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Signs for the Blind

by Plainspoke




Written and recorded in a single day as a motivational tool. Serves as a thematic sequel to Echoes of Dead Men.

Bonus track with every download.


released 21 September 2013

Lyrics by Plainspoke. Artwork by D. Sitarz.
The Alchemist - Mafata
Big Macs - Duggi
Count Your Fears - ZayRock
Signs for the Blind - Handbook
Matchsticks - Silas Is Dead
Mr. Lincoln - Plainspoke



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Track Name: The Alchemist
Like Midas, I touch what turns to gold, guide us toward the pot to grow,
the pasta bowl that's infinite like god would know
Like I would know my mystery, eyes are bloodshot blister pleased,
I fist the beat, it's an errand, done it before when no one was staring
a plentiful bore for plentiful boys, planning for toys that been other boys
A fan of a foisted love endorsed by damsels in distress
those who take you for colors and leave you redacted at best

the alchemist know the way

the path to fame and fortune, lead by dwarfing mountains morphed in
moistened towellettes and sex tapes in blurred family portraits
last dates and first kisses, doctor visits and black eye stitches
a book read and thrown aside, truth be told it was all lies
a move to gloat about the light lost inside the tunnel's life
there's nothing left inside, nothing left there out to sign
that's what they're about to find
Track Name: Matchsticks
I was born a catholic, then I became a catfish
Once fooled, twice shy,
Where we stand and when it goes, when it blows,
it's wind self-imposed and overlaid on virgin toast
and marmalade like dominoes in their last parade,
a common ghost of overlooking the common denomination made
and took it, got the bookies on the take, the maiden voyage never made it's way
across the frozen lake,
I found the gold flake, discovered it was fake, and made them taste it, the old medicine of play
confessed I left a part of my self-control, some called it indestructible, at sight it's a combusted vestibule of hope
shatters every sign of luck from here, this side of a hall of mirrors
but fuck it, I'm busy self-destructing, got my mittens stolen by the man that told me it was only holy if I go bare, blind and deaf
this way to lift the weights of death
and never say a word of happened, least not yet

I was born a catholic, then I became a catfish
Once fooled, twice shy, now I'm made of matchsticks
some of the boys made bets against each other hoping to best their altar brothers
open a chest of rotting flesh, first to cry will lose the ties of the rest, bursted eye they called it fast, forget the tears when he calls to pass
got the fear before you're known to be the fearful, written off as boys will be boys when you get that earful
but some of the girls made bets against their sisters, sitting in their jumpers while they read the will of some dead mister
bow down for the all-seeing beast-man, to take this from our hands and in the ground lies the reasons
we stand for that free-fall, controlled by the ropes that we will later recall and fill the hole with dirt and sand
hide the rotting flesh in a box inside the earth, concrete to protect and steel to lift the curse
contain the souls for no escape, tethered to their holy gates, forever just defines their place

I was born a catholic, then I became a catfish
Once fooled, twice shy, now I'm made of matchsticks
Track Name: Count Your Fears
Talk to me like I've got something on my mind, walking round a wish-it-well, dropping in all my dimes
And I'd wish you well, but I've not got the time, ring my bell when it's time to dine, and I'm busy selling all my chimes to the wind that blows the way I sign

I missed the boat so I walk on the water, to cross the pond looking for monsters,
he drops the bomb on his mother and father, or they drop the bomb for the bullet's commerce
to prevent war from happening he makes it and says it's sad but he can't stop once he's started to back it in
he packs it in and made these robots with parts that are departed, he knows his home is haunted and bought it for bargains
to burn it down so no one ever knows the sound of no and never, goes in clever, comes out dumb and wasted, strung up puppets played in mazes for the fun of painted faces

From the basement to the attic, I'm a face in the shattered mirrors
Ghosts in all these houses, follow them and count your fears

