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Southwestern Bleeds Colors

by Mastiffs of Cambridge

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1.
My Memories are 1s and 0s 04:30
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well I've got two pieces of guitar and when I carve up their insides they will cry a stream of tears of lysergic acid diethylemide taking pictures of the bride for the wedding in july cutting holes out of the eyes it's on the desk while I reply: “yes we've only got 108 likes and no IG but this part where the guitars all run sideways is so OP” I can't remember when I didn't need the internet to see my memories are 1s and 0s brought to life by LEDs it's 2012 again, 538 is 92% sure that Barack is gonna win while I'm enrolled in 16 credit hours a week a double major in faking it and wordpress social commentary by 9PM the screen of my 13” macbook pro will become my enemy the webpage sidebar’s sponsored headlines are killing me oh every night they’re killing me by 10PM the screen of my 13” macbook pro will become my enemy the webpage sidebar’s sponsored headlines are killing me oh every night they’re killing me by 11PM the screen of my 13” macbook pro will become my enemy the webpage sidebar’s sponsored headlines are killing me oh every night they’re killing me by 12AM the screen of my 13” macbook pro will become my enemy the webpage sidebar’s sponsored headlines are surreal and horrifying and fucking killing me
2.
King of Palo Alto 02:37
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take a 40 with you on the Pittsburg line forty times I told you we'll be just fine all this constant barking, I abandon my ears dad's a slave to mom, mom's a slave to wine when I stumble home there will be no cheers if you get in trouble meet me back right here we're the kings and queens of Palo Alto don't you ask again where I'll be next year I've got no complaints I'm a privileged bastard buy me into Stanford, I just gotta ask her major in C.S., join an Asian frat house I don't give a shit, I just wanna pass out aren't these tree-lined streets what you moved here for? look like prison bars from the second floor did you plan your escape out to MIT? tell me how is life on the other shore? if I strain my eyes I can hear the sea birds are cracking jokes and laughing at me I would crack their necks if it was cool to be violent you steel your nerves and I'll steal the keys will you look me up when you've made it out there? if I'm still alive I'll come find you I swear I might die as the king of Palo Alto I wanna never find out
3.
Underground Murder Film Capital 03:29
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father of one, awake but not alive tell me where is your daughter tonight is she lost in the underground murder film capital Ciudad Juarez, Sonora Desert, 1994 he hears her keys in the door at 5 AM joins him for black coffee still wearing her black dress takes out her diary and pens another entry for September the 6th: “I’m getting sick of this shit another killing and shit this guy beheaded this chick they found her corpse in a ditch the cops do nothing about it they’re all complicit and shit i wanted better than this desert is trapping me in gotta get back to Madrid or i’m gonna die in this mess i’m gonna die in this mess i’m gonna die in this mess i’m gonna die in this mess” she comes home early from classes to find her dad is staring out the window at a math textbook he’s hung up on a clothesline she knows he’s losing his mind she hears him talking out loud to nobody in the middle of the night this house is surrounded by ghosts of the girls killed on the road to the factory and this whole town is haunted another 10 dead in august she sees her own face in every picture that they publish the voices tell him to get her across the border somewhere in arizona where she can maybe start over and forget about this horror and forget about her father who will remain behind serving as shepherd for the martyred
4.
Mexico City '73 04:31
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I found them lying on the floor, always whispering and cutting verses out of poetry to make anthologies we were 17 in mexico city in ’73 killing the old gods and drowning in the mezcal scene and i thought that i was an academic til the two of them came in and cut my lecturer to ribbons we barely existed as we drifted to the houses of those literary kids drinking to post-war french fiction and we will not grow old here if you don’t go back to spain and spend the next two decades wandering, wandering, wandering don’t let this city forget your name well we started a movement, we’re gonna fucking make it the kids that we spilled out the ink in our veins with have gotten engaged and make minimum wages well I dearlry miss the endless conversations in the night clubs where we’d tell ourselves we’d never see daylight so we’ll drive up to the north part of sonora near the border to find a lost poet that we aren’t sure ever existed anymore staring blankly through the windshield at the desert as if looking through a door well I see the mixed race miztec children of conquistadors reaching out to grasp the bloody manuscript of latin american literature an etching made in darkness to the gunshots of another dictator well I might die by the pen but I will not die by the sword and I will not forget that first time these two savage dropouts convinced me that the city was ours and that it was not a crime to write poems all day and live fictions all night
5.
Paris is Greyed In 03:50
