Oh.

by Weaponess

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1.
07:07
2.
04:05
3.

credits

released 30 June 2012

Weaponess is:

Adam Weston - Vocals/Guitar
Adam Ledger - Drums
Cameron Moitt - Guitar
Alex Brien - Bass

All music written and performed by Weaponess.
All lyrics written by Adam Weston.
Recorded, produced and mixed by Weaponess.
Mastered by Matt Barnard and Weaponess.
Art direction by Ryan Irvine.
Additional laughter in 'Stroganov' by Freddy Vinehill-Cliffe, Glen Matthews and Adam Weston.

Honourable mentions: Ryan Irvine, Matt Barnard, Rowan Oliver and Dave Emery.

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Track Name: Vacuum Boy
VACUUM BOY

(All lyrics written by Adam Weston, December 2011 – May 2012)

I grew up in a vacuum
Everything to its own tune

I’ve heard nature abhors me
But I’ve found others who don’t need to breathe

This air you prefer – people breathe it everywhere, such an oddity
They wheeze it in and spit it out – it’s ‘economy’; a commodity

I resort to facetiousness
To deal with part-time existentialists
‘Share if you support second-hand opinions’
Say the bandwagon’s minions


Oh, I’ll stay awake for you all day
No, I’ll never see wrong in you
Oh, my body has seen better days but
I’ll hold the sun up for your wrath


It’s a matter of infinite hope –
I’m not going to judge you for watching soaps’
Omnibuses jack-knife themselves
In the valley by the stagnant stream

Eckleburg scolds
The anatomy of ‘the mould’
But pyjamas and 'cheap plonk’ and trashy chick-flicks
Don’t constitute the cuckold

I’ll hold the sun aloft for your wrath
With a rubber glove on each hand
Acceptance before embracement
Handshakes before hugs

That’s not to say I’m cold
Probably just bored
Alone with my monolith
Waiting for the star-child


Oh, I’ll stay awake for you all day
No, I’ll never see wrong in you
Oh, my sanity’s seen better days but
I’ll hold the sun up for your wrath
Track Name: Stroganov
STROGANOV

(All lyrics written by Adam Weston, June – November 2011)

I don’t care
About your cough
We live in too small a town
For a crook to transcend into a Stroganov

This town’s still alive
I’ve seen it squirm
You don’t get to pull its plug
You don’t get to step on this worm; I’m firm

When you call me up
I can hear your smirk
Whistle up your pit-bull bitch
She’ll do your dirty work – bat her ‘lids or go berserk

So you bought all the hotels
But they’re only on the browns
You’re trying to cram this town into your wallet
Whilst little green houses tumble from it


I didn't want to say
What it is you said
I never want to do
What you did
I never want to have
Your haughty girlfriend
Industrialist cadaver
Fat-cat road-kill king of haggle


Let me take you back
To before little Dominic was shot
Did you have tycoon posters on your walls?
Did you heed the solipsistic one in some asketic paradox?

I’ve known people like you
Subtle psychopaths
Empathise until the end of the month
You could have me killed or you could have a laugh


I didn't want to say
What it is you said
I never want to do
What you did
I never want to have
Your haughty girlfriend
Industrialist cadaver
Fat-cat road-kill king of haggle

WOOOAAHHHHHRRRRRGGGGHHH
Track Name: Taste the Air
TASTE THE AIR

(All lyrics written by Adam Weston, January 2011 – March 2012)

I am alive in someone else’s brain
Running, searching expanses of shame
If it ever ends, it will always end the same
‘Cos we’re all dupes to the taste of rain

As we're jumping over synapses
Feel the voltage at the word ‘exist’
My being here does not mean I mix
All veins are the same when they’re drenched in vain


I think you need to get outside
Just to taste the air
(I think you need...)
I think you need to settle down
Need to cut your hair
(I think you need...)
You won’t survive with the idealised
Way you live your life

I think you need to go outside to taste the air


Humbled, I stumble over my ego
For starving the id, I scold, I scold
The 'ideal observer’ theory debunked
The ideal subject is what I’ve become


I think you need to step outside
Just to taste the air
(I think you need...)
QC caught sleeping on the job
You let him cut me off

The chief has euthanised me; now there’s no air to taste
My darkness was only ever ripening love, misdeemed as rot –
Nothing that can’t be fixed with an orbitoclast

I think you need to go outside to taste the air

(The 'ideal observer' theory debunked)
(The ideal subject is what I've become)