I fixed the boat and made an offer, tethered to that postman's coffer,
tip jar for cops and robbers to play their part as awkward paupers, the cops and robbers of western fathers
of pop's and mom's shop full of pots and pans that never wash or use again, that never cause a cancer in a simple answering,
a single hand syringe, to shoot up that heroin, I'm afraid there's no place for him, set to the tune of the tv, the safest place to be is the ceiling
on dvd, when everyone is a demon to be

one moon from a werewolf, one blood sucker from a vampire,
one car from a buick 8, one scar from you's too late to put out the damn fire
Track Name: Signs for the Blind
caught me sifting through the sand of my manhood, the handbook you can't look at, top secret method cooking
cook us up a lawsuit, trying to sue that law's suit, that talking head that saw you through the tv got your rocks loose,
marbles rolling sideways in that bed head of rhetoric, the red dress and red lips of redrum run through bad gifs
bless him says the father of the man that is the child, says the quote to live by wordsworth the time of day in miles

I'm a mercenary bird perched to shit on my target, some people and some cars and some windows to catharsis
find it hard to buy the part with the parking lot of hardships, some cars are garbage and others fresh off the market
and parking meters served by meter maids that work to feed their meter maids in some convoluted curse of keeping cake
just to eat it later, so they say as I watch their birthday's play out, blown candles and presents wrapped in fabric handles make
for ways to bail south for winter, but winners don't give up, they learn to fail and pick themselves a worm from the big crutch

the kid loves his blocks to build with, it's all he's got, when all about the building are plots to scheme to kill them
from the cops to the kinsmen, are brothers with love for minions, and mothers that must give them the child on the cusp of crimson flood
they must kill him because he's about to build a bomb, to blow the world to bits, would you kill him if it meant to save your own skin?

These signs for the blind in the mind of the sighted, some call it shining and others try to fight it
These signs for the blind in the mind of the sighted, some call it shining and others are undecided

How do you find the piece to fit the puzzle when they all look the same and none are less the puzzle
Got the rain made in factories with batteries to strike the lightning, thunder made in speakers lodged under bikes
typing me and i and they again, repeated like a prayer to send nowhere but the barren ends
to mean an average there depends on nabbing hares as fast as rabbits, when we're slow as tortoises living out our retirements in madness

These signs for the blind in the mind of the sighted, some call it shining and others try to fight it
These signs for the blind in the mind of the sighted, some call it shining and others are undecided
Track Name: Big Macs
Stuff my face, fit to bleed an iron fist of an anchored sea
The angered sea sees a violent breed of a mutt, meaning I don't give a fuck,
meaning I got a cup full of liquor that I keep cold, for when I club with my slither
Meaning I'm a snake the way I wither and wilt, the flowers live longer than the thick skins I've built
I fill the pail with the teardrops collected when the fears stop, collect call my dear god, working for the fearmonger
the warmonger, the bee sting, the wasp nest in that beasts hymn, we're opsec for the free limbs, and cloth steps for demons
caught in your season of ill-will you kill bill, just thought
I'd give a ring to rule them all, the bind the ties that bind behind the backs
now eat your big macs

Ronald McDonald got his hands in all the big stacks
Keep them high, eat all those big macs x4

High as the Hindenburg, explode premature like the man that got his penis in his her
Sinister, guinness third world record sermon for the semen, exorcize the demons in the serum
for perm, house of leaves falling in the hands of germ herbalists, serve a list of purging bliss
to pacify the murderous and pass the time to earn a bit of time back, then waste all that time slack on the way to eclipse
twilight looks like that when you wait for it to lift
and wait for it to split down the middle like an ass crack of moon pies, that you buy to do mindless, ask if you quit buying this, would you get behind it or get spineless in defense, now eat those tens

Ronald McDonald got his hands in all the big stacks
Keep them high, eat all those big macs x8

Clap on, clap off, one shot to rap soft about bad dolls and absolve yourself from pavlov's dog
but on call you come back, no change of plan to give a fuck less, like the dog is god in man's clothing
sand in your rosy cheeks, a stand-in for what nobody needs and so many deem a lonely lift, clothe me in shit
floating on some pricks, how funny it is to click and leave fast as I have to breathe
while the master reads the news just to pass to me, chew on all the plastic meat and I fast on cheese that lasts for weeks
so called potatoes are the last to leave, plastered in the paydirt like the bones that they pack with me
now eat your peas