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file_downloadperformance:jason harvey: bass guitar
dennis harvey: keyboards
composition/production:jason harvey: composition
dennis harvey: composition | mastering | mixing | production | recording
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file_downloadperformance:jason harvey: bass guitar
michael ambro: guitar
paul ambro: guitar
dennis harvey: keyboards | noises | voice
composition/production:michael ambro: composition
paul ambro: composition
jason harvey: composition
dennis harvey: composition | mastering | mixing | production | recording
notes:... What else is there to say, now that a time-based story has run out of time? I remember the concept of time, but I don't feel it here. I remember having a physical form, but I don't have it here. It's an eternal struggle, almost what it used to feel like to have conflicted thoughts back on Earth, or Middle-Earth, or whatever you want to call the physical plane. It's an eternal vigil, something as natural as thinking, or as unnatural as making yourself not think. That's what the battle feels like, trapped here in this extradimensional bubble of pwn and/or fail. It's never going to end, there's no concept of ending here, unless somehow I can make contact again with the physical plane and leave Sauron here. I don't even know if it's possible. But that's why I'm sending out this message. Whatever hold I have over the chalupa vortex, it still must be some kind of portal back to the reality I knew, and through it, I'm sending this message. I've been sending it forever, and it will continue forever, a version of my story that some sentient being in the physical plane could interpret. ...
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i wake up at 10:00
and come home tired and hungry
around noon
did you think i wouldn't give a fuck
about the sideways jabs at my career
no i don't think so
i don't think so
don't think so
vine vide vice
look it's a job
and do i need a constant reminder
of how much better you are
no i don't think so
i don't think so
don't think so
i feel sick as a pike
i feel sick as hell
don't touch me there
oh god not again
no i don't need your help
please just pretend i'm not here
go about your business
i feel fine
i feel fine
i feel fineperformance:dennis harvey: all instruments | voice
composition/production:dennis harvey: composition | lyrics | mastering | mixing | production | recording
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file_downloadFUCK TRUMP AND HER NEO-NAZI SLUMBER PARTYperformance:matthew mccrary: guitar | voice
dennis harvey: drums
composition/production:matthew mccrary: composition | lyrics
dennis harvey: composition | mastering | mixing | production | recording
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performance:composition/production:michael ambro: composition
paul ambro: composition
jason harvey: composition
dennis harvey: composition | mastering | mixing | production | recording
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performance:jason harvey: bass guitar | voice
michael ambro: guitar
paul ambro: guitar
dennis harvey: drums | keyboards | noises | voice
composition/production:michael ambro: composition
paul ambro: composition
jason harvey: composition
dennis harvey: composition | mastering | mixing | production | recording
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performance:composition/production:michael ambro: composition
paul ambro: composition
jason harvey: composition
dennis harvey: composition | mastering | mixing | production | recording
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performance:jason harvey: bass guitar
omran shafique: guitar
jon beal: keyboards | voice
dennis harvey: drums | keyboards | noises
composition/production:jon beal: composition
jason harvey: composition
omran shafique: composition
dennis harvey: composition
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file_downloadIt has the power to render its wearer invisibilbo.performance:composition/production:michael ambro: composition
paul ambro: composition
jason harvey: composition
dennis harvey: composition | lyrics | mastering | mixing | production | recording
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performance:jason harvey: bass guitar
paul ambro: guitar
michael ambro: keyboards
dennis harvey: keyboards | noises
composition/production:michael ambro: composition
paul ambro: composition
jason harvey: composition
dennis harvey: composition | mastering | mixing | production | recording
notes:... Only one thing could clear my head and get me back on my game: a training montage. Back at the station, I was on fire, switching from obstacle courses to punching bags, fighting an entire army of holo-bots and leaving them soaking in pools of their own digital oil. It focused my thoughts onto one thing: if Multi-Mouth was behind all of this, what were the dreams and visions that kept assaulting me, almost like a defense against his wily wiles? I was so wrapped up in unwrapping the mystery that I failed to see the broken step on the staircase leading out of the training hall. ...