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  • Streaming + Download

    phlegm (brad hamers & slomoshun) - debut LP 2002 Three Sides Of A Circle (3SC)
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lyrics

who
who is the genius
the one who creates the puzzle or the one who solves it?

i want to teach my pessimism to start the washing dishes
and my anxiety how to make a noose out of shoe string
i want my frustration to learn to fuck tranquility
and i want a sedative for my irritability and i want an ability to erase myself
from the treasure map
i want an excuse for my reasoning to go home with my logic
and a staple gun to give to my lack of attention span
i want to learn how to read books backwards
and write my autobiography from the ending
i want to sweet talk the seasons into coming home with me
i want to plant metal flowers and learn to grow up the hard way
i want to erase the ash tray from deck so my anxiety stops shivering
and i want to paint a landscape on my windows
so my pain stops trying to get inside
i want to break all these pencils
and use the lead for a bullet
then write my name on its back
so i can touch someone’s life
i want to be the train in your head
and the passenger sitting inside
the rain in a puddle
and the tear on your cheek every time you decide to cry
i’m the aspirin you swallowed and pride you washed it down with
the summer that burnt through your ego’s tanning lotion
i’m the off beat drummer in my chest
i’m the cotton club support capitalism deep throater
the karl marx grass planter
utopia on a bumper sticker theme song
i’m the worn soul on the shoe you couldn’t fit into
the lines between the words and all the people waiting in them
i’m the world on steroids throwing around other planets
i’m mother earth divorcing the grandfather clock
i’m a thief taking my words back
and i’m a broken heart in sling
i’m a girl who throws up in the toilet
and a family man who prays before meals
i’m a microwave dinner, an under-cooked and overprocessed set of moral standards
a checking account with unbalanced distribution of rights
i’m making molehills out of mountains
i’m bird shit on the window of opportunity
and the only thing knocking at my door is loneliness
i’m the nights you undress the tv with your eyes
i’m the blinds, jealous of the windows
i’m the garbage bag dry humping the wind
the cavity tooth in a comb used to groom society’s mind
and i’m the glitch in the system
the sysco food product of an environmental gang rape
the white robed bent up halo printed security blanket
the nail in a splintered nation of cross eyed taxi cab drivers
i’m a pair of glasses with a crack in my perception and
i’m a broken toddlers toy left in the kitchen garbage
cramped under all the left-overs questioning my purpose
i am a thing writing something and wondering who the fuck i am

who what how

i want to stop my heart from beating up my brain
i want to be a street light and block out the darkness
i want to buy a unicycle for love and be its drive
i want a half hour break
and 2 weeks worth of healthy days
a paid for afterlife and a sneak preview trailer for purgatory
i want to understand comprehension and
get braces for my vices
give a nicotine patch to my cigarette pack
and drink my bottled up fears
i want to tell him that his goals are just metal poles and a net
and i want to give him a pair of brand new cleats
i want to be super star with a light switch
and a battery in the sun
i want this song to remind you of a moment in your life
and i think i want too much
i need a burner in my mind so i can record my thoughts
i want her to write all over herself and jump in an envelope
i want to mail myself to the post office
i want her not to cry everyday
i want the speakers to stop popping
the ears to stop ringing and
the phone to hang itself up from the ceiling fan
i want fans
or do i
i want to think myself away
i want the federal bureau to get something in its eye
i want to write a world and move into it
i want a rent free mind and a common fee that’s just sense
i want a moving van for my abandonment issues
and an empty fish tank for all my tears
i want a belt for when i decide to hold up my memory banks
and a baggage check for the luggage under my eyes
i want to teach my clock to work with its hands
and find the sleep i lost three nights ago
i want the division between church and state to multiply itself into recognition
and all these good church going conditioner bottles to stop washing their hair
i want sandals for the amount of feet between here and home
and a welcome mat for the dirty souls trying to break into my kitchen
i want to eat inspiration for dinner and wash it down with black ink
i want to fire the wind and hire the earth as my typist
and write a life for myself and send it to an editor
i’m a salary trying to cut itself
and drown corporate worlds in my blood
i’m a needle trying to shoot itself
and overdose on my own vanity
i’m a padded wall trying to seize the moment
i’m a air conditioner trying to vent itself
and i’m a loaded gun trying get all this anger out
i’m a skyline trying to reach its limit
and a popping speaker that’s taking speech classes
i’m a thing writing something and wondering who the fuck i am

who what how

credits

from phlegm - one night stands with out of tune instruments in a room with blue wallpaper, released March 5, 2002
lyrics & vocals by Brad Hamers
production by Slomoshun

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brad hamers Portland, Oregon

writer, music-maker, collage-maker,, performance-maker, loud dreamer, mental gymnast

(member of: Through Flames, Child Of No Nation, Cat Child, Dust On Snow, Two Ton Sloth, Phlegm and Al Límite Collective)

Artist at Shrine13

www.bradhamers.com ... more

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