DESCRIPTION:
Brad Hamers - Flat Yoke LIVE in Paris, France - May 2011
video by Big Pauper
http://bradhamers.bandcamp.com/
lyrics:
Flat Yoke

i can't light fires off the songs i swallow before each meal each day won't ever drown in a puddle of love or go hungry screaming for mothers and things inherently allusive to wombs and open wounds will (your dead) god rob his own egg of trick questions do you steal other robot's (internet connection) battery money see a tree still burning 30,000 (light) years after its been cut-down to install a 2nd moon a zero gravity shopping mall my granddaughter wears its advertising logo tattooed to her forehead who kills science hangs queens nails evolution to crosses this brainstorm shall be sacrificed in the middle name of dependency and psychiatrists overthinking thinking recipes and sheep counting
for animals don't do math the same way a wind really doesn't blow keep trying to sing down brick houses and put out water i lost my bullets in a president's head got molested by capitalism my manifest mutations all breathing outward in some imbalance of unison the symmetry in a car accident or the perfect sense in laughing we hung ourselves like paintings all night throughout parking garages and bar bathrooms

i can't throw neurosis off achievement peaks steeping in a cup of feverish anticipation like a mountain in a warehouse with my burnt tongue blowing smoke in people's faces music without corners dries up in air like cigarette smoke won't appease my leash out of breath and longing for my moving parts my decision appliance and formulated dream film i can't watch tv off sturdy ballads and no unconcerned push cart not even off character charity or standing in line emasculated i can't light wars off the books i feed wandering and repeating paying to be unbound what the ball of holes is trying to say holding a topic like a hat in a drawer looking for a purpose average encounter with her awareness sanded down says something about strange weather i can't develop without dieing won't stamp shirts or carve legal trees for a 14 bedroom void of regret or go starving breathing my unexpectations

but i too carry my medicine


i'll take my dead tongue's specific strut to strange and new places with its tailpipe trailing its 7thousand definitions and need for exact numbers let the spectators sweep the smog off the streets and into files you speak differently to everyone
well you don't play a trumpet like a drum from work to murky sofas sleep and back again if i'm not intoxicated i'm delusional or deceived work grain indicating an entire forest antiidle bubble bursts only half through its life span moral wing we're the wind

(the strong scent of soap can be as laxative and rousing as spilling a poem over the long rug of a piano thick from wall to wall
with me tangled in it suspended in a chair like a spider web facing the corner of the room
i'm coming up with too many words for this cave)

(as of lately my confidence and clarity (self-image) have been much like my beard) --
(imagine me mirrorless)


i can't push fire on already lit rooms drying up in a puddle of love won't dream in a gold bed ever die out in the sun i'll take my playing song to its end





i can't sell fire to already lit rooms scratching in a dried up puddle of love won't dream in a white mansion ever die out in a bucket full of gasses i'll take my affection to silent fields to sing along with me






i can't push flames on complacency convinced of love proper without a puddle or its own reflection won't aspire mansions in mansions ever die in atoms i'll take my dancing to the beat


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poem written - 2005
drums & keyboard parts written - 2006
vocals recorded -- 2007

from Post No Dreams, track released 30 November 2010
written, played, recorded & produced by Brad Hamers
lyrics & vocals by Brad Hamers
moog bassline & nasty solo by Big Pauper
mixed & mastered by Big Pauper
Token Recluse Recordings 2010