Rising Occasion

by DoT

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03:34

about

Recorded by Jeff Kynoch @ Sound Extractor.
Mastered by Rene Wilson.
Released on Double Lunch Records.

credits

released June 3, 2017

Phil Holtby
RIck Reid
Matt McKeen
Jesse Silkie

tags

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all rights reserved

about

DoT Edmonton, Alberta

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Track Name: Blackfish Sound
don't abuse someone, 'cuz they're in your pocket
don't run your touch into the ground
blackfish sound

you've got to trust and trust again
get close for the perfect shot
blackfish sound

don't conquer where you can still see the outline of a friend
don't conquer just because you can recognize chum
blackfish sound

o girl stock your widows watch
with toys, spirograph and plants for the sill
go on stock your hard-paced widows walk
with toys and a mini-kit for the kid

blackfish sound
Track Name: You Need A Man
you need a man, need a man so bad
making your plans at the drop of a hat
why it could be Jesus holding your hand
don't mean a thing, no it don't touch the fact
that i'm huddled in the corner
saying lust
spell recitations
like one last crack at luck

i walk around, moon rock on my chest
i never could spare you one compliment
i stow my dignity under my breath
one on each shoulder, so what they are friends?
and i'm convinced
eunuchs
and half-wits
feel the truest
Track Name: Cannon Beach
i wanna up and drive for fee-free cannon beach
with a dashboard doll and a city wink
your cue to call is when i'm thinking
'hey why not another drink'
so here's the tub and that's the sink on a birthday

i'm trying to laugh
with palace guards again
but i miss your sternness

now i'm ducking out like something sharp
in a mad scramble, after dark
and the rule is, should you get far
you walk real slow, but it's your call
in the heat of the moment i'll raise a fist
and blossom it
unto thy hip for a curtsy

she likes to stretch
what unlucky means to get
before it hits punishment
i'm trying to laugh
with palace guards again
but i miss your sternness

satan's socks still read angel at the top
and only heaven debates the great flip flop
i wanna up! and drive down to where they get alive
on a tuesday

she likes to stretch
what unlucky means to get
before it hits punishment
i'm trying to laugh
with palace guards again
but i miss your sternness
Track Name: Seven Paces
i bobbed and then i weaved
i zagged and cleaved
into a clearing
upward peering
the fog dog beating down

and the bait of death unbuttoning before me
and my full
crumb trail pockets

well i was rising up
but then something snapped my tongue
a jealous hex o
why'd you feel so small
when i was aiming to be near?

then i woke beside miles of chopped
dead green stalk
and scattered crumbs

quiet as a bow
it feeds on me
seven paces forward
seven paces forward
Track Name: Sunday And The Pats
cross off another
pill calendar
and smack the black eyed snooze

only when i sit around your aging
and eastern medicine
i don't mind hanging around your waiting
for power outage

cracking albums of your heyday
gone from a showboat into nodding off to show hosts in the early pm
just waiting for sunday and the pats

only when i sit around your aging
and eastern medicine
i don't mind hanging around your waiting
for power outage

sitting around your aging
hanging around your waiting
for power outage
Track Name: Interview Breath
you did not arrive two by two
like the other women i look at
so i cannot look on like a fly
on a shower room ceiling

frozen stuck
while you dance, drip and dry away

and if it didn't work out
i'd take a part in your buckled arms
in your simple eyes
in your panic rod
in your glass
slipper fight

so suddenly a liquefied response
and my schtick rests now on shame inspiration

so why are they surprised
when i call it interview breath?
joy is never all undressed
Track Name: Hackjob
laying deadpan in your own crosshairs
i've seen every inch of you
each uncountable healing
each indelible floorboard
you're no cheerleader

hackjob on petite

as my drunk fingers slipped around
the party tub water
and satellite overage anatomy
i was grazing the cavity
of zorro's canvas
pink prison wall
cradling the beating pit

hackjob on petite

if you should leave
clasped by sprinting friends
or weaving and honking
into the second last bed
if you forget how to hold your breath
i understand

hackjob on petite
Track Name: Rock Radio
kind of guy that might go to rock radio barbecues
sat where i had once leaned into you
until close, head in the stars
stumbling through the street i was born

private fly geyser, a sight in the morn
fading fly geyser, the darkness has torn
i believe in the rocket, the ruby, the stone
but besiege you like marvellous midas alone
on his knees and his palms
on his knees and palms

see not everyone is smushed in between stillborns
how lucky i was to have been where we pushed
under hay bales