The Mission for

The Mission for Cowabunga Breakfast

You can and must surmise what sorts of things this mission is for. This is breakfast for those who are awake at this hour. I think it explains itself and it's memes pretty clearly. Written throughout 2012 and recorded some time after the turn of the calender, this is actually my fourth album, but the first released online.




Parasites Gotta' Die

I was a stranger, and you were a stranger, and we were both stranger than most.
And the ghost that pursued us would always elude us, and burn us until we were toast.
It was fun being toast for a while, we'd smile whenever the poison would flow.
Ooo, drinking and dreaming and sinking the boat,
parasites gotta' die with the host.

I was a dreamer and she was a dreamer, but we never got up on time.
We had sex, drugs, and more, and eventually bloodshed that started with liquor and lime.
Well we both walked away with a few dozen scars, and some laughs at each other's expense.
Ha ha, she'll never get her white picket fence, those parasites don't ever pay their own rent.

Usually I must be feeling awful glad.
I know that I'm addicted right down to the molten core.
Life is one big, nervous mystery I'm trying to record;
there's a lengthy inner history of parasites and war.

He was a local and I was a tourist but we were both nomads, for true.
Though we lived in the gutter, our tribes drank as brothers, and sang 'we're the fortunate few'.
After five years and counting I still can't remember the moment that I said goodbye.
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.
Parasites gotta die, gotta die.

Extremely Slippery Gold

My actual initials are M followed by C. I am a metaphysical wizard of the nth degree.
I built my box of secrets and I swallowed the key;
ya shallow bitches ain't gonna get nothing out of me.
Flick you in the ear, spin your brain the fuck around,
pop ya in the kisser with the horrible, horrible sound.
Step into the laboratory, that is where I can be found, and it's going to be a long way down.

See I am a genuine mutant genius, you may find that the worms spit out spice
faster than words can unwind.
And if I'm really comfortable I really lose my stupid mind.
I am floating in a sea of surreality and vibrational frequency that seems to speak to me
though I am not fast enough to fully understand it.
Blinking my eyes in unison with the streetlights like I planned it.
Ima psychedelic riot and cool, cool handed. Reaching ever higher, as demanded.

But now keep quiet, hold your breath and wait for the first fire.
Answered my own riddle and I'm not even beginning to get tired. There's a real reason,
but you wouldn't hear it until it expire.
And my voice is only a note in a larger choir.
We are now changing, as we always have been. Unattended minors in a school inhabited by
better has-beens, and seekers, and vipers than I care to dissect.
As if they owed me debt which I could forcibly collect.
But the problem is the language used to describe the effects is pretty shoddy at best,
and dissolves in neglect. And I'll admit, I'm not a college-educated architect,
never going to be exactly correct.

And as I move through faces, leave my friends behind and journey to strange places,
and strange mornings, and unspoken, unspeakable glossolalia without warning
yes, I struggle in the current just to write some of it down,
and when it leaves the pen it disappears on the rebound. It's the swiftly cutting blade
of the immediate moment. Orange light flickering on the senses and soft spoken.
And here I am spinning straw into gold tokens, but I don't need a lot
because I know the game is broken.
I'm claiming something I am unsure if I can possess,
and the trick is learning how to slice up infinite regress without a big mess,
I guess practice is the key. I don't believe it's pointless but that's not a guarantee.
I understand I am alone in my own mind, and my modus opperandi is completely undefined.
I am a ghost in a machine in the kingdom of blind swine and a faun warned me
not to drink up any of their wine. I fucking listened.
I am not a prisoner or a victim. Big Illuminati is the Boogeyman system.
Enjoy it while it's happening and suddenly it's gone. Trying everyday to tap into
something you can't con.

I am moving to a rhythm I can only hear in my head. Not my problem if it's something you resent.
This was really just a way to ventilate the space a little,
couldn't tell you what it's truly supposed to represent.
Just a creature made of feeling, sustained by need.
A billion hungry voices that mamma's gotta' feed. And can we do this forever?
It's not as if we're not clever. We're standing in the right place, now hand over the lever.
I've been talking your ear off all evening, I know.
Was the message delivered? Yes? Good. On we go.

