released may 22nd, 2011, on the exit/\no exit tour, originally as a tour-only, physical release
released May 22, 2011
musicians (in no possible order)- coop, dominique hamilton, blasphemy, rikshaw, dj deep breathely, rooster doctor melvin berstein, cras culture, pete stein, joe stemler, ian gunn, ruckus, brian "fogs" fogerty, christ'off eichler, mark hardy once, & all other barely free partial prisoner members from the past & future.
big ups to you, andy, gary, sean, claire, dot, mom, dad, lucy, dre, daniel h. galanskifax, mugshot, masha, janette, anne, jason, jeremy, civil ape, damon, lenard, st. louis, mike, angela, fair, whitman, what up fogs?, curt john, conrad, drew, aunt chris, monday night dinner, lauren ikon, nate, jesse, northsiders, boulder on the tracks lookin asses, rooster noodle soup, little big bangs, person x, totes, anarchy, scripts n screwz, my man seymour justice, charlie delta, j ros, i don't have the bread or the chedda fo animocity, what up nfo?, yo can i say hello to tessonica, hey ben painter, all the painters, dominique, lily, sarah, erin wiles, cj smith, what up evolve? jim swill, robert inhuman, cemcom, holy!holy!holy!, saint losers - sean you're a genius, what up lauren b.?, lauren k?, mic, alex, melissa, hey amanda, the 99 percent, 2012, rose, arianna, brett dilley, sam, swells, andy, mikey p., dillon, jafar, hey abby, hello to leslie, dan (again), mya, josh, ninja lair, devin, dan gilbert, mikey, bike dan, mason, casinotown, hey how's it going? to spelling bee, nasty cat bath, barons of tang!, a big fuck you to all my ex-bosses, to every billionaire in the entire history of history, to haters, to busters, to shiteating grinsters and especially to kkkops! eat shit & die HO-LEASE!
blow trees. smoke weed. have fun. be well. iS.
pee ess, gary iS a robot. gary, if i had a dime for every time i thought you died, i'd probably have enough to pay for your funeral...
poke at the large hand of freedom's majestic chaos
hard-tosser of nautical prescriptions
supervisory performance-enhanced override of skeptical nightmarish livingscheme assassins
with coordination pending on a refusal to re-up gas-filled proprietors-- or agencies in general
imitating, i am writing a history about nothing & doing
if you are considering reading a book: try first reading the relative pride of a soldier's shoulder
breathing messiah, we breathing men
wired, bleep censored to refuse tags
as a temper-evident weary purveyor of now inhales advertisements
spoiler-ban of multi-donor particle assembly
meeting at a town in my tinsel
thin whistle, subtle silence
at the horizon
as far as light
in a simple whisper of complications
nauseating the hemisquares inbox retainer method
verification of safe, self-inflicted psychology lessons at the 400, level me
an ice cube of past melted in a bathing solar-intake of puzzle-dwelling duplexity strollers
roller skates, phenomenons, hoodlums, street bangers, insidious barfly residue as a snake giga bites ascertain fleshless universe as tactile & nonexistent as the last inception of it
and it it it, it it it, and it and it and it
and it it it
it it it
it it it
showed me that things aren't nothing & nothing iS beyond a fact
sitting in bed, living in my deadtime, typically awake when i should be sleeping, active against my will & ethics when i should be resting or creative
flashes blink a spectacle named breathing
boundless uncontrollable & balanced against not
byproduct of some certain types of love
understanding a commitment through graying hair & clenched teeth offwhite oral tombstones below a distorted mirror sky, warm, yet perrenially drenched in moistened poison saying poor choices with a body lacking the act of overcome overcome overcome
"nothing or war?", the purveyor of how relayed as the doubt crept in deduction & truth exited the meatlocker of pill claims & the efficiency of tipping balances
of what was lost in nothing
when i say nothing lasts, i mean it as a nothingness everlasting
tax-bracket of unknown cash-access
charge to the playtime
throw your grills into a pit & use promethea's evil to liberate your material self
and if anyone would like to finance my freedom
i'll be more than happy to bask in your irony
Track Name: barely free - a witch's tale (1st take)
what i have iS a story...
Track Name: barely free - just money
paint a platinum grill for yer coffin
Track Name: the lied two ft. ruckus of the apostles - into darkness
motherearth vibrates, shivers & floods
oppressive men conquer lands & rivers of blood
we fight the hype unless they say continue
starvation's raisin, another item on the $1 menu
now that's wicked, head of the snake
the united states- ground zero for the hate
Track Name: barely free - cinderblock blues
cinderblock blues... she's the mortar, am i the bricks?
Track Name: barely free - vagabonds lost in iS
the beat plays so sincerely it exists as time bearing witness to my existence in this.
took a journey to where I thought you were lurking but I was just looking.
looking for time in space.
the ultimate game of one trumping the other,
every(thing) I spoke of had a blue or red.
every(thing) I experienced was mine to be had.
I stepped out of this to wrap my was around is.
sometimes it doesn't really make sense.
listening to old movies on a sony walkman radio set.
watching my life unfold right in front of me.
I snipped some of my hair away away with a razor you gave me from dave.
a razor dipped in spliff resin met me in a resting place.
a restroom where I found my true love.
none of it makes sense anymore.
I made sense an object.
I made you an object.
Letting loose Leary Larry and Leo.
now, in marches the nameless.
all figured out.
no more tweaking when I see police.
finding my way through the thorns into the vine, I miss it.
this is my letting go.
this will be my last poem tonight.
it's just nature and is from here.
you never been on a ride like this before.
Track Name: barely free - game 3
all words taken from nba playoff coverage of game 3. the mavs went onto sweep the lakers & went on to win the title. yay sports!
Track Name: barely free - love on the radio
love on the radio or love in real life?
our votes still get ignored, so i implore you:
what the fuck iS democracy for?
in the dawn of a whoring morning
more glory or porn & choices
voiceless prisms & gory oratories, faceless vixes
there's no beauty in a heartless tomb inscription
there's no intelligence in denying that these wars have victims, sticks to them like a sickness
quick to flip these flicks & contradictions like:
bombing for peace or justice in an urban holocaust
growin up was love, now being grown iS being shown up by amerikant media forces forcefeeding me until i'm throwin up
every single corporate score pushes me towards a post-war mental ward
soon to be defined by my dental records & rigor mortus
these thoughts are sore but my eyes are blinded by the nightly tortures enforced from the white fortress
enforced by the white fortress
love on the radio iS all bling & smilin
love in real life iS more like an insane asylum