1. |
Black Leather Gloves
02:38
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BLACK LEATHER GLOVES
(V.1)
It’s black on black outlined, who’s back from more the creature kind. I guess I’ll push the spectacles up, I’m operating a second site.
So zip the hoodie up, relax and pull the brains back. I’m sitting stroking elegance, no coincidence it’s happenstance.
Or so they call it, no time to speak on solace. It’s straight razors, leather gloves, Giallo, feeling flawless.
Yo Fumes I got this. No skipping back or turning pages. Like puberty, it’s frozen moments and yes awkward phases.
I’ll keep the caution, it’s sink or swim no options. I’m shaking in my busy bones, it’s Mr. Kool’s subconscious.
It’s what it does, it’s inked in blood, swinging pens and quills. It’s mandrake & witch grass, it’s got me grasping for the spells.
It’s mandrake & witch grass, it’s got me heading for the hills.
It’s mandrake & witch grass, I’m stomping through your daffodils.
(V.2)
It’s nothing once those lines blur, I feel exposed. No savings swallowed giggles, it’s the grinning man or Indrid Cold.
I suppose, I can go taste the confidence. No shared quips, I’m careless, it’s time to face the consequences.
But I’ll be truthful, I’m a closed eye on shadowed faces. A humbled man, a hot mess, a blaspheme on hollowed spaces.
That’s outrageous, that’s a Papercut on idle thumbs. It’s all these Blinky eyeballs and wasting all the crumbs.
I meant talent, I spend my time wasting metaphors. Who cares about my two cents, or love poems, a troubadour.
I need more, heat it up like soup and lentils. It’s the sad face, it’s me, we call it
Giallo Argento.
It’s a happy little life, there’s no room for feeling special. It’s these Black leather gloves, it’s Giallo Argento.
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2. |
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ANGRY WAVES
I feel awkward, sitting face-to-face with two strangers. In these orange plastic chairs in a dead man’s oasis.
A thousand mile stare, in my mouth burns in effigy. I’m here to feel uncomfortable, alas the group therapy.
One of thems a smoker, the other one drinks coffee. I’m here court ordered, destruction of private property.
So I’ll go first, exercise my worked nerves, push words through my clenched teeth and try to quench my thirst.
So a.
I sprout to talking, life, death and coffins. Sprouting life through chapped lips with lint in my pockets.
But these are the options, a dog day afternoon. I’d rather be at home and doing laps in my living room.
The air is stale, but the conversations dire. They’re sitting glassy eyed while dude’s playing with his lighter.
Now that’s desire. It’s time to waste away in hollowed faith, lean back in my plastic chair. Crashing like angry waves.
(Hook)
I’m here to stay and yes I’m crashing like angry waves. I’m here to say, yes a, I’m here to stay. (2x)
Crashing down like angry waves.
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3. |
Bittersweet
03:01
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BITTERSWEET
I gave you those black leather gloves, gave you hopes for my masterpiece. Decreased several speeds for my hollowed speech. Tragically, I feel it failed and left me open. So now I’m back with these tainted words, so I can feed you want my opus. Eat up.
(V1)
I call it Giallo Argento, you call it bleeding on instrumentals. I’m the Creature from the Whack Lagoon, if you have to check credentials. Hold up, believe me, cause I’m gonna feed you baby birds. I’m here to mend these broken wings if I don’t stop and pluck them first. Or worse, I’m gonna shake it with my all. Take your nest in two hands so I can simply watch it fall. Like splat! So now I’m buzzing off a coffee, standing on the sidewalk, staring at the concrete. A metaphor for friends and relationships today, there’s only four that I value all the rest can go away, but hey.
Let’s continue on this topic, stick with all the bitterness until I receive blackened optics, or at least, until you write a song about me. Ask if only friend or foe, and how you always truly doubt me.
Outstanding, I guess I’m here to level up. Pull the fear from my pockets, time to sip from all the cups and grails. Straight razored we set sails, keep the calm inside the speech until it’s time to exhale like ahhhh! Mr. Kool is bitter kids, strutting in a stocking cap, tight like I’m fitted lids.
Let’s see, am I burning this on purpose? This is Englewood Colorado. There’s no time to misinterpret, I’m bitter.
(Hook)
There’s no time to fall asleep, so I’ma tell you where the symptoms live. I’ll get you when you speak and now you know why am interested. It’s bittersweet. (2x)
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4. |
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READING CHUCK IN THE BURBS.
Anybody here have a read a story called “The Haunted?” Chuck wrote it.
(Hook)
I want to kill everyone. Satan is good, Satan is our pal. (2x)
(V.1)
EXTRA KOOL IS DEAD Y’ALL!
I died last year. I was lamping under water, simply grinning ear to ear. It was a beautiful suicide,
A WONDERFUL DECAY.
I was swimming in my own pearls, dodging judgment day.
SO WHERE YOU LOOKING FOR A DIRT NAP?
Naw, I was swimming laps. Paying attention to my manhood strokes, and all of that. I was sitting at the bottom, letting the drain pump please me, till things went sideways, and I started to feel queasy.
SO WHAT DID YOU DO?
All I could when you’re floating in your entrails, tug once, bite twice, I’d rather die from chemtrails.
BORN AGAIN?
From my very own teeth, my very own second chance, I am Jack’s disbelief.
So now I’m walking all alone, a second new to each his own. A second breath in my bones, taking shots of Adrenochrome.
AH CONSPIRACY THEORIES!
