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Dr. Des Moines

by Skyscape

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about

It's a Skyscape album. It's weird. You'll enjoy it.

credits

released July 7, 2016

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about

Skyscape Brooklyn, New York

Skyscape was formed long ago by Jed Davis and Dom Maltempi. Lots of people joined the band. Some quit; most were fired. Skyscape continues.

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Track Name: Swerve Griffin Moods
If you have to fly to Alexandria tonight
For a conference on King Bickwamhocsnoozer
I tell you don't go

You will be
Fellated with bombast!
Suborning your best friend!
You will face
Canceled subscriptions!
Sit-downs and sit-ins!
Gargamel's kitchen sink of stunts!
Fellated with bombast!

You will white out!
You will black out!

There will be
Flat-waxed odium!
You will never go back to
Work for Swerve Griffin!
Sit-downs and sit-ins!

Oh the interview beasts off the clock
Won't remember your bloated visage
Your dry addictions
The mock black turtleneck itching
A mythical bird back to stone
We need you home

You will white out!
You will black out!

There will be
Flat-waxed odium!
You will never go back to
Work for Swerve Griffin!
Sit-downs and sit-ins!

Oh the interview beasts off the clock
Won't remember your bloated visage
Your dry addictions
The mock black turtleneck itching
A mythical bird back to stone
We need you home
We need you home
We need you home
Track Name: It Tastes Like Chicken
It tastes like chicken
Oh, I like chicken

Well, I can contend
That it tastes like chicken to me
But my buddies all pretend
That this life’s artificial meat
Is it bread?
Is it life?
Is it plain or full of spice?

It tastes like chicken
Oh, I like

We all live under one big sun
Each day we all rise to greet it
Everybody picks his or her nose
Some people even eat it
Everybody farts sometimes, my friends
Everybody belches
And everybody’s shit smells just as bad
As everybody else’s

Well, it tastes like chicken to me
On a Tuesday sour sweet
Are there hidden innuendos in the KFC?
Now my head
Is extra crispy
But your extra-crispy politics
Are too right-wing for me

I’d like to teach the world to think
In perfect harmony
I’d like to buy the world a clue
’Cause who knows more than me?

It tastes like chicken
Oh, I
Oh, I
Oh, I love chicken
Track Name: On Chew Blanket
Cheers for the victual starvelings
Maybe their bones, they can’t touch
Yeasterday’s cakes growing hungry (artist)
I need my bones to cooperate
I’m sick up to here with this dim white breast
I’m glutted to here
Keep you in the office late
And Pip says the sharks could be angels
And river of hors d’oeuvres to plate you (hello)
And Pip says the sharks could be angels
And maybe the shark is a lunch break
And someone is stealing my lunch break baskets
And someone is stealing my lunch break Ricky Martin towels

On chew blanket
On chew blanket
Nibble nibble nibble nibble on chew blanket
Nibble nibble nibble nibble on chew thankless
Nibble nibble nibble that someone is stealing your lunch break
Someone is stealing your lunch break
When someone is clocking you out
Take two for
Ammunition falling from the roof

Ignoring the busy and porous plate
They pass you along like a jaunty cap
And making me feel like a Lazarus act
Controversy, convenience and corresponding flaps
Flexible, fluorescent and flooring to the max
And someone is stealing my silver-wrapped sandwich
And someone is taking the very last bit of my lunch break
Someone is stealing my lunch break (ours)
Someone is stealing my lunch break
Someone is stealing my lunch break
Someone is

On chew blanket
Or is it on chew blanket
Or is it off chew blank dog
On chew blank form
Track Name: Mare Spumans
Playing bachelor on an oxbow jetty
No need to pine to repine
For a daytombed night
No need to rewind it, I'm ready
A quickening, unfleshing
Irreversible aligning
A summer-stuffed spring
Ripe for the threshing

For love may be a scaffold for buildings in transit
A sheath for the waiting
Never stripped for the conquest

To wear short swords, not top hats
At weddings - my own, in fact
Infused, infused to an Irish girl
For life, for life, and what's after that