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and when the four walls of this apartment begin to break and splinter domestic life withers your left bank hipster bullshit is torn into tatters a child has died here you’re done getting drunk here the ghost of your girlfriend still cries in the hall there Paris is faded, the colors are greyed in death makes you jaded death makes you jaded and there’s jazz to listen to with people that talk like you sprawl on the floor with your Bitches Brew and Kind of Blue midnight walks to banks of the Seine flanked by the empty wine bottles of strangers where she jumped in the river this is the longest winter that finds you writing a treatise: “how to lose one to illness and the other to depression” this Parisian obsession is reckless and the city has borders but survivor guilt’s endless there’s days you feel alright about it can do the day to day bits and say there’s nothing to be done about death by an illness all the what ifs are meaningless apartment’s emptiness is maddening so you get all your friends together and you sit in a circle and talk about who won the soccer games then they’re gone and you’re alone again the record ends and you’ve got nothing left to tear your mind away from what her final thoughts might have been freezing cold, terrified, darkness enveloping memories unrememberable and consciousness fleeting that dying in a dream feeling a human words are inadequate type of fear like the worst pain you’ve felt is the width of a hair and her boiling blood while she’s alone down there is the length of the ocean from Buenos Aries to here
6.
God is a Wind Turbine 02:49
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mark me down as did not play: death in family don’t come find me i’ll not be brandishing banners i’m not interested in answers take the scarves off, put the flags down 90 minutes, 0-0 everyone outside is disappeared or frozen that is fine, that’s how i like them it’s fine, it’s how i like them and when the town unfreezes and the plaza fills with people I will sit outside a bar and drink a cana or a beer or two it’s all I really wanna do a game is on, real madrid is playing 4-4-2 and i love to watch while i become the world cup champion of learning not to grieve cause I can handle it i’ll give the eulogy and i will nail it and they’ll see boy that kid’s intelligent he’s great at making as and watching soccer and not talking to his family an endless stream rainbow colored blood runs from my irises to ground along the stones and streets to churches that were built back when Cortez brought gold and riches home The Americas are excellent This continent can never hurt hurt you and driving through Wyoming isn’t lonely if you’re broken too geography is apathetic and god is a wind turbine blowing Spanish through the mountains if you listen you can hear the ghosts of border crossings running from the feds that you can follow them to a village in the desert that will render itself empty if you let it it can all be empty tripping through the colors I can’t name and can’t remember if I saw and will never see again til a blood sacrifice on pyramid my heart is ripped out, held up to the sun and corpse goes tumbling down the stairs
7.
Speak Eastern, Western 04:11
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she was born to die in a future confederation where Emmanuel Macron is fighting Angela Merkel in heaven and through a sepia tone lens she witnesses the similarities between the businesses the bakery pastries, for instance the trains in europe sound different and all the mornings take longer to feel it surrealist grey landscape of December clutching a warm cup of coffee against her and every day her english gets a little better but she can not talk to them, and they will not comprehend her buried in useless nostalgia for nagano and she thinks about snow, and she misses her home will you come back some day? asks one of her relatives deep in her memory childhood ghosts are drowned on the coastline high school friendships fading in the red wine what difference does it make? speak eastern, western, math on a black board passively drifting toward blue-eyed dutch guys just when did the sun start setting in the eastern sky? she said: “I’m not here but I won’t be leaving” internet phone calls losing their meaning what are they saying and why’s this appealing missed another wedding, well maybe next season she tripped acid and she saw what they’ll never see veins bleeding ecstasy can’t discuss it anyway it’s just a watercolor melting in a rainstorm blurring til meaningless carried to the north sea shore
8.
Spanish Portraits 04:14
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take classes take shots alone in your room disappoint yourself cause there’s no one around to be disappointing to psychedelia’s played out replace it with 90s nostalgia well I wasn’t there, and my 2010s are golden age of bullshit flower haired girls on festival grounds who sold out and cut out their hearts and buried them under the hardwood floors of their beautiful midtown apartments she’s still in med school and it means nothing her walls are empty of the Spanish portraits that once watched over her another industry is collapsing she’s finding out that 3.8s on resumes are worthless well I’ve read the books, I’ve read non-fiction history, biography, there’s nothing there that could prepare me for when Palestine’s on fire Saudis killed their own reporter fuck the borders fire up the cloud computers and stream the horror addiction is a disease so don’t get mad at me I’m not the enemy she moved out to Dallas got into local craft breweries “never again” read the posts and still twice monthly there was a killing spree she turned off the notifications and read biochemistry her dad drove to the e.r. and barely survived the alcohol toxicity “withdraw should have killed him,” the doctors informed her so patiently I’m done drinking alone and I’m done taking these calls on the balcony the past is in flames and my sisters are fractured eternally it’s Cortez’s fault or it’s nobody’s fault oh build a fence, build a wall, build a wall her dad’s in Houston somewhere I guess or, he’s back in Mexico poisoning himself again or, he’s floating face down, drowned in the rio grande and she’s taking a stand she is not like him she is not like him