Juice Box

Hey you people now don't be sad. We're all in second grade.
And you might not know it now to look at it, but you got it made.
There's a hundred million things like sleeping you'll probably never really understand.
Bitches and bees and spiders and fleas and buffalo stompin' free.
You might not see it in the present tense, but everybody's all a seed.

You could be the littlest giant in the ocean and still ride the big balloon through time.
Or you could be a clever sloth, a mechanical sloth, and emote through the circuitry of your mind.
We prefer fruit, can't get enough fruit. Gotta eat a new fruit today.
If it rains for a whole week and it's lightening and the power goes out, how about an old board game?
No way, I saw it was twenty years prior, and the basement flooded like a miniature lake.
Big whoosh sound, lunch bell down, man with the eraser - mean, mean fake.

Flap your little hands like mad, you're a float in the big parade.
And you might not have a lot of helium yet, but you've got a lot of carbon to trade.
They're gonna' try to cut your ears with the clippers; misdirection is the name of the game.
Uniform Thing says 'raise your hand' and he don't care what's your name.

You could build a compass in the woods if you know how to operate the Earth's magnetic field.
But you're not lost, not yet. Don't place your bet until you see if they rigged that roulette wheel.
Juice box life and cushions; you will never outgrow cartoons.
When the water in your head makes you dizzy, you can always blame it on the moon.

All the Rocks in Pumpkin Town

Let's roll down to Pumpkin Town, we should leave today.
Last night we played at the Palace Theater, and they booed us off the stage,
but on the train I saw you smile in your sleep, and I felt brave.
We're going to prove something to ourselves.

And in the name of our brave and noble-hearted tribe,
we keep the jack 'o' lantern flame alive. We go a-truckin' through the fog,
though there are signs that we may break. We recite Stick Stickly's address,
and we feel a bit more sane.
We're gonna knock 'em dead with our loud, shy sound.
Digging up the bones in Pumpkin Town.

When I was a wooden puppet, back before I came alive,
I could jump, twist, and gesture; but I couldn't use my eyes.
Friday nights I'd sing for lose change at the Muppets' open mic.
That was the only kind of life I was aware of.

Then through some twisted pumpkin magic, I wound up with my own organic brain.
I don't complain about the pain I now can feel, because I am real.
These days I only sing my song to call the rain.
Make it rain.

(it rains)

So, let's take the show to Pumpkin Town, where everyone will cheer.
We can drink right from the rivers of Shipyard pumpkin beer.
The call goes out in all directions as the band begins to play -
"You've been a long time gone, but you're welcomed here to stay."
You gotta find your soul as the wheels go 'round.
Flipping all the rocks in Pumpkin Town

Stoned Ape

Occupied headspace, invariable flux. Mis-communication, I lost seventy bucks.
But hallucinogenics are still are the rage. Doors of perception for those who are brave.

 Absorb, synthesize, broadcast, surround.
That is the name of the mayor of our town.
Absorb, synthesize, broadcast, surround.
That is the method I use to get down.

Elegance, appitude, fortitude, grace, are not always needed to decompress space.
Migration, invention, focus, and flight, stretch out with your feelings and you'll be alright.
Truly made worth it when I saw that sound,
psilocybin producers at large underground.

Absorb, synthesize, broadcast, surround.
Those are directions our ancestors found.
Absorb, synthesize, broadcast, surround.
That is the method I use to get down.

(freak out some)

Timulteous origins, fungus galore. Language development alien spore.
Civilization and art on the rise. Compelled by the voices of stuff in the sky.

Now, vilify, misinform, separate, confound -
those are the tricks of the bandits in our town.
Absorb, synthesize, broadcast, surround.
Art, love, and drugs, maybe tear it all down.

Waitin' on the Magnet

Hangin' out at Ernie's Disposal,
waiting for the magnet to carry me away.

Last Stand at Mertland

There's nothing to drink, in the kitchen. Purple Kool-Aid turning blue.
Where's that Sparrow Cat when you need her? I've got candy corn melted in my shoe.
We were laughing on Christmas with the ladies wearing white, no,
they're never never gonna' catch that old Grinch.
Aluminum foil will do in a pinch. Aluminum.

