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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 unimpressed 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.
everything is coming together everything is coming apart
lucky 04:35
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.
equinox 03:41
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.
hope 02:56
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.
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. Indigo.
when 03:35
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?
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.
anhedonia 05:18
north 46 03:09
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 really. 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.
the reward 06:28
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. Congratulate. 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.


(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




autonomous clairsentient embracing hopelessness ((((((0))))))


a. b l e a k h a u s
p r o d u k t i o n.

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