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by Looney Buns

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whatsisname It's so addicitive. A compelling collection of alt-rock tunes riddled with post-punk and new wave cues. This is highly entertaining stuff. Favorite track: Quantum Riddles.
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I’ve got a paper heart, I fill it up with rows of my misery charts, (in mathematic pain), (counting them up again), I’ve got a paper heart, I keep it in the stack of rare misfortune cards, (can you collect them all), (you’ve got the wherewithal), I’ve got a cardboard brain, and I can’t figure out why it is always the same, (you know that she would stay), (you make her walk away), I’ve got a cardboard brain, I’ve got something to say, but I won’t call it by name, (this feeling makes you sneeze), (and I know what it is), I’ve got a paper heart, it doesn’t take that much to just tear it apart.
Question are answers, answers are questions, death is a dancer, satan’s kiss, ta ta ta!, dead, dead, dead!, numbers are monsters, monsters are numbers, letters are angels, hard to miss, ta ta ta!, dead, dead, dead!, problems are funny, laugh is a letter, death is a bunny, mailman’s bliss, ta ta ta!
I am buying iStuff, with e-money that I don’t have, and I don’t care, you can’t cover your ears with a baseball hat, but it’s OK, she’s the blind eyed lady of the fat land, she doesn’t care, she’s the blind eyed lady of the fat land, I had a dream, that I didn’t have to have a dream, I was buying smiles, from x-rated girl of the church team, and it’s OK, she was the blind eyed lady of the fat land, she didn’t care, she was the blind eyed lady of the fat land, and there she goes again, the blind eyed lady of the fat land.
I’m running from zombie crowds, who want to slash open my heart, and then bath in my blood, on the spot I’m running from monster gull, who wants to smash down my skull, and then eat out my brain, just like that, there is no easy way to play, I’m hiding from living dead, who want to rip off my head, and play soccer with it, in the rough, running from girls, who look wrong, who want to sing me a song, and then just watch me ears falling off, there is no easy way to play, I’m hiding from freaked-out guy, who wants to pick out my eyes, and then shatter my face with a nail, I’m hiding from bad breath shills, who want to sell me some pills, and then put me some bills in the mail, there is no easy way to fail.
Scary Mary 03:55
Tears of the unshaven spy, from room 4909, turn into thrills, from the untested traps of the unsaid desires, oh, ain’t that scary, you have made them appear, with the tone of your voice, ain’t that cliché, then you’ve wiped them away, with a smile of your choice, oh, Scary Mary, I’ve been losing this game, like a fat dinosaur, gruff, coal black mustache señor, from room 4904, he makes you laugh, with the unsmiling clown at the bear hug vampire, oh, ain’t that funny, you could scare them away, with a slap of your choice, ain’t that cliché, we’ve been fooling again, with the batch of our joys, oh, Scary Mary, I would do it again, for just one slap of yours, sneer from the sad prostitute, from room 4902, makes me feel weird, ‘bout the unspoken names of her happy empire, oh, ain’t that scary, I could talk you around, with a word of her choice, ain’t that cliché, I’ve been playing again, with the batch of her toys, and I’m afraid, I could throw them away, for just one smile of yours, oh, Scary Mary.
Seven nails to scratch the table, sticky tongues to taste the bagel, running low on chewing gum, beyond the fun, beyond the fun, teasing cheers behind the speakers, sleazy tears inside a beaker, aiming high with BB gun, above the one, above the lonely one, putting fingers into grown, and glowing eyes of smarter phones, looking out for sheep to clone, the great pylons, the great pylons, fifty stoves to bake them all, a hundred poles to make a hole, ripping bread apart for fun, it’s only bun, it’s only looney bun, thousand mouths to seal with plaster, million flies to smell disaster, slicing fruits of silicon, the salesman celebration, forty eyes to spray with pepper, seven ties to get the paper, fourteen hands to get it done, it’s just for fun, it’s just for chilling fun.
You turn your x-ray eyes, toward the fractured dragon egg, you set a little fire, within the things that you’ve just said, and it feels those tiny feelings, and it makes you more appealing, behind the looking glass, you keep the secret of your kind, creepy beasts from the past, that are afraid to cross the line, and they make those quiet squealings, and they make you more appealing, the little dragon smiles with fire, the little dragon smiles with fire, you cast your freezing smile, upon the quiet, morning snow, like a star in exile, from a sex horror picture show, and it feels those tiny feelings, and it makes you more appealing, you hide your lizard hands, beneath your plastic flower gloves, enclosing milky lands, concealed by leather coat above, and it makes those quiet squealings, and it makes you more appealing.