Playing possum in a trunk in Tuxedo, New York
Acting like a jackass
Hoping she'd stay the course
Guzzling pints of the darkest pleasure on earth
With her one-eyed cousin in control of the spigots
Nothing's revealed, you can only barely keep with it

For love may be a scaffold for buildings in transit
A sheath for the waiting
Never stripped for the conquest

To wear short swords, not top hats
At weddings - my own, in fact
Infused, infused to an Irish girl
For life, for life, and what's after that

I'm staring at the Omni
The voyagers inside me
See the green light through
The great enough foaming sea

For love may be a scaffold for buildings in transit
A sheath for the waiting
Never stripped for the conquest

To wear short swords, not top hats
At weddings - my own, in fact
Infused, infused to an Irish girl
For life, for life, and what's after that
Track Name: East Texas Love Affair
Put the oil cans where suns don’t shine
I’m leaving all of her behind
She’s got girth!
And spurs
To vent
Swallows Borax for penance

Forgive me, my rickets lady
Fresh fruit floats in the Gulf
While you vomit in the pantry

I’m through!
East Texas love affair

I moved out
Arias for timid rattlers
‘Post this’ dim wit theorizers
In the post-post too-cool bubba
Concentrate on gravy dropping black magic in my hopper
I crush you
And you’re nothing but a liquid
I’m living through
I am past living through

I’m through!
East Texas love affair

Eating breakfast with Terri Schiavo
In space!

I need to consult
The wandering pigeon
Who will receive the host
From the dolled-up pensioner
Possum craft, and fawning sods
Concentrate on droll assaults
Possum craft, and fawning sops

Dear Nomad was a column I never read
Too busy washing Debra’s clothes
Broken bras and soiled hose
Who am I kidding, guys?
Track Name: Last Word/Headism
At smoky dusk I watch
The black-and-white TV
From the vinyl deck chair
I swore I would never sit in again
And everything’s the same
’Til someone thinks your name

And we all look up
And we shudder deep
And we take our inventories
So that we can get to sleep
I see the things that I did
I hear the things that I said
I split the difference between history
And the mess in my head

A Kodacolor us
By a faithully-kept bed
In a room that once was mine
In a house that once was yours
A home that once was ours
Please I want it back now

And this quiet space
That we echo through
Is like a heart that’s pumping nothing
Now that it’s lost you
And the front porch may be calm and still
Like nothing had occurred
But that angry slam will always stand
As our last word

And we all look up
And we shudder deep
And we take our inventories
So that we can get to sleep
I see the things that I did
I hear the things that I said
I split the difference between history
And the mess in my head

This part was true
A sequel overdue
A happiness you rue
When that part disrobed
On the lawn, on the lawn
On the rosemary lawn
The stupid fucking lawn
That a dog pissed on
Bought your virginity back on Ebay
Frightened and excited by your World War III negligee
I want to be a dentist
Not a toy apprentice
Why am I such a misfit?
I am not a nitwit
I can’t handle it, I quit!
I can’t handle it, I quit
Track Name: I'm Too Sexy
I’m too sexy for the bass
Too sexy for 15th Century pottery
I’m too sexy for my brains
Too sexy for my eyelids
Even when they’re surgically removed

I’m a giraffe
You know what I mean
And I’m the tallest animal in the Bronx Zoo
In the Bronx Zoo
Don’t you know what I mean
You can feed all the pigs in the Bronx Zoo

I’m too sexy for this world
Too sexy for the athletes
The way they’re throwing footballs
And I’m too sexy for the men
Who are walking in the street
Collecting rubbish

I’m a lesbian
You know what I mean
And I like to do my thing in the bedroom
In the bedroom
With a girl named Juanita
I do all my things in the bedroom
I’m sexy

I’m too sexy for the grass
Too sexy for the lawnmower
Too sexy when the lawnmower cuts the grass
And I’m too sexy for myself
I can’t even fucking take it
I’m going crazy!

I am a model
And I like to be naked in the backyard
So Mrs. Peavers
From next door
Can have a heart attack
And send me the check

Yeah
I’m a sexy boy
Yeah
I’m too sexy for this goddamn song
Track Name: Poetry Read-In At Bob's
Slick wine and a blue beret
Twenty-degree moustache
Long and gray
It’s time to cane the doffing fop!

