From the recording I'm Balance
Music by Josh Imel; Melody and Words by Christopher Kinzel
Josh Imel: Vocals, electric bass, digital drums, keyboards, synth SFX
Christopher Kinzel: Vocals, keyboards, electric guitar
Lyrics
Oolong Phoebe - cool, unseemly, moving freely
Stay out of school
Staring strangely there insanely
Wearing mainly virtual tools
Your message unclean, your methods obscene
Conceptually fiendishly brandished machine
We fly through the air, relentlessly there
Singing "Ou est la mer",thinking cosmically rare
Singing... Thinking... Singing...
Oblong Missy
Autumn misbegotten if she play in the pool
Elbow reaching, ammo beach, enamel bleaching
Virtuous fool
When two of a kind beats all hands of time
The wretched ones fetching the dregs they maligned
In case of a fire, must cut that blue wire
For to squelch the rebellion or retune the choir
Singing... Ringing... Singing....
You're telling me that I need, need a friend to help me
I'm wondering if indeed freedom is unhealthy
Torture in its infancy, gentle as it can be
North arrow that you can't see
Read 'em, weep, and hand me your command
Sonic sniffing, phonic histrionics, sifting aerial views
Hiring urchins, bribing merchants
All in search of Terrible Two
Collating the data fields, we perceive
A signature of an Achilles' Heel
Breachable if, in a moment of malignancy,
We proceed with Plan B
Scorch into their inland sea,
Unleash a sweeping army on the land
Calling all receivers - This is the Resistance
Activate the sleepers, muster the militias
Rendezvous at midnight, gather in the hollows
Abandoning tomorrow
Kiss your mothers. Kiss your lovers.
Kiss your daughters. (Tortuous Souls)
Bring your brothers. Bring your fathers. (Mutual Moles).
Slaughtering cattle, preparing for battle - it is on
Porkins is a casualty, Greedo not so dandy
I’m missing below the knees - be there camphor handy?
Eye gouged and a punctured spleen, teeth are mostly gone
Believe me, it's a fractured scene
Even if we won we can't go on
So long, misfit, you now simply belong with the pluribus unum
No more plotting, codes forgotten, cortex rotting-- circular fuse
We too have complied, retracted the lie
Abandoned the side that would stifle the tide
Embracing the jewels, erasing the ghouls
With the leaner demeanor of virtual tools
Leaning... Preening... Keening...