1. |
Canvas
02:41
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First we must erase
To paint a pretty face
Create a canvas that’s raw
Lay on a neutral base
Delete any trace
Of imperfection or flaw
We are living dolls
Although our beauty’s false
Confused and awkward and odd
Crawling with dread and fear
A frailty so severe
You’ll find cracks in our facade
Ladies and gentlemen
Masculine or femme
And everything in between
Dare you to tell us why
What lies between our thighs
Has any relevancy
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2. |
What You Want To See
03:36
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You don’t even show me
Who even do I see
This standing before me
I can’t even take myself seriously
Out there on the sidewalk
With the constant unwanted side-gawk
And the crass insidious fast talk
I don’t even feel like a person at all
You don’t even care
You don’t even know
You don’t even see
You just want me to turn you on
I look at my shoulders
I poke at my cheekbones
I practice making the faces
Every photographer says that they want
I am just a framework
I am just a sketch in your head
I am arms and legs
I show you just what you want to see
And I’ll just be me, fuck your gaze
And I’ll just be me, fuck your gaze
And I’ll just be me, fuck your gaze
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3. |
Pose (Fugue)
02:40
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Pose
To see him face to face
Hate and love
Pose
He is ready now
Manifest
Don't touch me
Pose
Find the light
Pose
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4. |
One Hit Wonder
03:53
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What was once a rising star has found itself afloat
Anticipated sophomore show from house Quilombo
Disappointing bloat
Since a very well received debut
The expectation for the next collection grew
You’ll read how his ambition has exceeded his ability
(the offering was sorely lacking)
In this review
Silvio Quilombo was a young beginner
He was an exception, a stunning first collection
One hit wonder
Disorganization and delusion plagued the scene
Clearly the designer was stretched thin
In time and creativity
The lights tripped twice, the air was sour, the speakers droned
The crowd had turned against him in unease
The models were an incohesive, churlish coterie
A combination of the spoiled and the green
Formerly exalted, now an also-ran
Muddy-headed visions, terrible decisions
Flash in the pan
Shapeless thick and gaudy frilly corrugated sad and faded
Uncreative floppy slack unshapely drooping sloppy grouping
Mediocre underwhelming tiresome blocky vain and cocky
Referential stale chaotic awkward fussy idiotic
Inconsistent grubby blighted foolhardy and so misguided
Most exasperating was his utter lack of shame
When the great designer finally emerged to strut upon the stage
The tragedy of arrogance, the failed event
An unrelenting omen of dismay
Droves escaped as, flashbulbs popping, models toppling
Maestro stood there waiting for a grand ovation that never came
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5. |
Glance
03:22
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If you glance away for just one moment
Watch your dreams roll out of sight
And your hands will fill with dusty longing
Pins and needles, knuckles white
You’ll be dressed for failure every morning
In a shabby silhouette
And your work will lack with a distinction
Everyone will soon forget
You’ll be chasing your fortune under blindfold
Tracing old designs by fingertip
And you’ll lie awake at night for hours
Stuck aboard an ego trip
You’ll be scared to break any rules or boundaries
So you’ll play it safe and you won’t rebel
And you’ll fade away into the backdrop
Out of style, you’ll lose yourself
And they won’t remember who you are
Maestro, on your knees, you-know-who is here
Do you think that she is a threat?
Can’t be really sure you can pull this off, thoughts so insecure
Makes you sweat
Did you feel on trend, back on top again, you’re a joke to them
Get a grip
How’d you get this far, need to raise the bar
Was your shooting star just a blip?
You seem old and tired, clothes so uninspired, you should be retired
You’re a shell
Maestro, we resent time that’s been misspent
You’ve misrepresented yourself
What do you think you know?
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6. |
I'll Go On
04:30
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Obviously this bitch is really not going to show
Somebody’s got to wear this covergirl trousseau
Pretty sure this will fit me and I’m the only one
Thank fucking god with those three we’d never get anything done
And oh, I’ll go
I’ll go on, I’ll go on
I’ll go on, I’ll go on
Babysit the models
Keep the Maestro sharp
Do I even get a moment to ever let down my guard?
Well no, I don’t
All of these motherfuckers up in my shit all day
Juggling every jackass, keeping the wolves at bay
But so it goes and
I’ll go on, I’ll go on
I’ll go on, I’ll go on
We haven’t got time to argue this is going down
The asshole on the runway is taking out your gown
And oh, I’ll fucking glow
Get out of my way you douchebags I’m going to light it up
When they check out this collection they’re gonna fall in love
Lo and behold
A standing O
Silvio
We’ll go on
We’ll go on
We’ll go on
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7. |
The Kindest Cut
03:02
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It’s funny how we made us
Chained us, forbade us
Raised us, enslaved us
Tempered into stone
We struggle to remember
All we surrender
Righteous defender
Tender to the bone
It’s funny how we saved us
Measured and weighed us
Pinned us and framed us
Up against the wall
We’ll always be comparing
What we are wearing
Fiercely unsparing
The kindest cut of all
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Steven Bolinger San Francisco, California
Steven Bolinger
is an independent multi-instrumentalist and composer steeped in rock 'n' roll culture living in San
Francisco, CA.
He has a penchant for The Metal™, progressive rock and electronica/dance music, and on occasion, a good melody.
He is lyrically challenged and not a musical theater person (though many of his friends are).
... more
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