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(Unmastered) lofi analogue piano ballads recorded while traveling 7000 miles in an off grid diesel box truck affectionately dubbed BleakHausTruk.


released March 18, 2018


all rights reserved




1 autonomous rogue off grid BYE
Bleakhaus HELLO BleakhaustrUK records performs produces releases DELETIST das blut & zorn orkestra CTRL V 3RR0R
recently released semianimated film & soundtrack CHILDREN OF THE BLACK SUN: a graphic manifesto by BITTER PIE
received doctorate degree Henry Darger Institute for Success in the Dead Arts. CURRENTLY EMBRACES HOPELESSNESS on tour for the next rest of life
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Track Name: simpering palace
There go I into the simpering palace
where junkies don't whine
cops are mindful and refined
And I piss not into a tin can
but a studded silver chalice.

Jealous she says
of my life without bread
but she's blind
to the catastrophic trials that led
to this tiny castle
this moth-bitten half-assed
twin slat of a bed.

A mattress stuffed flat
with hard poking spines of the past
dirty dreams and cleaner trash
where magical flying monkey men
have long since fled.

Up on the downs now
they lie settled
up on the downs
In the weedy nettles
happy and ashen
dare I suspect.

Yet the yellow world
goes on plundering
Fucking it's own sad sons from behind
yalling attention to a trumpeting chump
Ignoring the sentient lullabies

Of the ant the sea and snailing vine
brilliant warnings scorched across
screaming red pines
heedless in that acrid social media brine
where all of my subjects
seem to dislike.

And I'm left to wonder
what is next
If it all bellies up
quiet and divine it will get.
Without a fuss
a compliment is a threat.

We were meta distracted self-obsessed
All that progressive progress left us bereft
but high-minded maggots
will clean up our mess.

I, the heavy queen Has Been
keeping court with ghost daughters
empty in my throne where I hold my own
Under my black iron crown hangs a slave's collar.

My bottom dollar
wartorn sweaty and crumpled bets
with any absurd luck
I will live long enough
to witness this fall
from my towering turret
of nothing at all.
Track Name: everything is coming together everything is coming apart
everything is coming together everything is coming apart
Track Name: lucky
I'm so lucky that he finally wrote me back today.
I'm so lucky that no one listens to a word I say.
I'm so lucky that men ask me the same question every day, to which I always respond, "no" but they'll ask me again tomorrow instead of just going away.
I'm so lucky there's no place I'm welcome to stay.
I'm so lucky I have nothing left to forsake.
I'm so lucky I don't have to pretend to ache.
Am I really worth trying to save with this dead heart that has no desire left to feel better than just OK.
I'm so lucky I have no name and no fan base.
Music predates possessive egos over inflate.
I should be so lucky just to make it for it's own sake.
It will outlive that uniform of glory long after those ambitious bones have been thrown into a shallow grave.
Maybe you will be so lucky to one day see it this way, after repeated losses and failures waste a few of your preciously short young decades and you've been stripped of all the trappings of what you once thought made you so fucking great.
I'm so lucky I'm not attached enough to ever again feel completely betrayed.
I'm so lucky that society has no openings for people like me with dirt on their face.
I'm so lucky. Would't you agree? I can't complain really. I'm so lucky. So anyway, back to what you were saying.
Track Name: equinox
Tried to be a painter
Tried to be a name brand
Tried to be a songwriter
Tried to be a stable hand
Tried to be a comic book maker
Tried to be a code breaker
Tried to be a marathon runner
Tried to be a window scrubber
Tried to be a truck driver
Tried to be a drug dealer
Tried to be a shady junkie
Tried to be a grease monkey
Tried to be, to give and receive, tried to speak no evil.
Tried to be, to give and receive, tried to live with the ghost that never sleeps.
Tried to be a good bartender
Tried to be a record promoter
Tried to be a desperate drunk
Tried to be an interloper
Tried to be a web designer
Tried to be a weird filmmaker
Tried to be a decent waitress
Tried to be a damn hot fuck
Tried to be a photographer
Tried to be a dishwasher
Tried to be a tattoo artist
Tried to crack open catharsis
Tried to be, to give and receive,
Tried to turn the other cheek.
Tried to be, to give and receive,
Tried to hear the spirit that never speaks.
Tried to ignore apathy
Tried to recycle everything
Tried to go out and be seen
Tried to disappear completely
Tried to be remembered
Tried to be forgotten
Tried to be annihilated
Tried to be at peace
Tried to be forgiven
Tried to be forsaken
Tried to be like that plastic bag
Blowing in the trees.
Tried to be, to give and receive,
Tried not to take it personally.
Tried to be, to give and receive,
Tried not to succumb to my demons of grief.
Tried to release all these doubts by burning in the spring.
Track Name: hope
No response is all the response I'll ever need from him.
Why bother trying to appease a dead horse
a broken record memory.
I can live with myself
At night I soundly sleep
And that much love is more than I will ever receive
from him
from her
from them
from these

They drop like flies
now that I am useless to their fish kill greed
in that hunt for supposed trophies
and pussy.

