Our Existence As Floating Dots Of Color (Songs That Contradict, Confused)

by Andrew Winzenburg

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released June 28, 2011




Andrew Winzenburg Mankato, Minnesota

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Track Name: 4 Days Deep (And Life Becomes Love)
There are joys in this world of changing colors, a painting ever changing in the wind. You begin to feel the world all around you, and suddenly life becomes love.
Track Name: Fall Into Forever (Everywhere And Always)
Lay there, contentment. Closed eyes and assured smirk, whole, one, complete, as you fall into forever. Find yourself, young one. Know yourself or you will be part, half, unfinished, as you fall into everywhere and always.
Track Name: Neighborhood Basements (Fragmented Breath)
Polkadotted friend, it's so nice to see you again. Show me how to feel inside. Show me all the things I hide. Begin the game of smiles, our feet chilled on the tile. Your heart scarred dog is running amuck. How it foreshadows the turning of your luck. A life on hold. Your freedom torn, but I see how you keep strong, refuse to mourn. Clutch your 50 hearts. Make due with an early start. Remind me how my chest is a cage, composed of sickly pink and beige. Questions I can't touch, how the feelings are too much. Professional blue dissipates. Warm reds help further seal my fate. A piercing orange leaves me confused. How I could care less that I was being used.
Track Name: X (Who Are You To Judge The Unknown?)
Who are you to judge the unknown?
Track Name: Jetplanes And Mexico
Sand is never quite comfortable. I guess that the parts can't make the whole, so I'll crash into the waves that roll into the shore. Please keep this behind the locked door. This tribal dance is just a bit too strange. How odd we all feel when suddenly we change, and we become only shells of our former selves when we dig our former selves out of our shelves. So I hope that your head isn't too fucked. I guess that I'm the one with all the luck, because I hear suburban real estate is all the rage these days. Damages done in your violent craze. Your disgust kept inside a plastic bag. The fire of the vine has left its tag, and the rabbits in the wardrobe have the problems that they should. Scarred memories of chairs that are cursed not to feel good. In time, I'll accept that I am me, whoever that could be. Polka dots led me to bliss. I guess that's what I had missed. So I hope your mind is still. Void the thoughts that make you ill, and the things we've kept inside, and all those that you've denied.
Track Name: XI
Whoa. Ha. Oo.
Track Name: Glazed Whites Engulfing Red Lines (The Taste Of Antacids)
The whole world is spinning, moving slow. Why did I put myself here? I don't know. I need to find some place to hide. O please, don't look at my eyes. They're flying saucers, green and blue, jealous and apathetic, too. They tell stories about the freezing cold, the vomit, and the stench of growing mold. Why is it that you keep coming back? Discipline keeps slipping through the cracks. I need to get away from this place. O please, don't look at my face. It's filled with pin-prick stubble, unideal, doesn't quite show how I feel. Perpetually frowning, mostly unclean, it misrepresents the idea of me. Holding on to what you used to feel, sometimes it's hard to tell what is truly real. The truth is I don't know. Someday, you're going to have to let go of all the souls blown out in clouds of smoke, the memories that used to make you choke, the lost locations you will miss, and the foreign things that fuel your pseudo-bliss. What's this window doing here? All things in view, they seem to disappear. I've never seen that window before. O why is my bed floating off the floor? I see nothing but my feelings, they're blooming from the ceiling, and my world is only static noise devoid of sadness, angers, fears, and joys. A face is only just a face, a group of seemingly misplaced sensory organs. Strange to see how similar you are to me, and on your head a strange growth of thin and tangled strings and rope of different color, different hue. How similar I am to you. I'm looking at my tums again, they never seem to work when they're up against what I've pitted them with. I guess everything's not a myth. How strange that you all seem so nice when you're clearly sculpted out of ice. I guess it's never quite easy to tell what is true when the truth isn't any more.
Track Name: Mondays (O My Fuck!!! How Did I Used To Be Again!??)
A spectrum of colors through a world made of glass, as my life sings soft on a stereo. I hope this is easy. It was Christmas all night, I guess. I find it funny when I undress. Cliffs become my worst enemy. My legs are unending. I hope to find myself anew instead of living inside you. What memories to make when they're not there? Two notches and A's mark my something missing life. The spirals in the dark, how they intertwine. The world is around me, yet I hold it all inside. The world all around me, beautiful, and yet I hide.
Track Name: You And Your New Lazer Eyes (People Here People There)
Sometimes I am scared to death. Sometimes I feel in my head. Sometimes it burns my flesh, and the wound are always fresh because of you and your new lazer eyes. Sometimes I don't look at your face. Sometimes I just need my space. I can feel it in my head. I just want to stay in bed because of you and your new lazer eyes.