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Coming live from a level one evacuation zone
Doom look nigh, the sky is a sepia tone
Dystopian hues covering the moon
If only there was something we could do
Coming live from a level one evacuation zone
We could use a rain dance, and 40 days of h20
Packed highways, running from the plumes
If only there was something we could do
My homegirl said if it was a novel she wouldn’t believe it
My wife is worried sick about all of the woodland creatures
My mother’s on the tele and telling me we should flee the home
The whole coast is burning, ain’t nowhere that we can go
Measuring miles with my fingers on a photo map
Predicting where the flames’ll spread, tracing out a smokey path
4th straight summer we’ve been choking on the snowing ash
All I gots a joker’s laugh like “where the fuck the locusts at?”
Record heat. Record wind. Another broken record spins
This the worst since the last, the record has been set again
Spreading like some pestilence, a deeper grave to sink into
Everything’s on fire, but is your baby’s gender pink or blue
I was on the screen with my peoples on the grid
I started off our meeting with me reading through a list
Of all the monumental happenings that find us in distress
It’s about an hour now, and I ain’t finished yet
Coming live from a level one evacuation zone
All our paying no attention has finally paid in full
Evidence piles, sweep it underneath the room
If only there was something we could do
Coming live from a level one evacuation zone
Everything is playing exactly like we’ve been saying so
And all of us just shrug until we bruise
If only there was something we could do
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Almost all apologies are for those feeling guilty
That Doing better’s dirty work, I keeps the healing filthy
I check the boxes off, and frolic in a field of lilies
It’s prolly time we did something about that heel, Achilles
Yeah, I’m illy with the foresight, a fortnight beyond what you be on
Generic all around, no Lou Vuitton Accoutrement
Wondering what unforeseen will be the final coup de gras
And how the script will flip when filtered through the troops of QAnon
My suit of armor is karma, thicker than blood water
Offer the honor, it mutual with the dun dadas
I’m running out purpose, my legacy fading
My picture Memory hazy, it’s existentially draining
Ain’t even hitting that bad, I’m ridiculous (ridiculous)
Healthy and I’m paid smack dab in the thick of it
The fault that I feel won’t let me cool in the cut
I’m just worried I ain’t doing enough (doing enough)
I will not feel my sorry for myself
I will not feel my sorry for myself
All the many ways it hurts, better people’ve had it worse
So I will not feel sorry for myself
I will not feel sorry for myself
I will not feel sorry for myself
All the ways to make it work, other folks have had it worse
So I will not feel sorry myself
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Sorry that it’s been a while, but I’m going wild at my home
It’s a sanctum and asylum where I stuff the rising silo
My stream of thoughts are vibrant blurs filled with underlining typos
And every appliance I own is a package for Wylie Coyote
So hi ho, I’m off to light the wick and let the dynamite blow
Do my part inside the sideshow to demilitarize the 5-0
I saw the clips of barren deserts complete with fiery cyclones
And I’m cooped up, y’all consume brunch and hit the links for 99 holes
Like “No ones taking summer from me, fall and spring are off limits, too
I’m out here growing winter’s food, that’s something that the winners do
I’m disillusioned thinking individuals will give a shit or two
I’m wound too tight while hanging by the fraying thread of a spinning spool
That meme you posted, isn’t true, that article is farcical
The lies they wield are different tools, a ringer in their arsenal
My scarlet clothes are dripping swag but I’m holding down my Alimo
I’m gathering the salad bowl and beaming like the alpenglow
So, sorry that it’s been a while, but I’m wyling at the property
Even though the Catalina domicile looks like I scratched the lottery
It’s the rewinding back monotony, the violent, fascists policies
The deniers in the comments, trashing science backed hypotheses
The colony is Hives Squad, we still on the case of time and space
No longer turning to mind erasers when face to face with dire straits
I lie awake and pine and plot like folks who missed the final shot
Ay, caramba, sayanora, I don’t say goodbye a lot.