Blimps 03:37
Tiny red airships, carry blue bits of my love to you, over dead city, while racing rats fight over the scraps, and I will launch them again and again, and you will look at them fly in the air, and the sun is still exploding, in bubble bath of gamma rays, and outer space goes on expanding, since I have got a crush on you, cellular fusion, will save our hearts from the confusion, nuclear age thrills, carry no joy for a lonely boy, so I will launch them again and again, and you will look at them fly in the air, and the moon is slowly molding, diffusing waves of radiation, the switch is on, the sky is folding, as I send blimps, out in the blue.
Sunny girls destroy the shady space, wearing pretty faces down the city lanes, smiling boys out of the barber shop, are driving up the street in a white bubbletop, and I’m the fox in a shell and now I know, I can only trust my gut, I’m the bear in a can and they are nuts, I only trust my gut, men in black out of big SUV, are shaking sweaty hands indefinitely, liquid crystals from a display pane, transcoding secret waves of a computer brain, I’m a hell of a fox and now I know, I can only trust my gut, I’m the cat in a box and they are dogs, I only trust my gut, global branch of local company, is selling handbooks of world wide conspiracy, pavement strollers choose to pass it by, there is a hidden plan to make them walk in lines, and I’m the fox in a shell...
Bound to the price I’m wearing, tagged by the ultraviolet light, I walk the cemetery, I look the darkness in the eye, I watch it digitize, deep purple nightmare in disguise, I’ve got a dream to carry, down the ultraviolet night, look beyond the beeping wonders, see behind the sleeping skies, hidden by engineering, reversed to the order of the bytes, find the antenna bearing, down the ultraviolet night.
Feed the beast for voodoo priests of fire-sales, mystified by secret side of marketplace, they can get through sticky net of flimsy mind, they will sell the rainbow spell to colorblind, ghosts in the trees laugh when you squeeze, the clock of your heart, which sleeps in the dark, tame your greed and plant the seed of carelessness, in the soil of futile toil to clean this mess, it can grow out of your toe in moonlight glow, it can climb, like poison vine, the lunar bow, birds in the bush laugh when you push, the gears of your mind, which sleeps on the grind, wipe the sun out of the plan to clear the skies, follow those who can dispose the merchandise, where the ghosts are scorching toasts of bargain souls, who scream in pain to whisper rain and pay the toll, ghosts in the trees...
Birds of Armagideon, disperse the notes of mating songs, people follow the radio, they dance when there’s no place to go, lords of taciturnity, unfold the holy recipe, dancers follow them quietly, they hold their tongues behind the teeth, infamous crows of merry novelty, land gracefully, at the site of waste disposal, worms of Pandemonium, conform to ways of dime store slum, filling the shelves with merriment, they prey on disobedient.
Fireworks 03:00
Strange medications traveling the constellation of our fluid ducts, hold on to this sensation, while we are sitting ducks, frozen with the lights on, in the back of a Cadillac, I’ll let you pick a feeling from the catalog, scary transmissions obscuring my intuition, we’re walking in the park, the moon is on the mission and we are in the dark, staring at the light bulbs, on the edge of the parking lot, sleeping in the violent silence, let’s light fireworks, poisonous flowers from the top of the business tower emit a sour smell, let’s wait for the midnight hour, to ring the fire bell, looking with the lights on for the big rainbow juggernaut, I’ll let you pick the color, let’s light fireworks.
Quantum riddles of your fuzzy feelings, shroud my body and cloud my mind from seeing, beyond the things that matter, behind the matter that I can see, entangled waveforms of your twisted neural structure, destabilize my little private space time fracture, beyond the things that can happen, behind the shape of what can be, subsonic echoes of your heart implosions, deform the pattern of my cardiac equations, behind a smile I am scattered, beyond the things that I can feel.


It's the dish of 14 sour-sweet songs in a strange sauce, submerged in eclectic clash of sounds, where laid back post-adult pop struggles with quirky, chilli bubbles of electronic magma.


released August 10, 2013


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