i have to be careful because if i break anything, i won't be a good tenant.
63.
64.
65.
bed 01:20
nights like these i only look at the ceiling, but that can't my stop my head from reeling. please don't feast your eyes, i feel like an antichrist. beautiful body, yours makes me angry, but i can't tell if my arm is asleep. where i should have a soul, it feels like there is a hole. know when i wake up i'll feel slightly different. my feelings they change from minute-to-minute. i wanna feel like i'm in vermont, but i know i should probably not. nights like these i only look at the ceiling, but that can't stop my head from reeling. please don't feast your eyes, i feel like an antichrist.
66.
67.
68.
a shell. 03:48
69.
blue, blue sky, and golden tree; gentle breeze, leaves swirling free. bright, bright sun and birdlings' cries; glory-red patterns dance on my closèd eyes.
70.
who's that man walking down the stairs and what did i do? and how is it my lovers are old enough to be my fathers? am i just desperate too? i know i wasn't drinking, it is my songs that are drunk, can't you see that my actions speak louder than my words because my words speak uncontrollably? i know the trees are blushing and it won't be so strange when the performers go home and change into something clearly appropriate. i hope people will stop laughing at my music and titles when i get old and grow gray hair. i think that anything can sound like a joke when i'm young and you're standing all the way over there. the homeless woman passes by every morning and says that i'm a disgrace to the name of art music, trying to put out my cigarette, but i tell her "no." and i tell her to please leave me alone. i say "i know what i'm doing". and no matter what i say she just yells and takes off. and, as i take a deep sigh, i don't know who is right or wrong or if i'll ever be sure. who's that man looking in the mirror and who did he just kiss? is the decades of age difference plentiful, or should he be worried just yet?
71.
72.
73.
74.
now that you're tied, let me do my job.
75.
joy! 02:09
hey, have you seen joy? i once saw it in my boy, but now he lives two blocks away. that's all i really have to say. there's not a point left to be made. i doubt he would have ever proposed, but now i'm fully composed. i'm still having trouble finding joy. it once was in the eyes of my boy, and i can't seem to find anyone else who knows it too. it's the trade-off between being blue and being you. although, i feel like the ultimate disposition is letting your emotions combat tradition. hey, have you seen joy? i thought it once was a ploy, and it turns out that i was right. the imminent ecstasy sent shivers like a symphony. and feelings are good, but not when i'm not feeling good. but my bed is still my bed even though you're not in it, and my head is still my head even though you're seeing other people instead.
76.
welcome to heaven, i hope you'll be fine. you have everything that you've wanted. the rumors were right--they all wanted you to die, so be glad that you beat them to it. so be glad you got what you wanted. you always get what you want. you're a saint, but only in your head. welcome to heaven.
77.
no better 02:24
i paint myself each morning with water to wash off the oils of the night. i pass by a park and i start to feel uneasy as i see the preacher paint the crowd with light. what do you paint yourself with, dear? and what kind of brushes do you use? a distant dream in a distant orchard shows me that you don't have to choose. i'm walking to the train from the subway still feelin' kind of dead. i think after all that's happened i should know better, but i'm not better yet. i could say i'm a better man, but i know i'm no better, man, and i know no better man and i know no better man...but now i know better, man.
78.
it's so hard to move. i can't be sure, but i have to choose so i find the sky, look up to the place where bluebirds fly. hiking up a mountain feeling short but standing tall. feeling grim. boulders falling out of place i cannot help myself. walking up and falling over, air kisses my neck. the radio says "make the world go away", but i don't know. those old songs i listen to don't help me grow--i know. hiking up a mountain feeling short but standing tall. feeling grim, holding my friend, not seeing at all. it's so hard to move. i can't be sure, but i have to choose so i find the sky, look up to the place where bluebirds fly.
79.
80.
i'll be seeing you so soon, i wish i could jump over the moon! make an earlier plane, that's what i've gotta do. but i must be well aware this is how i felt one year ago.
81.
your light 02:35
82.
man overboard. man falling down. from his family, thrown away. he is confused. he lost it all, and so he starts to fall into my arms. i catch him with my arms, but i don't want to hold on--i don't think i care about him. and so i let him fall. it's kind of sad, but it is not my sadness.
83.
a rose 01:32
here's a rose, it's wrapped around my throat. the thorns cut in and blood flies out my window. here's a rose so now i know when you are going to go on a bus on a train, "meet me in st. louis" again and again. i could never tell the truth, but you're into history and you are living proof. when you asked me what my favorite moment in history was, i was afraid to tell you i thought it was going to be that exact moment. here's a rose, it's wrapped around my throat. now i know when you will go. i don't know where i was or where i am or where i'm going, but, dear, here's a rose.
84.
stems 01:33
85.
