Collectible Medley Demo

by Adam Selene

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about

A medley of my favorite verses of mine from the Collectible Humans project. Most songs are from the EP String Theory, which you can download for free at collectiblehumans.bandcamp.com

Recorded in a single take and released with little post production.

lyrics

unleash the volley of doll parts, weapons of mass distraction
obliterate middle class and market their carcasses back to them
arm the farce participants, subsidize matches for arsonists
while dow drone savages trickle down ash for the starved to sift
i passed the mission where accomplishment's rhetorical
and they're bored of any story that doesn't accompany a musical
taping their ruby slippers to collected third world melodies
as they watch the poverty line rise up over the levees
this is that voodoo zombie uprising piercing the boarded windows
eclipsing the sun with a fury only visible through pinholes
so the perforation of security blankets
flings the only available safety net over the villain proclaimed criminals
stand indivisible, or let the sabers determine the ratios
cut the pacing short when the gun jumpers plug musket balls on some real talk,
batteries sold separately, plus shipping costs
phasers set on apathetic to true contents of the captain's log
just another wall for the bricks to aspire membership
unloading the mortar to pour cement to the wingtips then
vent poisonous rhetoric that no topical cream could remedy
cranial vacancy? prerequisite for inclusion in economy
they're vomiting into the echo chamber till the resulting
products match the possible flavor combinations of comfort's cadaver
baffling reflections with some king missile identity crisis
slipping a bite mark over whatever neck sticks out above the ice
over the frozen seas now made with real cheese substitutes
teaching the offspring subjugations priority over dreams
i crumble mountains over ovaltine while self identified
mountain men ovulate over footage of the lying kings
redefine the grindstone the plastic shape their faces against
pent up aggression lays lifeless on greener pastures beyond the fences
made to be climbed, these furious times are defined by the blurring of lines
so its become a crime to lack a proper mask to hide behind
welcome ladies and gentleman to this divided state of bewilderment
where women and children are filtered and the truth hurts, but there's a pill for it
a million simmering amphibians floating atop of the bubbling cauldrons
and the olfactories of dromedaries manufacture beliefs by the thousands
where dorothy persistently cringes at every inch taken by butterflies
and the em city routine is dull but it's twice as green on the other side
they hesitate when they remember the day when a slip of the tongue had brought it against
the blades who guard escape from the bottom rungs of consciousness
I promise this, all plugs lead to the god machine
Where they saturate your future footsteps with vaseline
there's a fox behind the wheel swerving over the liberal medians
who lands his next meal casting pick up lines to jesus fish
the time has come, the angel said, to die for many things
for boards and nails and candle wax, for puppeteers and strings
For while the boiling seas still runneth over, melting waxen wings
should I regale you of motives of why the caged bee stings?
'cause it's a thin white line between the addict and his epitaph
when the last laughing bastard collapses when his stance is taxed
as every flash in the chests of of the innocent is traced by simple math
it's twice as offensive when the dot connectors overlook the basic facts
I mean it's not as if when the bottom half is slashed that gravity affects the summit
we all know what goes up must rise in quarters subsequent
but when the mortars hit the supposed martyr we'll bury him with his doctrine
he had a lot of nothing to say and in the end it was all forgotten
it's obvious our perpetual departure from the meter
untill these silly sybarites don a more taciturn demeanor
and cease from flooding the aperture with their nimiety
aiming to breed their way to effulgence without actually trying
e for effort beat the bastards destined to irresponsibly birth
the children of invention failing to read the manual first
lachrymology savants are constantly clobbered by consonants
while our bravura stands a paragon of dominance
to topple counterfeits, display daedal deliveries
fatal abilities, sesquipedalian poetry
hold up your torches, light the throats of the aphonic
armed with dulcet vagaries boxing awkward through conflicts
since ebullience alone will never constitute conquest
i swear to god as vulgar feats of my sedulous complex
inside the box prepackaged nonsensical adages
clog the ventricles of every last cathode addict
It's only hip hop, stupid. It's not rocket surgery.
