1. |
Concussion
02:19
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Will you ever love your friends enough to tell them that their ends will duplicate their brutal means with inconvenient accuracy? Cause I’m down for breaking the law if it means helping you to saw through loneliness with a radical love in coffee shops or legion halls. But if you really want to make those people trade getting beat on for jamming out to all their favorite songs, you’ll catch an argument from me, cause a concussion is no concession. If you were really all about getting revenge or death before dishonor I wish you would send a similar passion and fashion to solving all of the ills that keep your so-called friends from evolving.
Will you ever love your friends enough to stop and remember when three chords and screams could save us all from curling into balls? But sometime along the way you came to think it would be safe to just give in and self destruct- that you weren’t good enough to ever really change those people’s days from dreary delusions of utter confusion. Well, I once thought the same for myself, but being cold never kept me warm- and if you give it time I think you would find no difference between your heart and mine, cause our motivations are coinciding, but you use your fists and I use flowers and rhyming.
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2. |
Get Rid Of The Greed
02:03
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I’m not gunna wait until I turn 30 to start voting my conscience- and I don’t even care what Bernie told me, although it’s perfectly clear to me what he meant. We’re all sick of incrementalism, waiting around for capitalism to produce the cures we know we need. It’s a moral revolution, and the obvious solution is to get rid of the greed.
Can’t afford to wait for this party duopoly to split up or divide just like a cell- and I don’t even care what Obama asked me, they can’t figure it all out by themselves. Be it neo-liberalism or honest conservatism, their best work is no vaccine. I think the time is getting nigh to bite our tongues, to finally try to get rid of the greed.
I’m not gunna wait until my folks retire to try to get them healthcare they deserve- and I don’t even care what Hillary told me, I won’t grade my politicians on the curve. Cause democratic socialism looks to be the better way to grow more perfect and more free. But it’s up to you, and as for me I’m gunna choose to try to get rid of the greed.
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3. |
Happy Couch
01:45
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Halloween at Casa Gomez, they got Bad Brains on the stereo, the Rubinoff begins to flow, and there’s no losing to budget boozing, until the next morning once you quit your snoring, or you wake up dead just like your friends all said you would. Because it’s hard to try to find a place between the never ending beer pong and stumbling throngs, because all that I’ve got is just seven bucks and an empty tank in my mother’s truck, so I was pretty stuck, but then I struck some luck.
Fortunate me, I met somebody while dancing in the living room, just doing a tango with the broom. She was sitting pretty, so I asked her to join me, and we spent the whole evening just hanging out. Enjoyed each other’s company until we heard that familiar sound. Flashing red and blues- the cops outside have just been sighted (guess they’re mad they weren’t invited), thanks be to the negotiator who tells them that we’re good and sober, tells them lies over and over- sorry sir, we’ll rage quieter til you turn round the corner.
And we were hanging down on happy couch, cause no one even got arrested, nor breathalyzer tested, so we can just keep on shooting that breeze until our faces start to become sore. And after that, maybe I’ll get your number, so tomorrow we’ll talk some more.
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4. |
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I put my life in the hands of a doctor out in Concord, and then a carriage as my parents half consciously sauntered to a wood covered station wagon with a big old dent in the bumper that my Dad put there once he got the call that nine months wasn’t ever gunna come after all- that I was joining the party now and no one had a say in the matter. But sometimes even still, I wish that I was killed by my prenatal anxiety to enter this stupid world, so the existential sorrow it might end before it began, but still I learned how to stand.
I put my life in the hands of a lady named Edie who drove the bus to school, made it look so easy, to hack the toxic vat that we were both nearing. I came to know the terror that I learned awaited, that hurting coercion by five letter grading, but by the end of the day, Edie and I would be hanging. Blasting WAAF and putting those speakers to the test, and how all the others would protest and request a new soundtrack for the ride. She’d turn the big mirror, look them straight in the eye, and say “don’t ask again to change it to 94.5!”
I put my life in the hands of a Wal Mart clerk who sold me my first AC/DC record, who knew the trouble that I’d get into for just ten dollars? I got the hang of the blues in a texas flood, I came to stand the weather by Stevie Ray’s sun, I stood atop a stack of my Momma’s vinyls to feel taller. But I keep tuning out my Dad, when he asks, “man, what’s your backup plan, once your stage lights dim, all your flyers rip, you turn 36, still living out of bag?” and I’m working on an answer, but until then, I hope he likes my songs, and even when they’re sad (which is a lot).
But I see it in his stares. When I talk at him it’s like I’m not even there. But most days, I might agree- I’m elsewhere cooking up my dreams.
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5. |
Twenty One
03:40
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When I met you last week, you meant everything to me, I was dreaming in the backseat, didn’t need anyone but you. And next week you’ll turn 21, the army’s gunna snap you up and run, they’re gunna float you down to Florida, ship you to Chicago, stone sober, you and your fiance both.
Let it be no question, at any second, I could go out of breath if I had to tell someone all the reasons why I’m so grateful you were always there, when no one else was around who cared, you were the only one that came to the hospital when I didn’t think a better world was possible.
You’ve made it easy for me to see that anybody who says they’ve never died inside is positively full of it, with a life so long you’re bound to mess up half the trip, and no happiness is ever out there looking for you, so reaching for it’s all that you can ever truly do.