Cursing lights
Snapping fingers
Jazzy pest
And an odor lingers
Of crippling cologne
And addicting nicotine

Everyone is in a warped state of mind
Mine’s in New York
That girl’s is somewhere in the Carolines

Peaceful poets
Starving artists
Classy waiter with pinstriped jackets
His name was Luck
And he never gambled a day
Well I don’t get that
I guess that’s pretty strange
How strange is it?
How strange is it?
That’s pretty strange!

Intermissions
Stirring liquor
Cup of coffee was left widowed
As I finished the last sip

Walking basslines
Long-legged rabbits
Sparkly dress on a cocaine addict
These were the things that shove me along

A verse warned not to look in the mirror
When your northern sphere is getting deeper
I just smiled and finished my wine, kids

Bob?
Yes?
Bob?
What?
The next poet is a man they call Mr. Shine, from Fargo, North Dakota. Mr. Shine, what have you got to say?
Well, kids, when I bite into a York Peppermint Patty, I don’t feel anything at all. I don’t feel anything. As a matter of fact, it does less for me than when
I don’t eat anything. Fuck you all, I love you.
Track Name: Check Plus Plus Fail
That picture of you playing possum on a Datsun or a Comet
In your mother's gorgeous homespun dress she never fades
You fully flaunt your father's strongest habits
Smoking Navy Cuts and chronic
On a rooftop
In a future
From the city of Nairobi

Perfectly dressed and plenty lonely
As a thoughtless microbe in thrall to nobody
As a waxed corpse dandy dabbing you expertly
With liberty
On the apple of a cheek

Go stalking while the efflorescence has overscrewed its flowering
You're a pliable courtier, confidence man, warrior
On your mega-sally through a scuzzy mood
Disappointment stalks your sock drawer
But there are also
Memento mori
That keeps you immune from a blues

Perfectly dressed and plenty lonely
As a thoughtless microbe in thrall to nobody
As a waxed corpse dandy dabbing you expertly
With liberty
On the apple of a cheek

And you haven't got a check plus medicine
In that wonder bag of mysterious itinerants
With your long 18th Century party vest
(Exploding in bad taste)
You'd bomb your own house just to pretend to smithereen those snakes

That picture of you playing possum on a Datsun or a Comet
In your mother's gorgeous homespun dress she never fades
You fully flaunt your father's strongest habits
Smoking Navy Cuts and chronic
On a rooftop
In a future
From the city of Nairobi

Perfectly dressed and plenty lonely
As a thoughtless microbe in thrall to nobody
As a waxed corpse dandy dabbing you expertly
With liberty
On the apple of a
Perfectly dressed and plenty lonely
As a thoughtless microbe in thrall to nobody
As a waxed corpse dandy dabbing you expertly
With liberty
On the apple of a cheek
On the apple of a cheek
On the apple of a cheek
Track Name: Phatic Radjic
Swallow your companion
And form a dusty disc
No one cares for this hot bastard
We observed its violent fits
Red giant, red giant
God boasts you’re the rings on his fists
Getting phatic
Shrinking phatic
In a room of painfully self-aware hypocrites

You can take me down but you can’t bring me down
You can knock me down but you can’t bring me down
You can hold me down but you can’t bring me down

I met a tugboat wastrel in irons
Cursing off the captain’s arms
Pockmarked son of a bitch
Commissioning a portrait
Don’t draw my eyes so wide, so gray
Don’t draw my eyes so wide, so gray
Squalor Mouthbutton, our loyal aide
Rots with the other men

You can take me down but you can’t bring me down
You can knock me down but you can’t bring me down
You can hold me down but you can’t bring me down

Wherever you are
There’s a place where the rain ain’t far
So it won’t be too late

You can take me down but you can’t bring me down
You can knock me down but you can’t bring me down
You can hold me down but you can’t bring me down

Eating breakfast with Terri Schiavo
Eating breakfast with Terri Schiavo
Eating breakfast with Terri Schiavo
In space
In space