1. |
Sissy
02:19
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Pick up your feet, pick up your feet;
Dust in the mouth is never good to eat.
I let slip, make the rays get rest, and wreck cars without intellect.
While selecting interests I am fried at best.
I back down.
I am fried at best.
Because the word is that my allegiances are to weeds and deep reds
and the hostage is the bug on the wall.
I'll send them creeks devoid of beds.
I found a way to look up what you heard your hens clucking.
Your daddy's in business that's only corrupt.
Is a cure that contains naked answering clearly the reason what's human is all that remains in this wreck?
Pick up your feet, pick up your feet;
Dust in the mouth is never good to eat.
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2. |
Faulty Decisions
05:01
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Twitching on his watchtower overlooking the entire dirty forest he recalls the words that sweaty wizard listed off to him: “Slaves run away, masters return.”
If only he could have remembered the names, but he didn't.
So now he gets up and looks his own tattered hair-like moss grown down to the floor.
Here emerges the same scarred beetle that conversed with them the previous night.
Afraid of what is about to occur, he calmly collects himself and counts off their few available options.
Head off to the city and recapture the escaped.
Cut off his moss and get a new name.
Quesitont he relativity of this beetle
Jump!
Meanwhile our mainland visitors had carved their marks into the stone.
And while the wizard counted candle-marks the days found growing old a task too tight a squeeze to pull off.
Every following descent had placed protaganistic marks among the mundane ranks of men.
Having picked the altogether most dangerous option of what to do next, they calmly collect themselves again, scraping the morning-dew-like tar off their tweed jacket.
Hoping to retain what few supernatural powers they had acquired, they walk the pass through the mountains.
Thinking they've taken great care of this land over the past few weeks, warding off various outsiders.
In fact, they're sure as heck they could have warded off an entire army of wolves.
At least that's what...at least that's what they think.
But they're lining the route just now and he's falling for their trap.
Leaving for a self revenge?
His land left armless.
Alone on the lit-up road to living,
just letting the demon trail behind.
A lich with a knack for finding beauty,
his body intact as a crumbling statue.
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3. |
Wrinkling
04:45
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All red walls take me to the tallest tales.
A sword in the rock and roll.
I'd follow.
Sit me in that empty chair.
A portal to mortal peril.
And the tiger movie was left playing
and every sheet wrinkled smiling.
Avec humer, I'm growling.
With eyebrows raised you cast a hex on no one knowing
what it could do.
What it could do.
For the rest I'd wind the reel to rig this right.
Put out your palm and I'll scribble on it
and reroute the wrinkles towards our time.
Why idle in a stone never to be rolling back home?
All red walls take me to the tallest tales.
A sword in the rock and roll.
I'd follow.
Sit me in that empty chair.
A portal to mortal peril.
A sword in the rock and roll.
A portal to mortal peril.
And the tiger movie was left playing
and every sheet wrinkled smiling.
Avec humer, I'm growling.
With eyebrows raised you cast a hex on no one knowing
what it could do.
What it could do.
For the rest I'd wind the reel to rig this right.
Put out your palm and I'll scribble on it
and reroute the wrinkles towards our time.
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4. |
The Babe of Wolves
05:27
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Oh, what a wild situation was today.
I waited eons by the big-city-bound train
and sitting pondering while I whistled patiently
some wolves from nowhere gathered gangs and I split the scene.
And one could say I've been a coward at this point.
Though, I'd have made my choice said I let's split this joint.
And although relatively unaccompanied the skeleton of my own daddy chased round me.
And this is what they spoke:
“Oh child, don't run.
You should spare them for a sunny day.
Neglect these ones.
They haven't yet learned of the land you belong.”
“You belong with all the kings.
The babe of wolves you'll be.”
Woa! Father, what's this bother?
When did you plan on spilling the beans?
“Kid, I think it's time that you...
you learned to kill it too...
the kingdom clandestine of wolves, and you will rule!”
No! Hold on, wait up!
Now what the heck is going down?
I'm tripping out.
Could this be fact?
Can I believe?
And when I freak about it,
I do recall some fighting
when I was barely child.
But then again it's been a minute.
Now that I'm 27, and dodged morose bloodletting,
was it my pop was hiding?
Was his just feigning dying?
Ooh wah-o-wah ooh.
wah-o-wah ooh.
wah-o-wah oo-ooh.
And one could say I was a coward at this point.
Though, I'd have made my choice said I let's split this joint.
And although relatively unaccompanied the skeleton of my own daddy chased round me.
And this is what I said:
“I'll tip my cap
and I'll deny this pack the dinner they planned.
I'll knock them flat
and they'll know who they've crossed and where they belong.”
We are the ghosts of your past
sent back to straighten your act.
Do you believe in fate, little one?
Do you sleep when the day is done?
How do you deal in an ordinary world
when the saints are a pain and the flags are unfurled?
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Secret Cat Santa Rosa, California
Secret cat was a project that ran from 2006-2016. Our shows were a frenzy, and our friends & fans made it so so so fun. We’ve morphed into Hose Rips, and also split off into solo projects.
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