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floral, pt. 2

by gay angel

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1.
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?
2.
colors 00:21
3.
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...
4.
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".
5.
i'm cold 00:56
6.
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.
7.
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.
8.
9.
an orchid 01:01
10.
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!"
11.
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.
12.
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.
13.
14.
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.
15.
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.
16.
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.
17.
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?
18.
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.
19.
20.
a tulip 00:49
21.
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.
22.
sorry 01:16
23.
music is stupid
24.
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.
25.

about

DWL008

"floral, pt. 2" continues the sporadic nature defined in the first 25 songs by introducing more intricate orchestration, samples, and sprawling soundscapes that are just as vulnerable as they are powerful.

Each piece is accompanied by a description and photo. These entries can be found at

deaddrunkwithlove.com/dwl008

credits

released April 21, 2015

all tracks written, recorded, and produced by jake bellissimo, except for track 7, which was written by bill vuono and performed by him and donna heineman sometime in the 30s

on this volume gay angel is jake bellissimo (electric/acoustic guitar, electric bass, viola, vocals, celeste, zither, autoharp, handclaps, balalaika, drums, etc. etc. etc.)

and many many many other people who are LOVELY (other instrumentalists/arrangers):

ben escobar: vocals (track 1), piano (tracks 1/2)
caroline baker: french horn (track 1)
arjun baxter: electric/acoustic bass (tracks 3/4/15/22), handclaps (track 15)
sean lowery: drums (tracks 3/4/15)
mary fortino: clarinet (tracks 3/4)
cassandra sellers: viola (tracks 3/4)
chris xu: electric guitar (track 3)
tara fayazi: tuba (tracks 3/4), trumpet (tracks 3/4)
stephen morris: drum samples (track 6)
nick piato: trumpet (track 6), backup vocals (track 6)
wendy eisenberg: electric guitar (track 11)
sam grosby: backup vocals (track 11)
alex brickel: backup vocals (track 11)
matt kowalski: backup vocals (track 11)
yunyi ji: piano (track 11)
nicole minelli: vocals (track 13)
nicholas halbert: organ (track 19)
rosanna moore: harp (track 22)
tom torrisi: guitar (track 22)
jacob dassa: organ (track 25)

track 1 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

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

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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.
drunkwithloverecords@gmail.com
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