I kinda rock an overthinking cap that swears my flesh is cursed
But allows me to see through the newest clothing of the emperor
We’ve been adverse to promises in bottles that have washed ashore
Your paradise is bottom floor, I’ve bottomed out and wanted more
Easy like the Commodores, pissy as the God of War
Picky as a painter’s wheel, savor meals like Omnivores
We on the course, gone too far, humanity is riding cross the bridge
And I’m watching it all happen while I’m wyling at the crib
Bout to have a whole lot of down time
But you out yo damn mind if you
Think I'm heading outside
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It seems I’m still writing songs about exterminating rats
I guess we can’t move on without us ever circulating back
They decimate my seeds, eat a germinating patch
And when my fucking food is gone, I wanna merk that mangy pack
I thought I saw a corpse in between the rows of tators
And told myself I’d find the time to dispose it later
When later came, I found the horrors of a faulty rusty spring
Had only trapped the Remmy, causing hours of suffering
I released the lever that should have broke its neck
And it curled up and licked the wounds of where the crows had pecked
It’s breathing and it’s bleeding said it wouldn’t heal the injuries
So I went to search for tools to put it out its misery
An axe or a shovel, a mallet or a stamper
The weight of their new function was something I couldn’t handle
I covered up the little guy, and I mustered the compassion
Slammed the weight up on him, and I haven’t set that trap since
There’s gotta be a better way to do this
But if there isn’t one then I just need to own it
I’m worried I might be starting to lose it
Getting all emotional over a fucking rodent
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I’ve lived in three cities, and two are on fire
All I see is ire spilling when I’m off and online
Peripherally posted viewing through the barbed wire
If you wanna be inspired, then you’ve got the wrong guy
Tonight I watched a man shot and killed live on a grainy stream
Last week I saw the same damn thing
Suburbanites cheered like rooting for their favorite team
That’s a big fucking bell that you can’t unring
Safe to say, that it’s been a down year
Thankfully I didn’t bring a child here
Vials of tears, I can’t waste the liquid
Erase existence, I’m a go without fear
I’m lying, except for the cryin’,
Giddy on up and accept the assignment
Pulley out the chasm and the depths that I’ve dived in
Eye on zenith, set for Orion (ugh)
I’m on the boards and I’m dropping gems
About dying systems and opulence
No need for the need of intoxicants
When every breath you take is bad oxygen
I’m like woah, blaming everything but wouldn’t point a finger in the direction of all the damage we’ve caused
Bite the hand that we feed off, see saw
Hanging in the balance of the planet we’ve lost
What a decade this year has been
It’s like we ran out of oxygen
Most days it felt like it wouldn’t end
Unless we disappeared along with it
Heartache and heartbreak
With Headaches like earthquakes
Relentless and dooming
The pain was consuming
It’s unfair to throw this weight upon a dying woman’s shoulders
But it’s a great reminder we’ll be fighting til it’s over
It’s heartbreaking watching people sink and hit the bottom’s touch
But it’s a great reminder that down here there’s a lot of us
For every trumpeter who’s riffing values with the bad notes
There’s a tune that buoys me when I’m drowning and I lack hope
I’m taking off tonight, the nihilism and the hurt is huge
Better get some rest because tomorrow we’ve got work to do
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Let’s hear it for the heroes we’ve been treating like some hostages
The people we deem essential except for when the profit’s split
If they can risk their health to ensure that our fries are bottomless
Than we shake the pockets of bosses in corner offices
The saga’s getting ominous, I mean that’s obvious
I watch it with my oculus, no need for an optometrist
Providence is spotty, but it’s probably not apocalypse
Nor does it seem like we’ve morphing towards a conscious shift
I Waka Flaka spit a scripture from the omnibus
To warn of warring Commodus misinforming the populus
Could use a fleet of folk to align as our accomplices
Instead we at each other’s throats like Remus and Romulus
Ain’t ya consummate optimist or a prophetic novelist
Just a cognizant cog yelling down with the monuments
My astonishment’s foolish, I should have known that these hominids
Would sabotage the act and the curse at the consequence
Always it goes
Out of control
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released September 30, 2022
Production by Claud Six
Vocals by Claud Six except where noted.
Recorded by Claud Six
Mixed by Claud Six
Mastered by Smoke M2D6
Photo by Claud Six
Album Layout by Claud Six
