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You Are Arrived (But You've Been Cheated)

by The Spirit Of The Beehive

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SFK 03:26
It’s been a violent year, but who am I? I don’t cast a shadow or reach too high. I do my research every night and never find. While stumbling out the bar after two or so; SFK, they want my body. I’ve suffered major damage to my brain. I’ll never think the same. [Sports. Violence.] Necromancing in private rooms. I think I botched my future too soon.
World Access 03:31
O’ Jesus blessed me with a body to throw out for fun. You know it don’t hurt. An unearthly glow engulfed your body. I never thought you looked so good. I pissed in your shower; the hot steam of the water burned my back as the walls blurred. I dream of what dress they’ll put me in when I check out of this blue ruin. No space. I’m cancer. I’m running. I can’t support you...
Take me outside, I wanna have fun tonight. They tell me, “You are arrived, but you’ve been cheated.” Way back when since grade school I’ve been down, kicked around. Scratching eyes from prick third graders. Sniffing glue in strangers’ cars. Passing out on vomit soaked vintage couches. I have all of this: 1) Thirty dollars 2) Respect from colleagues 3) Stolen wallets. Take me outside, I wanna have fun tonight. Hey Timmy, you are arrived...but you’ve been cheated.
Bobby took me down to the shore yesterday. He pointed at the ocean and said, “Can’t you fucking see?” And I said, “Sure, what’s in it for me?” Natural devotion. When we hold hands for too long I worry people might stare, but Bobby passed away last week. I bet he never cared. Now I live all alone. I disguise my voice on the phone. Why, on the side of the road, I confess my worries unknown? Natural devotion. [If someone had asked me fifteen years ago to imagine what Hell feels like, it would have felt a lot like Me in (indiscernible) right now.] August came and went so quick. I’m all missed. I guess. I guess we’re burning up in fox piss. [If you want every monotonous day to feel utterly unreal and meaningless, if you want to spend every moment -------- if you want to lose any understanding of who you are or who you were or who you want to be, move to (indiscernible) alone.] [Now, die.]
Joan 02:09
Skating on bad acid. Watching a contortion of lovely hands. A blue room I slept in, an air of past crude fucking: I breathe it in. A light moves in time across my wide eyes. Am I good at heart? Railing the pollution. Weight of a whole ocean that holds me down. Joan of arc: hand to heart.
Space becomes irrelevant, just as I suspected. I’m alone in this house like I’m alone with these sentences. Every step I take is one more closer to the void. I’m afraid. I’m annoyed. I’m convulsing with the boys and I’m through. Fear is in the dark, in the cracks in the walls, in my veins via syringes, in my eyes, in my balls. I’m unsure. All those photos showing smiling faces turn, twist and bend to new proportions. Speed up. Slow down. I can see your face in a dream. [All American. Hum of sex and modern commerce. Buzzing in and out of my two ears. I bought a gun to ease my worries. Shooting tan, lines they burst. Speeding up. Slowing down. Stopping.] Bon voyage. A vacation in triage. The long goodbye.


Ice Age 28 / Ranch 34


released December 5, 2015

recorded at the headroom in Philadelphia (and Evan's bedroom, again)
engineered by Chris Baglivo and Evan Bernard
mastered by Andy Clarke

horns on Joan and Natural Devotion by John Slavin

photos by Amory King




ice age records Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

smoke cops, kill weed

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