sprinkling box cutter developments over the crashing plane scape
as the battering ram shatters by the resilience of the gate
the intertwining of fates in this most desperate rat race
with a feline at the finish line ready to bite that smile off your face
closing fists at an uncomfortable pace my grip is cold and calloused
as the hand that drops the cradle makes the breaking bows jealous
my fellowship is split between the illegitimate and liars
who spoon the same body of water no matter the nature of the fire
but i'm alive so i guess i should be breathing still
despite the ominous fog settling at my window sill
peel the skin back and count the rings as evidence
i'm feeling in the name of a million smoldering steeple remnants
a simple sentence for my sins, all i ask for when my time comes
despite the complex rhetoric native to the tip of my tongue
i'm five rungs beneath jacob's fleeting footsteps
with an extra angel to wrestle to prove the devil isn't through yet
all i wanted to do was just to touch the least sharpened edges of her grin
but when they say that chicks dig scars they meant they started with fresh skin
lesson learned and yet i beg to repeat the question ignoring the obvious answers
as now the tiniest of dancers trade point shoes for razors and tap out the damage
hand over fist, open palm kisses this arms race left sneaker prints on my wrists
tandem in nature, the flipping of switches that often would lead the to ripping of stitches
persistently shifting positions the dissonance gripping my chest has refused to desist
and i'm clumsily dropping my breath into clutches of angels no demon can swear to resist
how awful is this? i'm flailing my arms for translucent beings that i'm not sure exist
trailing the coat tails of shadows down alleyways, rabbit holes, rivers, and mountains of brick
my queen of hearts shrieks with a terrible temper, her shoulder blades pressing my throat when i speak
and the residue left on my fingertips serves as a painful reminder it wasn't a dream
redeemed by the beating of hearts as my chest collects bruises in twos through the worst of the drama
my violent design, defective at best wasn't born with enough wrists to slit in her honor
haunt me no longer cursed apparition as i exorcise my right to justify wrongs
while the subsequent plucking of petals has left me across two unbearable nails in the palms
she loves me not
look at the ethnically translucent and their collection of novelty humans
all sorted by colors and flavors, cultural capitalism reduced lending
to the commodification of truth blending belt buckles into bruises
leaving poor little casper's lack of a reflection forever transmuted
so when the hip is dislocated from the movement
I bet the one legged race will only then serve to label the stupid
swallow that pride down to the root and conjoin the knees to the dirt
of every star bellied sneetch found bleeding ink from its ironic t-shirt
see, wegro fruit less strange on these suburban lawnscapes
typical sheep skinned lycanthrope types with a tourist's gaze
these kids are last in place, stuffing voids with the soul they sought in slums
devoid of a point they sift through shifting sands searching for glittery crumbs
sucker punch or run, fucker, clutch your fisher price hand guns
but when the man comes around you need to return the investment and then some
they'd slammed their thumbs too many times to try building any culture at all
and practiced jumping to prove them wrong but never learned how to play basketball
but in a perfect world, where every potentially offending edge is rounded up to the ninth nearest cloud,
the bleach skinned ungulates are meticulously funneled through heaven shaped porcelain corridors
into the creamiest little slice of perfect you could imagine four absolutely essential walls could make
where every man, male, and boy is the same optimal shape and color of beautiful and unique snowflake
perfectly packaged cellophane replicants, translucent and superfluous, fitter, happier, and more productive
shining archetypes of the advances in the science of genetic engineering that eventually rendered eugenics unnecessary
perfection personified, a landscape frictionless and devoid of any unnecessary passions for the sake of practicality
in short…
it's perfect.
smiling has its benefit when you sacrifice your purpose
(it's perfect)
you'll find the gallows get their fill irrespective of the verdict
(it's perfect)
the all seeing eye banks most of its currency on worship
(it's perfect)
and freedom's only free once you produce your proof of purchase
(it's perfect)

credits

released August 6, 2013

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Adam Selene Denver, Colorado

Adam Selene is a Baltimore born, Denver based rapper of raps that raps at rap time.

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