i'll see you in my dreams, i'll see you in my dreams. even if you're on a train or a plane, i'll buy a ticket to follow you in my dream. i overheard that you love to suck cock and that you love to love and never talk. overheard that you love to suck cock and that you love to love and never talk. i'll see you in my dreams, i'll see you in my dreams. even if you're on a plane or a train, i'll buy a ticket to follow you in my dreams. i'll see you in my dreams.
86.
a dahlia 02:40
87.
i am here to help him, but he keeps forgetting to take me every day. it should not happen this way. the people who help him are angels, they give him me for free, but he always forgets to take me. why does it have to be me? put me in somebody else's mouth if not his own. i am here to help him! in the past i have hurt him, but now i'm here to help him! i am here to help him!
88.
hairy chest 01:28
89.
dream music 02:49
90.
a dark alley 01:33
91.
(white heat) 00:35
i don't know what it's like to be dead, so i'll keep all these lies in my heads. fantasies are things better left unsaid.
92.
HALF FULL 01:47
is it wrong to still say things that i don't mean? even though i'm older, i still don't know what i mean. and i could go outside, but the only one i can't hide from is myself. i can't drown it with anything, so i must go away. i can drive again, i'm feeling kinda glad 'cos last year i almost got arrested. it's a childish fear, but it's stolen many years from me. my mind almost split across the sky, i still don't know why. i'm afraid that when i'm older i'll be locked up before i even am able to fill half the cup. i'm afraid that when i'm older i'll be locked up before i am able to fill half the cup.
93.
94.
my dog makes me feel bad because he's always sad. i want to hug him, but i know it's too late--he knows my name. and my grandmother is so nice to me. that's the way that i want things to be. it's getting harder to accept that one day she'll have to leave her body. my hands are feeling cold and it's starting to get pretty old that i can't get used to things changing even when they're falling and now my head is spinning, but i think i like the way that feels.
95.
oh, i'm not gonna take a risk tonight. no, i'm not gonna take a risk tonight. other nights i was fine with just closing my eyes and taking whatever was in front of me, but tonight--oh, tonight...i wanna just close my eyes and stay the night. how many nights of waking up clueless and useless will it take for me to stay inside? i never used to go outside, but now i'm dreaming for a life only inside. so, i'm not gonna take a risk tonight. no, i'm not gonna take a risk tonight. other nights i was fine with just closing my eyes and taking whatever was in front of me, but tonight i just wanna close my eyes and get in bed and stay the night.
96.
when i was younger my brother told me that there was an offspring song that was about "the lord of the flies" and i did not believe him even though he showed me all of the parallels he thought he wanted to see. just like the teachers i chose to ignore and write down on a paper so i would get a good score. because the world is open but its heart is black and people will get out whatever they don't want to take back. just like when caio gave me one last poem he wrote for me, and i said "thank you so much, it means a lot". and then he said "i think you missed the point. try to read it again and you'll be better off then." oh.
97.
sick piece 08:45
98.
i won't fall in love i think i'll just refuse to fall though my life has slowed to a painstakingly slow crawl carefully observing all the forsaken details like a train flying slowly off the rails so then a man can take a nail and nail it in a coffin before i stop coughin' the love out of my lungs. but the story of the train is not as important as the story of the brain. the story of the brain that fell off the rails, truly a hero, truly a hero unsung. i won't fall in love. i think i'll just refuse to fall.
99.
heading home 01:42
he says "i know that i got to go, it's been fifteen years and it's starting to show...but, i can't leave town when everything is going well. it's hard to leave a job when you're welcome there and it's hard to leave a house while there's still fresh air and a welcome mat to greet you home every day. i like to think that i'm going away and that i'm preparing to leave every day because each day i buy some seeds for my garden and i buy some paint cartons for my house but i never use them, but don't have doubts that one day i'll use them when i move away." he says "i know that i got to go, it's been fifteen years and it's starting to show, so i'm building up my perfect home in my head. i don't know where that home will be, home is something that comes naturally. is it where you die or where you're born or where your heart is ripped and torn?"
100.
gay angel 02:28
translucent dreams where nothing does go wrong and then i stuff those feelings in another fucking song. but, still i don't know what it is i'm really feeling. the floor is concrete and i think my head is reeling. i'm waiting for another try at saying that i'll go so maybe one day you'll pretend you really know the difference between your home and a mortuary. the comparison isn't flattering, it's scary. and so i'll know that days are often short and it's my job to make them feel as long as i can trust myself with (in order to be strong). let's see if i can really last that long. i'll grow a pair of gorgeous wings and clean my lungs so i can start to sing. you'll see me up there someday and after all we've been through i don't think i can ever say "i'm glad we had this talk, so let's go back to our lives and learn to walk."