Yeah, and they’re trapped in my teeth. It’s only right for the name change, you can call me Gut Free.
(V.2)
So now when I blink, you see a second set of eyelids. Forked tongue behind teeth, fire in the iris.
Silence, I can’t afford to wake the neighbors. Reading Chuck on the porch in the burbs, it’s the greatest.
I say hey Dukes, why don’t we talk in strange truths. Or better yet Vamonos and keep these angles obtuse.
Poof! Now, leave me be, so I can continue to burn these pages. Yo the book is called “The Haunted” and the story’s outrageous.
Nameless, like a phantom’s candelabra. Feeling safe in suburban homes, just me and my DeVotchKa.
Gotcha, a simple life spent in denial. But the story’s in the words in the beauty’s behind the smile. Say.
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5. |
Dellamorte's Belly
03:23
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DELLAMORTE’S BELLY
Hook (4x)
Big shout to the days, unphased I’m feeling used.
V.1
Once upon a daydream, Dellamorte it’s gravy, stop eating once the belly’s full. I’m feeling sort of lazy. Oh I must’ve stretched it thin, you can hear it in my topics. Call me double tied fists, but my hands are in my pockets. Stop it. My notebook reads exhausted options and cute little stories of lagomorphs riding rockets.
Huh! So how you like that? These words are spiked bats. I got a belly full of anxiety and you can pay me for that. Now.
V.2
Lay me down, you want these words, you’ll have to pay me now. Licked lips crack real fast, so I’m going to raise some brows.
I never liked it. It never liked me. If it speaks the words otherwise, it’s lying through teeth. Please swing those swords because I’m out of your league. I swear I’m here to eat, just call me Little Otik. Bleak.
When it coughs, it’s incredibly crossed, expelled the wind passive and it’s terribly soft. So.
V.3
Once again, finally found the force yo, so let’s begin. Time to waste the ink, like cuts I’m getting under skin. Sins! Hardly quips it’s more like I’ve broken my ribs, I need to keep this simple so you can say “Gee wiz!”
Kids you want to teach, I guess this ain’t what it is, but if you think this song is about you than it probably is. Still I need to eat, so these words can cast spells. I put it in my fatten belly, let me sharpen my skills. So.
If you think this song is about you than it probably is. (2x)
This song is not about you, get up out of your heads.
This song is not about you.
You’re not special.
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6. |
Jitters
02:29
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JITTERS
I’m feeling nervous, crossed T’s like I’m idolized. No lies, three whites like Snapaku eyes. In time lust will bring it to the surface. Slipping until the pen speaks and give myself a purpose. Hold up!
I can’t talk because these fingerprints are hollow, this is Levana and our ladies of sorrow. I’ll say it slow, because the growth has stunted years. Feeling blue like them flowers, and the mother of tears.
Fingers crossed, there’s no time for proper handshakes. I’m trying to shake em off, I got them jitters, I am false faced.
No wait, cause I’m the cause of my hypocrisy. Listen, opposites attract now that’s dichotomy. Or philosophy, the heart strings are part of me. Wisdom, like the autumn winds to kill off all the olive trees.
Please, I thought I said I was feeling nervous. Blair witching in the corner and that’s completely on purpose.
Of course, I’m feeling slightly out of sorts, but I’m man enough to know when it’s time to bear that cross, inverted. Worn like a badge of stolen courage, mourn when I’m gone and I’m fucking feeling nervous. Stay tuned, I’m feeling nervous now. Just a little though, I’m feeling nervous now, I got them jitters.
I got them jitter bug jitters, them, jitterbug jitters, them jitterbug jitters. I’m feeling nervous friend. (4x)
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7. |
Madame Blanc
02:54
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MADAME BLANC
(Hook)
It pours when it fibs, it turns lives when it stops. It pirouettes in the skin, that’s why I call it Madame Blanc. (2x)
(V.1)
From the first time to the last time, from the force fed to the outlines. From the Mad God to the downtime, to the fresh pens inking out lines.
Till the crows cry, they must fly, till the life fades from my both eyes. Till the tongue slips on cold ice, I must keep my clothes nice. MUST!
Call it what it is and it’s insipid. To the fantastic fatty acid simply called a lipid. Terrific! Like my mama said “Kool it’s time to zip it.” So I can wash it down with a tall glass, a tall glass of liquids.
(Hook)
(V.2)
From the last time to the first. To the first speech leaked words, to the last breath leaves hearse, To the breast plays these nerves.
I can’t wait to take to these herbs, days and nights, it’s all a blur. Obelisk faced it’s so absurd. Opulent taste is all my worth.
LURCH! Till I find a way.
DIRT! Till my dying days.
EARTH! Let’s go fly away.
PERCHED! On the fire escape.
Now that’s a waste of life, sometimes it gives you lemons. With a sad face, we cupcake until we get unfriended. Splendid.
My real name is Bradworth or Bennett. A blast from verbal package, I’m feeling truly independent.
Now that’s breakfast. We chew and chew, no longer feeling peckish. From the last breath to the first kiss, that’s truly feeling epic. That’s expected, but anxiety got me gently loved and tempted. But even when these haters hate, my mama thought. My mama said I’m precious.
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Extra Kool Denver, Colorado
An archly fearless live performer, Extra Kool challenges his audiences with an unwavering stare and a direct and hauntingly
intense vocal delivery. Part modern-day Dadaist, part hip-hop art terrorist, Extra Kool is the essence of truth in advertising.
(Tom Murphy)
... more
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