And if I ever did get a response
i'd no longer want it
at the exact second that I finally succeed
in being heard
in being seen
In being good enough
In being me.

It's quicker to die
by a gunshot a knife fight or dangling in the breeze.
Why bother standing on that snowy peak
Just waiting to freeze.

Hope is a deadly disease.
Let it go and you will be free.
Track Name: black mountain
lack mountain is falling down.
There's blood in the snow before it hits the ground.
In the white birch
there's screaming red wing birds.
Fire is now the only thing I make
that gets seen or heard.

Yellow moth
Tell them all to fuck off.
Records will break.
9 1/2 out of your 10 friends are fake.
Nothing back there matters anymore anyway.

In the gray hills
Strip off society's disease
and drip into the green pools
with the spirits in the trees.
Blue perseverance is the only thing I need.

To get through the narrows
let's keep going past the end of the road.
To the mother that does not hurt
I'm coming home.

Track Name: when
When you were a kid's kind of sad
cuz no one cared and no one came
you saw a snake on the roadside
shedding it's skin
and you prayed that you could do the same.

When a big fat hand trapped
and held inside your tiny cries
your mouth fell open
Filled with soap and water -logged
Little white lies.
But how could you have known then
the truth would only tarnish you for life?
How could you have know then
the truth would only dirty you for life?

When you heard the words betray
that love's nothing more than a cum stain
the moon soothed you more
than cold mothers do.
She could never accuse you
of seeking a safer embrace to crawl into.
She would never accuse you
of seeking a safer grave to crawl into.

When the burning begins again
and you gravitate around rage
as if you do not exist
beyond this spinster witch's red flame.
The doomed bastard stake
will tie you to the exiled devil child's name.
The one who did the rape
will smile as he set alights the blame.

When you recognize the mark that death made
how futile is grasping the Lazarus contrast
it's too late.
The feathers have already fallen away.
The feathers have already fallen away.

When that last second comes calling
a barn owl, your only witness will say,
"I was all you wished for
but I was here every single day
placing every obstacle upon your false hope's way
standing every obstacle along your false path's way."

When you get the joke
and the riddle has withered and grayed
it won't be for a lack of understanding
every ounce of your beloved suffering
was all just in vain.
Every ounce of your beloved suffering
was all just in vain.

When will you evolve into something more
than just a patchwork of your pain?
Track Name: waterbury peak
On the median strip
I sat like a kid sits
Plonked down in the grass
Feet wiggling
Bawling my eyes out
Rain drizzling
Semis howling by
Singing that long sad highway sigh
And I'm stuck here inside
This memory that survives
Half desperate in a sweat
Wishing I could just fucking die
Half amazed that grace still slips
In at the last second
Just to keep me alive
Though I'll never understand why
At Waterbury peak I realized
This moment is the only thing
I can call mine.
Track Name: north 46
Walking home from school
where punishment is play
writing the same sentence 100 times is great
cuz then we don't have to go outside
with the others who laugh at our lack of logos
then scar us with names.

Slipping up the icy grade
past Pennystreet Lane
over the Mohawk bridge
snow covered in decay
where the ghost lady gently whispers,
"it's gonna be alright one day".

Laying in wait
the beast constantly betrayed
whose hot fist warms our pillows.
Cold is the wind in the willows.
Mr. Toad haunts all our small darkened days.

Until something spills
and we wake to thrill and see our mother
at last risen from her grave
taking my brother and me
away from this chambered place
thrown frozen into a trunk of hope.

We beamed like cherubic Grigori.
Protection is heaven.
She loves us
she really does

But less than a mile goes by
before she pulls into a parking lot
and begins to cry.
I spy with my little eye
2 tiny broken twigs
in the early morning mist.

And as she turns back around
we know we'll be the ones
to pay for this.
So we leave something behind
on the corner of Black River Blvd
and North 46.
Track Name: the reward
Soaring like a warrior
sending sparks into space.
But 2 feet from the finish line
I will fall behind.

It was so close I could taste it
feel it's feather tips brushing my face.
It was so close I could sense it
bubbling just below the surface.

All the rivers of my dreams
come rushing for these clear blue seas.

But since kindergarten until last week
it has always been the case that
2 inches from the closing gate
I will fuck myself over
rip off my breast plate
and watch others
get showered with the love.

Left alone outside the light
No hope no roses no pride
On my agony knees again
Crying lime stones in the waste.

Defeat is my great glittering grand prize.

Smiling, grace bends down
and hands it to me every single time.
Yet I don't regret any of my lonely nights.
Even with this loser's fate
it's been a beautiful life.

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