9.
Chinese American 03:32
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Girl in the Yale sweater Why did you come out to contra costa? Was it the warmer than average weather Or cause New Haven's as dry as Sonoma I don't doubt you I'd just like to know about you Was your father a wealthy wall street investor? Takes the train in at quarter to seven Sister's a senior in kappa kappa You weren't about that, preferred marijuana Backpack with frayed straps Headphones on Telegraph What's in your ears? "Trans-era death cab" Sixteen was rough but now you're in sixteen Hours of french literature and art history Protests made headlines and smoke But you didn't go Rather speak on the phone to your folks back at home In Chinese American The west coast is rich with violins But you had to quit cause you were too violent You were a riot Your great grandfather was payed by the mile Lined Vanderbilt's pockets and lined up to die in the desert So who had it better? Girl in the Yale sweater I never saw you in the spring semester I hope that Pascal and pastells weren't too stressful I choose to believe you're abroad a la rive gauche
10.
Golden State 05:17
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what do you do here? and who do you work with? I'm trying to get them to kick me out but it isn't quite working we got Kashmiri glass and some Nepalese shirts when we moved out to Berkeley from Houston while I lectured the class you were lost in the stacks of the East Asian collection did your internship offer? and did you finish your masters? how's the rent up in Richmond? you're your parents disaster can your tiger hat protect you from the ocean? walk across the bay bridge tied to who you think you'll die with they say Outer Sunset's cute kids on macbooks in their bedrooms well that's what I want I guess eat in cafes, San Francisco take a trip up to Astoria afraid there's nothing left here for ya is this new life worth it to ya? have a beer, here kid you've earned it well you've earned it come on then let’s go off to New Zealand Christchurch would be perfect is that what you’re thinking I’d bartend and you’d work in a florist I wish I could tell you that it’s what I wanted Texas burns in flames behind me come and find me we’ll take shots until its dark then wander barefoot through the grass of UC Berkeley when will this all end dear I think that i’ll die here news feeds would be tragic isn’t that romantic? flash back to 2015 in medias res and mis en scene every night I was smoking weed on our couch in front of our house on Ward Street kimiko flew in from Japan and I took her down to Stanford to meet with some professors while I sat up on the roof of my highlander and surveyed the kids on campus wondering if this was the answer the eastern ideal of excellence and 4.5% acceptance rates it’s hard to illustrate the golden state’s effect on me without psychedelic imagery of veins cut open, bleeding colors endlessly and I guess there’s not a better city to walk in drunk at night come up on Corona Heights to see the bay bridge strike the water back to Berkeley’s lights and part of me still sits there upon a rooftop, lost in drunk thoughts awesome sacred views from hillocks repeating mantra, saying hold on to this darkened landscape for a moment longer and hear the ghosts of science grad school whisper to you not to do drugs but to look up at the vast and empty stars above 2010s California pacific dreams can’t be lost and you are not lost cause I have found you here in this song
11.
1973年メキシコシティー 04:31
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床に寝転がっている彼らを見つけた、 (I found them lying on the floor) 詩の一部から新しい歌を作っていた (Cutting verses out of poetry to make anthologies) 僕らは１７さいだった、 (We were 17) ７３年のメキシコシティーだ (In Mexico City in '73) 彼らが教室に飛び込んで来るまで 自分は本物だと思っていた (I thought that I was an academic) When the two of them burst in and cut my lecture to ribbons) 文学仲間の家を点々として あぶくのような日々を過ごした (We barely existed as we drifted between the houses of those literary kids) スペインへ帰らなければ 僕らは年を取らずに済む (And we will not grow old here if you don't go back to Spain) 次の二十年も探し続ける この街に名前を残そう (Spend the next two decades wandering, wandering, don't let this city forget your name) 全てを打ち明けあった彼らは 今じゃつまらない人生を送っているんだ (The kids that we spilled out the ink in our veins with have gotten engaged and make minimum wages) いつまでも語り合った数えきれない夜 恋しく思うんだ　 (Well I dearly miss the endless conversations in the nights when we'd tell ourselves we wouldn't see daylight) さあ行こう北の国境を目指して (So we'll drive up to the north part of the country near the border) 伝説の詩人を探して (To find a lost poet that we aren't sure ever existed anymore) なにもない砂漠の真ん中で 窓の外をぼんやり眺める (While staring blankly through the windshield at the desert) 過去の世界の入り口で (As if looking through a door) 血にまみれたメキシコの文学が 征服者の血をひくこどもの手に渡る (I see the mixed race children of conquistadors reaching out to grasp the bloody manuscript of Mexican literature) 戦争の中で生まれた芸術と ペンと剣術を持って死ぬことはある　 (Well I might die by the pen and the sword and the art forged in the war)　 僕は忘れない (And I will not forget) 野生の探偵がこの街は 僕らのものだと言ったことを (The first time these two savage detectives showed me the city was ours) 詩の世界に生き続けろう (And that we could live in the world of our poems)

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released January 3, 2021

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Mastiffs of Cambridge Poplar Bluff, Missouri

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