The Buckley Times

Arsenic

by Brittany Shoup 2010, recorded live w/ the Man Landers.

Arsenic in my food.
Arsenic in my thoughts.
I just keep poisoning myself.
I keep on poisoning myself, and I can’t stop.

I am a murderer, I’ve lost ones I love
by killing them or turning them away in their disgust.
See, one day, I snapped, and I slaughtered my whole town.
Now the only one who visits is my Mom,
she loves me no matter what.

I am a rapist, I got problem with control.
I will invade you if you make yourself the slightest bit vulnerable.
I don’t believe you when you say “no” because you’re a whore.
I can fix you. I can fix you. I can fix you, so you don’t whine anymore.

I’m possessed by demons, they’ve got their hold over me.
Now I just cannot wait to rape and kill the next person I see.
Impalement and decapitation must be in my blood
‘Cause I see bodies draped on fences and the meats of others on my plate for lunch.

I am HUMAN, I don’t trust myself at all.
I am capable of breaking you and destroying myself.
I want to tell everyone I know to stay away from me, because
I must be a monster if I can’t stop thinking about these things.

Arsenic your food.
Arsenic in your thoughts.
I will keep poisoning you
if you keep on listening to my songs.

[This song is a melodic, shortened version of exposure response prevention (ERP) exercises for Pure-O Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.]

Feed

By Brittany Shoup, copyright 2009. Recorded live with the Creepy Uncles, thanks to Mr. Andrew Lowden.

You define yourself by your financial stability
You assign your self worth to your job security
Well, that’s enough pressure to make you go crazy -
bat shit bananas, you gotta believe me,

The wall will turn red if you don’t rest your head
and define yourself by what you love instead
of feeding the monster of greed.
It wants you to be sick, It wants you to need it,
it wants you to depend on capitalism
to feel you’ve succeeded in life.

It wants to provide temporary solutions -
The outside seems better, but the inside’s polluted!
The inside is soiled, sources untouched -
Smoldering, festering, suppressed by drugs.
It pretends it wants to nurse you back to health,
but a suck on the tit will nurse you straight into hell.
You walk and you work, you pulse and you breath,
but you’re just a vessel waiting to be released.

This year’s progress report didn’t add up.
You try your best, but you never fill your cup.
Vacations lying in the dust -
an eight hour day turns to ten, and then ten to none.
Eight to ten, and then ten to none.

Nine to five to suicide.
Feed, Feed…

Up To You

by Brittany Shoup, Copyright 2010.

How did you know - how did you know that January wouldn’t be my month?
How did you know, in heaven?

You say that the music there is better than before, but I bet you didn’t know that
down in the land of the living, i’m writing you a hundred songs.

C V1 V2 C V3 C bridge solo chorus
I’ve never been confident enough to write my work in movements.
So you can go listen to your beautiful music while I sing up to you.

I play them out just to make people squirm a little. If I play them loud enough, you might come back. But you probably wouldn’t, ‘cause you can go listen to your beautiful music while I scream up to you.

I can’t write a symphony, I don’t even know which flats are in what key, but I’m learning. I don’t know the range of every instrument on earth, but you probably don’t even use ‘em in your beautiful music, while I ache up to you.

Projector

by Brittany Shoup, Copyright 2010

I wash up on your shore all covered in film, and I’m convinced that you’re the only one who can pull it off, but it just grows.

Shedding skin is like knowing when to grow up.
But, how nice it would be if I could rest my world on your projection screen.

I trust you always - unconditionally, without reason or care. It don’t make sense, I’m gonna get myself hurt. It don’t make sense, I’m gonna get myself hurt…

Shedding skin is like knowing when to grow up.
But, how nice it would be if I could rest my world on your projection screen.
Oh, how nice it would be if I could rest my world on a projection screen.
I could make you anything that I want you to be.
How nice it would be if I could rest my world on a projection screen.

For Bunny

by Brittany Shoup, Copyright 2009.