So if there’s someone who gives you their sun when you can’t find none, and they never ask for nothing in return, my advice would be to keep them close, and not to hold your tears when you’ve gotta let them go.
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6. |
Live This Long
02:57
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I didn’t think I’d need to brush my teeth, til they up and fell right outta me and my collection of cavities from needle pricks for pain to ease. I’ll get dentures by my midlife crisis, gingivitis strong, I never knew I’d have to care, I can’t believe that I’ve lived this long.
I didn’t think to audit my carbohydrate intake, I got adjusted to the sour stomach from the years of trash I ate. I got sluggish blood, now it’s too late, my heart’s been beating wrong, I don’t believe it’s come to this, I never knew that I’d live this long.
I didn’t think I’d have to save my lungs for when I got done being a punk, and so now I cough a ton, whooping sputters aren’t so much fun, but I guess that’s what I get for years of living out of a bong, I didn’t think of growing up, I didn’t think that I’d live that long.
I didn’t think I’d have to save my cash, I thought myself too smart for that. If I went broke, so what, I would just pack my stuff, I’d go back on home and I’d live with my Dad to piss him off for five more years while I bend our brittle bond, I never thought I’d want a roof, I never knew that I’d live this long.
I didn’t think I’d have to treat my friends like I could love them straight on to the end, cause I always thought it would be once they saw my real life, all that strife I was bound up in then. But since I’ve smacked myself I’ve seen the joy my life has drawn, and I finally think I’ve come around, awful glad that I’ve lived this long.
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7. |
Paper, Ink & Patience
03:28
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Wealth inflation, righteous indignation, done unto my friends and their parents all the same. A fickle forecast trusted nonetheless, foregone conclusions are the day to day. No ski mask guarding their complexion, no randomness in their selection. But I’ve got paper, ink and patience, proper time to finally start relating on what’s killing us.
Suffocated spending eliminates investing in anything that keeps the soul awake, the hardened vision listens for the future, the loudest minds all sit and quietly wait to get the news of who’s who, what’s in and what’s out. Anything to keep the people from talking about what’s killing us.
I’m getting worried of what’s gunna happen to my folks, when they can’t work and all their memories start to go. Will they be able to afford their medication or will they suffer underneath administrations who think health is for the rich and sickness for the poor? Begging the question- should we be paying for what’s killing us?
Why keep your faith in what has to ask for it? Why keep their garbage all inside of you. Spit it out, spit it out if it makes you sick, don’t bend, don’t call it an acquired taste. It ain’t enough to question the cooks, to wrinkle your nose or to boycott the stores. You must build your own world and never get tired of digging around for the source of what’s killing us.
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8. |
Living Room
03:17
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Sitting in the living dying and crying all about all the things that I’ll never get to see- a manned mission to saturn and toy story ten and the conversion of earth into speckles of cosmic carbon- the return of our waters to natural depths, the fading of human sorrow and stress. Or, hair growing back on the top of my head, and the eventual forgetting of everything I ever sang...
Sitting in the living room dying and crying all about all the things that I’ll never get to hear- like the new janis joplin or an end to the coughing of us pitiful people trapped in our atmosphere. Or a latent transmission from alien life calling us out for malice and spite, applause from my grandpa, a voicemail from god...
Sitting in the living room dying and crying all about all the things that I’ll never come to know- like why millenial parents don’t vaccinate, and why conservatives and liberals can’t seem to relate on the cause of the pain that wracks our world- why people stay in their shells when they’re pearls, or why God made me flowery but not quite queer, or why Harvey Milk and Mayor Moscone can't be here...
Sitting in the living room dying and crying all about all the things for which I always sing. For the love of my family and my efforts to figure out myself eventually! For the wonder and magic in every cloud, and the restless worms chilling out in the ground who will manipulate my matter once I’ve tired it out- what will free me to God, and how I’m free from all that for now.
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9. |
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Once was night where I sat behind my eyes and I felt around inside for a darker shade of truth. And not just the kind that I feel so much is mine but the type that you can find once you stop losing your cool and you rest in it instead. Try to feel welcome in your own head. Seek to mute the ticking of your clock and quit giving a fuck that it all shuts off.
Once saw myself on a Pennsylvania porch, picking my phone to receive some bitter news from my brother back home- says this veteran we know and we love left his soul and is heading for his tomb. And I hung up and cried in that dawning night, wondering if when he finally died he took one big last breath as if to cough, and said “I don’t give a fuck that it all shuts off”.
Once just for kicks, gave my Nana a lift for a casino trip that I hated every bit of. But I confess, I don’t regret that mess even though she was crude, oh so awfully rude. Since in three short months in she was gone, leaving so much to think on. Echoing question doesn’t stop: did she give too much of a fuck that it all shuts off?
Once had a winter where I found the fuel for a mortal inferno that burnt off my hair as I was counseling kids on the overnight shift, I compared my concerns to their more real affairs and I saw myself to be quite the fool as I chaperoned their boarding school. Put my palm to my face and I thought, "why do I give a fuck that it all shuts off?
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Brian Dickens South Hadley, Massachusetts
www.theplotdickens.com
"an extremely interesting artist"
Telegram &
Gazette
"There’s certainly no shortage of lyrics...Dickens means business"
Pulse Magazine
"for Dickens, it can be easier to sing how he feels rather than speak it." -The Gardner News
... more
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