Thanks for all the burritos that you sent me through the mail.
And the garbage bag or bread, it's the thought that counts. In fact I like mine a little bit stale.
Just lately, blood and snot. Reoccurring absentee.
Are they sirens I hear, are they sirens I'm looking at?
Wonder was looking at me.

There's nothing to drink in the kitchen. We got relish and what looks like cheese.
We'll recycle the beer cans at daybreak. I was kinda' thinking Chinese.
And as you know, Uncle Scrooge became a new man indeed, but Marley still carried his chains.
And I don't think that's fair because he did a good deed, and he helped his friend avoid a grim fate.

Hole in your sole (-oul) as you're walking. Dirty socks now soaking wet.
Contradiction and the flashbacks, where's the dollar we had? I forget.
Now let's scrub all the chalk off the walls of the attic; get headquarters ready to die.
When the whole bush is burning, the crickets, they ain't got time to say goodbye.

Closer Away

I was mad at myself, I was mad at my family.
And I'd stay up real late so no one would talk to me.
Hated going to school, but I loved my pet fish.
And I would write, write, write it all down.

Well, I loved that sound with my feet in the air.
They said 'happy birthday' I said, 'who fucking cares?'
I wanted to smoke my dope and kiss that girl;
but I never learned how to do a kickflip.

I was the only motherfucker in the world who felt pain;
acting like a magnet for the black and white rain.
Gonna' stare a big hole in the front of your head;
I'm gonna read my book and fail phys ed. She said
'I love it when you smile, you should do that more
but I could only scream, scream, scream.

Never got caught by the cop or the shrink.
Tiny drops of blood on my face in the sink.
What I mean what I say don't ever agree;
come a little closer, get away from me.
Come a little close, now get away.
Come a little closer, get away from me; please get a little closer away.

Hated myself maybe less than society.
Turn the music up so no one talks to me.
It's a very strange life when you're extremely aware,
try to block some things out but the truth don't care.
She said 'you're the one whose going to have to fix your head,'
but I wanted to be dead, dead, dead.

BUG

I got born three days ago, gonna die by the end of the week.
Mom and Dad never met me, or any of my five hundred brothers.
All my friends got eaten up by birds, they struggled only for a minute;
and the birds will get eaten themselves someday, but that's not a whole lot of comfort.

See, I've got ninety-some hours, trying to get laid before I die.
I do not understand this compulsion, I'm keeping up behind the times.
You can always ask for directions if you like yelling at the ground,
when you're thirty feet up and your antenna's pointed down;
and your natural defenses won't postpone your expiration,
when you're thirty feet up and you're antenna's pointed down;
you will know me by the sound of the colors.

The ants are herding aphids, I have seen them do it well.
They've got this far our social hierarchy like you could not believe.
Running errands for the queen in a death spiral until the end.
Funny thing about the hivemind, at least they've got a lot of friends.

See how the fish are searching for a quick and easy meal.
Watching shadows on the surface; could be me if I get too close.
Perhaps a hook on a decoy on a line on a reel,
but when you think you know it all, you misinterpret how you feel.
You're a bundle of sensations in a shell of pure enigma.
When you think you know all, you misinterpret how you feel.
Pay attention to the sound of the colors.

Life is a pretty tasty meal for other life. You friends are a great way to get to know yourself.
So who are you? A jillion paper wings; your kids are going to wonder too.
Humans love anecdotes - let's decompose.

Well turtles live forever and a day, but they won't tell you how.
Must be lonely in a shell so long, they don't want that curse for you.
I asked the owl about the bumblebees, and she said they'd all been gone.
She read the bark on the tree, and she informed me they lived on.

And now the lightening bugs are signaling each other in the dark;
a single moth flies in the fire because he thought he found the moon.
One of these days I'm gonna break out and go see the big waterfall.
I'm gonna hover right above it and I won't be scared at all.
There are times when I must realize what it means to be an insect.
I'm gonna hover right above it and I feel so very small.
I am drawn, as we are all, to the colors.