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Mike Law on the Spiral Stairs

by WILD ARROWS

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1.
Big Dream 04:10
This big dream is getting embarrassing, when I punch the page the ink won't get dry. I keep moving away so you're not my home, but wherever I go the jury cries out, You're just alone,  Hey, you're frozen there in, an odd thought, that I've gone to far, and heaven asks why is this all you want? An all day sale, plastic flowers $1.89. A siren wail, and a court ordered fine, the crucifix is hung on minimum wage, the empty holster, the dotted line, in an odd thought, that I've gone to far and heaven asks why is this all you want? I used to read Camus, Dostoevsky and Faulkner too, beyond good and evil to the swastika's of Siouxsie Sioux, but I don't need my friends high up on Calgary, to melt the ice or explain right from wrong to me.  And all the barmen in heaven at the local pub, say Sisyphus always buys a round, there's no exit and he pays the working girls well, he knows he shouldn't say it but his alibi sold him out. Muhammad and Jesus were brothers to the end, so I don't know why they're throwing rocks at him. On the cross even Pontius Pilate had his doubts, because when I pray to you the petals still fall out. He says it's an odd job, a strange walk, down spiral stairs, and the night goes on. They know it's not fair and all my famous friends, make sure they say so and they make sure that you can hear, but their bank accounts, well they're in on the joke, and they make sure that their accountants know. But this machine cooled air, it always makes me choke like I didn't ruin outright, anyone who loved me or put up a fight, but the lighter won't spark so even fire is in doubt, I got lost in Eden, I got found out, down, spiral stairs, the neon font, and heaven asks why is this all you want. This big dream is getting embarrassing. 
2.
Depr 02:49
The depression of my father, the depression of my father's father. An heirloom by 15, Mind the minefield treading through the water. The depression of my father, the depression of my mother's father, held hands with the violence, tongue tied the tiger to treat the trauma. Depression adds another,  Depression adds another, another. Multiplies like a virus so I took a breath when I was underwater. I can't wait to go. A straight line to the spiral.
3.
All the dead spots you put down make me desperate to take them out. Dressed in fire the ides of now, you're the priest here and never make a sound. All The Dead Spots
4.
Get Down 02:54
I should've kneeled down and begged you for whatever you'd give to me. A kernel, colonipin, hand clap, think piece, the second and third for free. If I qualify for rent control I hear they throw the funeral in for free. I've been writing down all of these songs to sing, yelling look over here the question you answered's just got to have to do with me I'm waving my arms around, Yelling. Shaking them up in the air. You put on my stolen clothes, put glitter in my hair, hoping you'd see me, hoping it's too late but it's been too much to bear, but if I got to do it, I'll do it in polite society. At least, that's what my friends who's parents paid for Ivy League schools tell me. We should thank you for a half a day a week, the new world order is kinder and gentler a machine gun to computer screen  but Liliah looks good in that... Sorry, were you talking to me? If you don't have an appointment, I guess there's no one to see. and if you don't have an appointment, I guess there's no one to see. I dressed as Sodom and Gomorrah every day but halloween, if she came from me to you the preacher forgives for a fee  and just cause you're an American, kid. Don't mean that you won't get kicked in the teeth. And I know I could get down but that don't sound so good to me. And I know I could get down but that don't sound so good for my knees.
5.
In the darkness the snakes took vows, betrayed by Peter the gates fell down. The needle weighed in and you stepped out the needle spoke and you turned around. You held the sadness like a vow, the needle breathed in and you breathed out. 
6.
On the spiral stairs I flew. Caught walking sideways in plain view, with you. But there's no grace, and I run. The words from your gun. To you,I run. The prayers,  spit and spun. You went white with red on your hand. Wait here and I'll tell them, to do, what they can. But there's no grace. and I run. Debt from the gun. The prayers light and spun. In Latin forked tonunge.  The debt will stay undone. Body blood and one. They don't believe us. They don't believe us. They don't believe us. They don't believe us. They don't believe us. On the spiral stairs, I'm the spiral. 
7.
The flame flickers and your mind goes out. The flame flickers and somehow, you don't have a doubt. All the dead spots, you plan out. It would take a million to even count. Dressed in fire, make a sound. All the dead spots.
8.
At Least 07:01
I always loved more than just you, whoever her, and the notebook too. When you're disconnected like a broken brake. There's no time to worry, if you don't hesitate. The speed will kick up, wheels catch fire, the hounds at your heals eating barbed wire. Everyone knows your face at the local bar, in the lower east side lake of fire. Destiny. Well, up until closing time, at least. I'm too bored to debate the news. Fact or fiction, or dancing shoes. When the polls came in they meant to you, whatever you wanted them to. Buy some chewing gum from Warren Buffet. Investment cost, the price of profit. You can meet me in my coffin, I'll be there when I can. Because all I ever learned was to annihilate, chained by love but free of hate. The costumes changed by the second date, her father paid the bill.  Sinead O'Conner went on TV and tore up a picture of the pope. American was horrified, crucified her in real life.  But in Massachusetts, I was safe in her glow. While the priests took my friends down spiral stairs and the saddest thing is they came back up again. Hearts on fire, God in their lungs, hounds at their heels  and they would all die young. They'll call your name out at the bazaar, left for dead on plywood tabletops. Forked tongue scripture and Sunday school, the hounds at your heels and stock market news. Their parents thought that they were going to hell so they'd save their children if they couldn't save themselves. Lifted, by the price of the noose. Desperate buyers mean sellers can't lose, Destiny. Well, up until the confessional at least. 
9.
Bloodline 03:20
Your thousand shows of force are fleeting eternally and do not make me feel frightened anymore. I lost all fear from seeing the weakest among us run full forward face first into the strike of the lightning. Well what have you ever done but be born a fortunate son. I don't believe your us vs. them when it is just you who does the taking. Cyanide words are launched and all that's behind you is lost but I do not fear your monochrome delusions. Standing outside your fort armor lies at our feet, and truth will pierce your power though steel might pierce this body. You struck your mark so you lost your fever is sickness and need You destroy the weak and for that no god would ever forgive you. Steel strobe and engine fuel made us sick for awhile as though you know what a wave sounds like when it crashes. And the parasite thoughts of one that lion is left with its crumbs, just born into a bloodline, you didn't grow those teeth cause you earned them. There's nothing that you've ever done but be born a fortunate one and when the fire burns out, you're dead star, black hole, empty body. Your destiny it was sealed before we even emptied our lungs. That all your power has been a life led, so pathetic, and fleeting.

about

Written one April over twenty days in the the beautiful blue and green hue.
Recorded thereafter.

credits

released October 25, 2019

Songs by Mike Law, Shiny Shoes ASCAP.

Recorded by Mike Law at The Civil Defense in Brooklyn NY except "At Least" recorded by Jeremy Scott at The Civil Defense.
Mixed by Gary Atturio.
Instruments and production by Mike Law except:
Additional invaluable production by Grady Walker on "On the Spiral Stairs" and "At Least" and Gary Atturio on "Big Dream"
Additional recording input and help from Jermey Scott.
Drums on All the Dead Spots by Alan Cage.
Input and support from Andy LeMaster, Luke Pearson, Jeremy Scott and Steve Brodsky.
Mastered by Alex DeTurk at The Bunker, Brooklyn, NY.
Artwork by Xerox and layout by Rebecca Turbow and Aaris King.
Bonus Bandcamp only track, "The Crooked Crutch" recorded by Jeremy Scott and mixed by Mike Law.

Thanks to the friends who leant a hand to the album and Sinéad O'Connor.

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