Ambassadot Bop

by Scalpy Gonzales

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1.
03:26
2.
3.
4.
03:08
5.
6.
02:17
7.
02:08
8.
08:42
9.
10.
11.
03:10
12.
05:09
13.
14.
03:18

about

No song on this album is more than 4 tracks. Recorded in Santa Cruz, 2014. Dedicated to soundcloud.com/thephallus. Booklet included in download. Nothing is good unless you play with it, and all that is good is nasty.

credits

released December 9, 2014

Scalpy Gonzales, Spondee, Angel Cunt, Bonejevis, Maze Dull, Hands Mantis, Worms, The Hogg, Conner Lopez, Naka G, Jake Firmin, and the Hunolt House Trapp Family Singers. Mastered by Duke Glucose.

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Track Name: Strangers
Wwhhaatt aarree yyyoouu ggoonnnnaa ddoo?
Tthhee ppeerrssoonn nneexxtt ttoo yyyoouu
Pprroobbaabbaabblly nnoott
Track Name: Dogma and Catpa
I'm a son of a bitch
My mom is a dog
I call her Dogma
My Dad is a dick
Always sleeping around
I call him Catpa

17,000 Ssttrraannggeerrss join together in cursing the day
24,000 more in an hour as the timezones do the wave
brought into this world by machines that scream
because we told them to last night
stuffing our veins with caffeine at the busstop agreeing that there's nothing to say

My eyes touch the clock and run as if it were the sun
but they're back before it moves an inch from 7:31
In 14 minutes I can eat
replace this burning void with meat
and begin again with wondering why I feel incomplete
Track Name: Space-Gang Spraypaint
"My pen is that special kind of warm that only eggs can get,"
She sighed through her mint and smiled,
"I'm gonna be a mother!"
Track Name: "[Weeee!]"
From here it looks like playing
Cliche children playing
Awkward with the hose
deliberate in their tone, playing
I can tell by the things they're saying
that they take their lives seriously
their problems aren't inferior
their hearts are no more pure
there love is no less weird and their fear sucks just like my fear

But i can see them changing
from my porch I can see them changing
Their little brains rearranging
their innocence is endangered
by the poaching eyes of the poets
and nostalgia-crazed TV shows
We make their giggles our own
And tell them when they're grown
about how care-free they were playing
Track Name: 2 Straws, Please!
They're so proud of their baby boy
Who's got a story in a sea of numbers
He's the reason you feel a need to cry
against a meaningless statistical numbness

I'll never forget your face

You're my baby boy, you're my baby girl
Track Name: Cop Posture
I got the bossman on my johnson
breathing on my fuckin sack
foggin up the window so my seeds can't look into my eyes

I got my arms crossed tough and lawless
while i grovel for 8 bucks an hour
I got this piss-drunk motherfuck telling me i make limp dick pizza
when everybody knows i make hard dick pizza
who left this asshole on my barstool
who left his asshole running
using all the asshole so the robocops can only hassle half ass slackin when the students are attackin
i know its chance and circumstance that puts them on that side of the riot gear
but the fact still stands that they're sucking more than their fair share of sucking

That prick Matt from summercamp
Your landlord's punkass
Your last landlord's punkass
and his peanut butter crotch rash

I got the bossman on my johnson
breathing down my fuckin back
fucking with the curvature of my god damn spine cuz he's so fuckin heavy
cuz he sits all day while his ass inflates endlessly beneath him
As his intake unceasingly increases
with each creature he enslaves to extinction
creating nothing but feces and seedlings
Track Name: Kenny
With hollow wooden breast in hand
he went looking
He looked in his own mouth with the tip of his tongue
and with his own face squinted at the sun
His right hand blindly probed around for his gun

A darkness shook the stillness
as a form eclipsed the entrance
A giant blade sniffing around
began to scrape the surface
the sweet white meat
slid off and fluttered away
to take his baby tooth
Track Name: Snamuh-snafu
Sometimes they...
Track Name: The Luckiest Man in the World
I consider myself the luckiest man in the world today
tomorrow I'll reconsider myself
right into the San Francisco Bay
it seems that our lives are all equally weird and tough in a strange way
but I can't admit it to myself and deny the suffering I've never faced
Track Name: Mr. Tongue, Mr. Tongue
Mr. Tongue, Mr. Tongue!
Grab a hyphen, hurry come!
We were young! We were reckless!
ran right off and there was heat death!
blinking expressionless below
filled our veins with vertigo
should have never split the dough
to try to multiply the bread
look what dividing labor brung
Mr. Tongue we need a hug!

So here I am
in a time of crisis I am to understand
but I just got here
apparently we fucked up a lot of things
beyond my ancestors wildest dreams
and I'm supposed to care
Track Name: Convince Me
A fractal of me's on my left shoulder
wearing smaller and smaller devil suits
Each cuter than the last
each claiming to do a favor for the next
loving it even further down the line
taking desire as advice
dismissing advice as oppression
the voice on my right dries and wilts
leaving his own fractal with nothing to do
angels and devils alike begin huffing sharpies

and how about the shoulder i sit on?
aren't i doing it a favor when i slip?
When my answers become more and more predictable?
no tricks here
a perversion you can trust and a pleasure you can count on
and what about when the shoulder i sit on turns out to be a park bench?
Track Name: The Thing Is
How's that for a chillosophy?
Track Name: Hiroshima Giftshop
Her shirt displayed a random noun she did not understand
her eyes a smoking milky blue cut from a people mag
oh how her golden flowing locks
did pop in front of the backdrop
of the Hiroshima giftshop
and all my favorite brands

I winked an Aryan eye at her and said I'm in a band
she offered me a scooby-doo shaped oriental snack
I said "hey wait a minute there!
You've got a virus, don't you care??
You're being told what you should wear
by a distant evil land!!"

At that there came a blinding flash and a pointing wrinkled hand
a voice said "slow down, cowboy, this is your Uncle Sam.
You stand there holier than thou
resenting this young woman now
for not taking the conservative route
which you'd also reprimand."

I said "By god you're right there Unc! I shouldn't get so mad.
We're exporting diversity which her people don't have.
Plus, we're all children under plastic
and to realize that took something drastic
but together we can both move past it
and into Afghanistan!"
Track Name: Klein Bottle
The captain turned white with fear, red with rage, and blue with death
He stiffened, and bloated, and floated away
Seven months later he washed up on sand
And was found by a little explorer girl
She uncorked him, rolled up her sleeve, reached in
and out came the sheet music for Taps

You're like a sock
inside out and licking its own sphincter
An exhibitionism so vulgar you've become indistinct
there's no inside or outside
just a universal self-sufficiency
blinded to oblivion by the drunk of your own drink