Globules of clarity
I know I should have specified
I found your half-dead body on my porch and watched you writhe.
You’re running round in circles, but you’re laying on your side.
Making your escape in a beautiful ruby crescent shape.

Daddy has been sad and I don’t know what to do.
The parent role is switching poles, man, all he does is brood.
We’re trying our best and you know it takes a toll,
But right now I’m watching God and she’s sayin’ I’ll be okay on my own.

[Where are you running to?
Do you mind if I see you through?
Cause right now I’m in a house covered by a big black cloud.
He comes home and stares at the wall,
I wonder if he’s there at all,
But your kicking until your organs drown.

Sat on Momma’s lobster trap,
Your ribcage lost its pulse.
I took some crappy photos and took you out to the brush.
I Paid my respects and hosed down the concrete floor,
Then danced with floating droplets of truth
splashing through every single pore.

(My cat half-killed a bunny, I found it on my porch, I stayed with it until it died.)

Dancing with Death

By Brittany L.G. Shoup, copyright 2010

Why did I ever love myself in the first place?
like my father said,
the higher you reach, the harder you fall,
so why should I let myself love anything at all?

See every few months I seem to have a problem
where somethings obsesses me,
makes me hate everything,
crumblin’ foundations I worked hard to build.
just leave me alone, It was my fault they spilled.

[Please just go so I don’t have to try,
Please just leave me now so I can die]

Why do I keep chugging along in this nightmare?
I’ve seen the dark and the light but I’m stuck.
When I get too close to the light, I get scared,
but when the darkness surrounds,
well, I almost give up.

I’ve internalized the world’s sufferings,
sabotaged all of my passions with pain.
I can’t look at something I love without
Thinking of how it could make me insane.

(This song is about a set-back in the treatment of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder)

Validity

by Brittany L.G. Shoup, copyright 2010.

I feel like I lost a friend to your version of Jesus.
I don’t see righteousness in your new path of righteousness.
You sputter advice at me so fast, I can’t think straight.
You left me in a scared and vulnerable state.

Now you’re saying I’m judgmental and you’re saying I’m not ready for the likes of you.
You say I can’t achieve true peace without accepting your god to be true.

You say he has a plan for me, well how do you know that?
You are not a priest or prophet, you’re a presumptuous old friend.
You say you know exactly when he’s watching over me -
I don’t get why some folks think they must know everything. See,

The beauty in my world lies in mystery.
Why do we sort creed by validity?

I think a mistake was made by visiting this rainy day,
I don’t think I’m ready to hear the words you have to say.
I’m so curious about how you choose to live,
But please don’t filter my problems though your black and white sieve.

I don’t really know about this life we live,
But I try not to be desperate to make sense of it.
It only gets me sad and militant.

Flip Cup

by Brittany Shoup, copyright 2009.

I’m a little retarded
I’m a little bit slow
I can barely take care of myself
Or be around people I know
I’m afraid of most humans
and I don’t understand
any new concept or action that someone might put in my hands

She tried to explain flip cup
He tried to explain sales
He wants me to arrange when all I can do is wash buckets and pales
Man my mind isn’t fast, but
I was in advanced math until they kicked me out and I started top smoke Marijuana

I tried learning the keyboard
but staff music is hard
treble or bass, I keep losing my place
I’ll take tabs and guitar
I got my microphone
and I write a pretty good song
so I’ll keep pushing myself,
I won’t put myself down, like sayin….

I’m a little retarded
I’m a little bit slow
I can barely take care of myself
Or be around people I know
I’m afraid pf most humans
and I don’t understand
any new concept or action that someone might put in my hands

But that’s no way to think of yourself!

I set my standards low so I don’t get disappointed.
I convince myself that I aint worth too much at all.
But I know I’m pretty badass, and I know I’m pretty smart,
I’ve had enough of making myself feel small!

(I wrote this song after a long period of calling myself “retarded” to excuse any mishaps that might occur in my brain. I realized that I was just being self-deprecating (and perhaps offensive) so I made a conscious decision to stop calling myself retarded. It’s called “Flip Cup”, enjoy!)