Act I

by StageFright

Act I cover art
/
1.
02:10
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2.
02:25
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3.
01:51
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4.
01:01
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5.
02:52
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about

additional artwork included in download folder.

thanks for listening :)

credits

released 19 November 2011
StageFright is:
Tony A - drums
J - vocals
Keri - bass
Pete - guitar

recorded and mixed by Alec from Shot Not
additional recording by Pete
cover art by Aubrey
additional art by J
album introduction by Dr. Drew

tags

tags: punk awkward hardcore punk hardlycore long island punk punk rock New York

license

all rights reserved

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Track Name: Hatesick
Neon souls stirring in the night,
attracting all the parasites
who feed on everything they offer.
Believing that it is their culture,
full heads of air and leather skin
find comfort in UV coffins.
Shallow minds in fear of deep thought,
sinking in everything they’ve been taught
You buy into their lies,
you pile into their aisles,
you empty your pockets in their lines
and it’s their pockets that you line.
You "pledge allegiance to the flag
...and justice for all (who aren’t ‘fags’)"
and worry about minorities,
swallow the seed of moral majority.
The soundtrack to your late night
drive home’s brought to you by
those telling you to drink responsibly,
but you can’t even think responsibly,
so you drive your car, "it’s not very far,"
ignore the lines, ignore the lights
take the life of an innocent one,
come out of it - no damage done.
A people not worth the destruction;
for construction, for consumption
vinyl reflections have been affixed -
this is your lord, your crucifix.
Enveloped in a white picket fence,
polyester stamps that represent
a nation built on exploitation
Nausea County, Suffolkation
Wrong Island
Track Name: The Friends Don't Always Justify The Means
Why’d I ever feel the need
to shelve my ideals and my beliefs
for company so undeserving,
leeches who were so unnerving?
Puppets hanging by a thread,
vacant eyes and sunken heads,
tightwalking the social ledge,
always keeping me on edge.
On the corner of Cross Road and Memory Lane,
friends who left as soon as they came.
Familiar faces, forgotten names,
now just ghosts to those they betrayed
With another day, comes another end
Another farewell to another friend
What was it that I was thinking staying
aboard this friendship while it was sinking?
Time has come to abandon ship,
it can’t take another hit.
I’d rather drown in my own terms
than try to survive hanging on to yours.
On the corner of Cross Road and Memory Lane,
wondering which one of us is to blame,
which one doused the flickering flame,
and caused everything we had to fade.
Now I constantly wonder why
I ever felt it was alright
to compromise, sympathize,
justify, and rationalize
their bigotry, misogyny
as failed attempts at comedy,
knowing full well it was clearly
their macho insecurity
On the corner of Cross Road and Memory Lane,
I'm desperately hoping for some change,
awaiting the arrival of the rain
to come and wash away all of the shame.
With another day, comes another end
Another farewell to another friend
What was it that I was thinking staying
aboard this friendship while it was sinking?
Time has come to abandon ship,
It can’t take another hit.
I’d rather drown in my own terms
than try to survive hanging on to yours.
On the corner of Cross Road and Memory Lane,
showing nothing but disdain.
I stayed ‘til the bitter end
and I remain the bitter friend.
Track Name: Everyday Is Like Monday
"Come on in where nightmares are the best part of my day."
Apathy sits in my veins,
mind breaks down - rummage the remains.
Everyday’s the same.
The strength to look ahead
can’t be found, I stay in bed.
Down on my luck,
can’t turn it around, don’t give a fuck.
Fighting battles I can’t win.
Rotting out from within.
Reflect on mistakes past -
thankful that nothing ever lasts.
Everyday’s this way.
The grey invades my room,
time winds down - impending doom
"Armageddon - Come, Armageddon!
Come Armageddon! Come!"
The future’s bright, but my eyes are shut.
Track Name: Word Attack (Adolescents cover)
originally by The Adolescents.
Track Name: Dawn Of The Debt
Corpses crawl out of coffins, the living dead living in debt
to monetary monasteries: consciously mobile currency
they depend on the latest trend, and exist only to spend their lives
feeding to feel fulfilled, but the more they have, the hungrier they get.
They will reap what the others sow, and they will weep if they don’t
own what they’ve been shown - all they’ve ever known. The pain and the hunger grow
as patience decreases, and the crowd increases, becoming scattered pieces.
The only line found: drawn in the sand of a shattered hourglass.
Bodies buried beneath bargains, products purchased for a steal
that cost a life, that caused a death, and the caustic cries from the floor
an exercise in futility when experiencing a feeding frenzy.
"Unseen, unheard?" Obscene, absurd! A door unhinged by the undead.
Rain reduces the wretched to faint, fading flames finding fear
inevitable extinguishing; inanimate incandescents
realized, now sentient, search for shelter to shield themselves
from torrential storms, potential’s born, credential loss of the norm.