about

DWL002

“i will always change no matter how much i think i’m intellectual when i am really not”

this is an album of 100 flowers put together over the course of the last year.

the entire album is posted track-by-track (with photographs and descriptions) at deaddrunkwithlove.com

thank you for your ears and time, i know you probably have other things to do.

deaddrunkwithlove.com/dwl002

credits

released July 2, 2015

all tracks written, recorded, and produced by jake bellissimo, except for tracks 10/24, tracks 32/66, and track 51, which were recorded by borja rojo, written/performed/recorded by bill vuono (and friends), and recorded by richard wattie (respectively)

main artwork by jake bellissimo, artwork for individual pts by yunyi ji

gay angel is jake bellissimo (a lotta things)

i am very thankful for the many people who took part in making this a reality.

sara defranco: vocals (track 1)
stephen morris: drums (track 2), drum samples (track 31)
billy petito: electric guitar (track 2)
nick piato: trumpet (tracks 2/7/31), backup vocals (track 31)
arjun baxter: electric/acoustic bass (tracks 2/8/9/24/28/29/40/47/52/54/58), handclaps (tracks 15/40)
justin persichetti: vibraphone (track 2), sleigh bells (track 22)
sumner truax: saxophone (track 3)
samantha turley: harp (tracks 3/56)
nikki joshi: toy piano (track 3), vibraphone (track 24)
jack barham: electric guitar (tracks 5/13/18/20/21), vocals (track 85), breaking things (track 95)
sam park: vocals (track 6), backup vocals (track 15)
kevin zetina: marimba (track 7)
william bellissimo: saxophone (track 7)
dustin seo: cello (track 7)
ben escobar: synthesizer (track 9), vocals (track 26), piano (tracks 26/27/54), pans (track 60)
borja rojo: trombone (track 10)
sam edwards: viola (tracks 10/11)
sean lowery: percussion (tracks 12/28/29/40/52/54/57/58), backing vocals (track 57)
rose hegele: vocals (tracks 12/15)
cassie sellers: viola (tracks 15/19/24/28/29/52/56/58)
andrew links: electric guitar (track 15), rhodes (track 22), vocals (track 22), synth (tracks 52/54/56/58)
eleanor lee: cello (track 16)
petros karapetyan: violin (track 16)
evan pengra sult: flute (traks 17/19)
cassidy thompson: vocals (track 19)
wendy eisenberg: noise/pedals (track 23), electric guitar (track 36)
ben fang: guitar (track 24)
evan henry: conductor (track 24)
caroline baker: french horn (tracks 26/54/56/58)
mary fortino: clarinet (tracks 28/29/52/54/56)
chris xu: electric guitar (tracks 28/54)
tara fayazi: tuba (tracks 28/29/52/56/58), trumpet (tracks 28/29)
sam grosby: backup vocals (track 36), vocals (track 60), pans (track 60)
alex brickel: backup vocals (track 36)
matt kowalski: backup vocals (track 36)
yunyi ji: piano (track 36)
nicole minelli: vocals (track 38)
nicholas halbert: organ (track 44)
rosanna moore: harp (track 47)
tom torrisi: guitar (track 47)
jacob dassa: organ (track 50)
garret wellenstein: conductor (track 51)
eastman school symphony orchestra: uhhhhhhhhhhh (track 51)
rennie cotner: french horn (tracks 52/56/58), backing vocals (track 65), ukulele (track 65)
brandon choi: trumpet (track 52)
keenan montieth: vocals (tracks 52/67)
katelyn croft: harp (tracks 53/76)
chaithu natarajan: alto saxophone (tracks 55/62)
alisa kolot: clarinet (tracks 55/62)
julia egan: guitar (track 57), backing vocals (track 57)
max kanowitz: bongos (track 52), backing vocals (track 57)
sean mulligan: viola (track 61), guitar (track 61)
aaron bigeleisen: vocals (track 65)
katie buonanno: vocals (tracks 76/92)
noah rosenberg: cello (tracks 84/100)

xoxoxoxooxoxoxo

the sample on track 15 is an excerpt from the film “alt-berlin”
the sample from track 19 is from an édith piaf recording of "polichinelle"
the lyrics for track 24 were inspired by a comic by lauren (“iguanamouth”), iguanamouth.tumblr.com
track 26 includes a sample of a recording of the eastman school symphony orchestra in rehearsal for copland’s “appalachian spring”
the various samples of flower advertisements are the property of 1-800-FLOWERS, not mine
track 63 was constructed from recordings made of jon lin chua’s “white moon” and zoe yucong wang’s “loveless”
the text for track 19 was written by addie rose brown

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♥ Drunk With Love Records ♥ hell, Michigan

Drunk With Love Records was a collective that existed from 2014-2021. It was a place for our music to exist, but now we have other places to go. Thanks for all who listened to us.
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