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Sleepwalk Revisited

by Cobra Zebra

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1.
Smother It 04:24
It's Monday and I'm half asleep. Eyes closed and I'm on my feet. The nag of the alarm clock's beep sticks to me. "... and, God, I need a cigarette." Nod as if I'm listening. Is money worth the hell of this? I guess. It's Tuesday and I'm waking up, wishing I could shake it up. Why do I still give a fuck, I'm stuck. (toss it off, turn it off) Running just to stay in shape. Eating but without the taste. It's all the struggle I can take, my crusade. (chastity, bow down to me) If I had a want, I'd smother it... In drugs, in love, in the taste of a girl just as broken up... In sweat, in legs, in a fire-tower while the morning begs. If only I, oh only I could want. If only I were enough alive to want. It's Wednesday and I'm getting by. Nothing ahead nothing behind. I smile hello and I wave goodbye. Nothing but CBS. My life is stale, emotionless. The laughs are fake and I hate the set, I'm a mess. It's Thursday and I'm getting drunk. Out on the scene with the dying young. New dreams with the same outcomes, I'm done. (Sisyphus, give it a rest). My life is a shopping mall. Cheap clothes, ads line the walls. With mannequins, I share my thoughts on God. (bent to fit and full of shit) If I had a want I'd smother it... In hate, in rage, in your bloody mouth where my knuckles break. In spit, in piss, in a hurricane of words I bit. If only I, oh only I could want. If only I were enough alive to want. This is all I'd want. Something simple, something plain. Something easy, something fun, with a purpose I could shake. And it could leave me all at once, and lay me in my grave... regrets at bay, and all okay. In love. In loss. in a wooden case with some flowers on top. In thought, in naught, in a funny story you'd almost forgot. If only I, oh only I could want.
2.
Worker 04:28
I'm just a worker, an ant on the hill. Pushing a pile of papers, ain't out in the field. I'm not the monster, just a cog in his machine, but I can't go hungry over humanity. I'm a worker for the war machine and we’re just working on pushing our lines. I'm a worker for the new regime and we're just working on another fight. I'm wringing my paychecks of innocent blood. No matter the purchase I still don't feel good. But I'm just a worker, so I shrug off the shame and focus on movies, on music, on games. I'm a worker for the war machine, and we’re just working on spreading our lies. I'm a worker for the new regime and we're just working on keeping you alive. I'm the leeching conflicted, a parasite ashamed. My friends all go marching chanting the name. Just like their fathers, and my father the same. A classic dogmatic, though I'm too much a coward to ever say. I'm a worker, for the war machine. I'm a worker for the new regime...
3.
I'm catching cold, it's taken hold. I'm moving slow, I'm blood and bone, it won't let go. Just look around, this ain't our house. These ain't our sounds, they put us out, it's all theirs now. I miss our time out in the sun. I always knew this day would come. Just one more scream to wake my blood, it sounds so good. My friends are ghosts, castrated hosts. They used to howl, they used to growl, now they just moan. They used to sing, and spill everything. The love was strong, the nights were long, now we just sleep. I miss our time out in the sun. I always knew this day would come. Just one more scream to wake my blood, it sounds so good. And there's fever, it's goin round, no more laughin now, we're comin down. A fever that's goin round, we're coughin now and falling out.
4.
I love it, the feeling. room sways, we're swimming. heartbreak covers everything. Head spins, hands shake. lights stretch like runways. calling you out into the street. Gold lights, rain down. streets wet, reflect. "I'll be your scarecrow, Dorothy". Perfect, empty. the darkness, so tempting. begging, "Don't fall asleep on me..." I just want to stay, I want to be where you are, where you are... and hide our time away, and we'll play these parts until we fall apart. The quiet, the echoes. houses, and tombstones. almost enough to make you think. Wet eyes, wet hair. dead smile, dead stare, right here, you're tugging out my seams. Hungry, aching. for something worth taking. begging, "Don't fall asleep on me..." I just want to stay, I want to be where you are, where you are... and hide our time away, and we'll play these parts until we fall apart. "Lovely, unhappy, empty and aging. Kill me or fix me lest morning restrain me."
5.
This is what you get when you drag out a breakdown. Wearing out your friends with old hopes and letdowns. Your broken heart makes the most of your drunk mouth, and once it starts, it goes til the sun's out. Twisting your words with its cavalier daylight, you feel more absurd for each confession in hindsight. And you write every friend, apologize again, and pace it out a neurotic mess... wishing you knew what to fix. This is what you get when you drag out a breakdown. Lovers make you sick and zealots draw your worst out. You're too old for love and god and bullshit, but too young to ignore the way they flaunt it. Always singing their songs, those lyrical abortions, they dance all night long, no sense of importance, while you choke on your hate, smoke out the taste, and curse it all under your breath... wishing you could be more like them. Over and Over. This is what you get when you drag out a breakdown. An emotionless decent into shit-town, and happiness comes and goes with the weather. You'd fight for it if you didn't know better, but it's easier to hide in every book you get your hands on to get lost inside some well-written sitcom but as you turn the last page, as the final scene plays, you hurt like a lover bereft.. from your head to the heart in your chest. Over and Over.
6.
You've been someone else since the ride home from the clinic. When your mom said she was finished and called you awful names. You don't want my help, as if I could even give it, don't need me there to listen, got nothing much to say. Now we're alone, nursing phantom bruises, and I need to know that you're all right. No we're alone, no matter what we do as we drift apart, into the dark, and sink out of sight. It's winter with your heart, that's how the poem goes. You smile and say hello where you go, I leave alone. 'cause I know you're trying hard, and I'm a tombstone in the yard half hidden by the flowers you water every day. Now we're alone, nursing phantom bruises, and I need to know that you're all right. Now we're alone, no matter what we do as we drift apart, into the dark, and sink out of sight.

about

This is a rework of songs we recorded in 2012. New parts, new mixing, new mastering, etc. We love it, we hope you do too.

credits

released March 2, 2016

Steven Wagler - Vocals, Gutiar, Bass, Synth,
Kenny Andis - Drums, Percussion, Group Vocals

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Cobra Zebra Loogootee, Indiana

Just 2 (sometimes 3) dudes churning out timeless classics and changing the face of music forever. Do we do it for the fame, the fortune? Yes, and we'd like some of it immediately.

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