Demo [2020]

by Tapioca

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about

Recorded January, 2020 at Circle A. Studios. Mixed and Engineered by Cody Baresich.
Artwork and lyrics created by M. X.

credits

released January 5, 2020

M. K. J - Guitar.
A. D - Drums.
M. X. - Vocals/ Lyrics.

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about

Tapioca Victoria, British Columbia

We went from being,
to having,
to appearing ...

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Track Name: Intro (To Live)
夏天是金色的,朝圣的桃子
许愿就让我继续活着儿吧
干花压在日记里,保存好
腐烂前,灾难前,自私之前
小事儿里含个个遗书
荒谬里,继续的原因
摧毁唯独的森林之前给我们太阳
但愿人长久,不要离开我
歌颂的杀手是谁,
歌颂的祖国建立在谁的战场上?
(The summer is golden, like dynastic peaches,
With your miracle id desire to continue living
Dried flowers pressed between journal pages, preserved well
Before decay, before disaster, before the selfishness
My death wish lies within the the quiet things
Within the outlandishness, the reason to go on
Before demolishing the forest please give us the sun
I wish for eternal mankind, please don't leave me
Who is the murderer we praise?
Whose battlefield is our beloved country built upon?)

We went from being, to having, to appearing

Hands the strength of dead leaves
Crunching against my skin
Cartographers bending the compass
Enough to snake right through
A map of myself larger than life
Poised on the table, edible arrangement
Physical form humiliating, draining into you
I have been touched, i have been touched
My youth is fleeting, my youth is fleeting
Track Name: Rimbaud
As I was floating down unconcerned Rivers
I no longer felt myself steered by the haulers:
Into the ferocious tide-rips
Last winter, more absorbed than the minds of children,
I ran! And the unmoored Peninsulas
Never endured more triumphant clamourings
The storm made bliss of my sea-borne awakenings.
For ten nights, without once missing the foolish eye of the harbor lights!
Sweeter than the flesh of sour apples to children,
The green water penetrated my pinewood hull
And washed me clean of the bluish wine-stains and the splashes of vomit,
Carrying away both rudder and anchor.
And from that time on I bathed in the Poem
Of the Sea, star-infused and churned into milk,
Devouring the green azures; where, entranced in pallid flotsam,
A dreaming drowned man sometimes goes down;
Where, suddenly dyeing the bluenesses, deliriums
And slow rhythms under the gleams of the daylight,
Stronger than alcohol, vaster than music
Ferment the bitter rednesses of love!
I have come to know the skies splitting with lightnings, and the waterspouts
And the breakers and currents; I know the evening,
And Dawn rising up like a flock of doves,
I have seen the low-hanging sun speckled with mystic horrors.
Lighting up long violet coagulations,
Like the performers in very-antique dramas
Waves rolling back into the distances their shiverings of venetian blinds!
I have dreamed of the green night of the dazzled snows
The kiss rising slowly to the eyes of the seas,
The circulation of undreamed-of saps,
And the yellow-blue awakenings of singing phosphorus!
I have followed, for whole months on end
I have struck, do you realize, incredible Floridas
Downfalls of waters in the midst of the calm
And distances cataracting down into abysses!
Glaciers, suns of silver, waves of pearl, skies of red-hot coals!
- Foam of flowers rocked my driftings
And at times ineffable winds would lend me wings.
The sea whose sobs sweetened my rollings
Lifted its shadow-flowers with their yellow sucking disks toward me
And I hung there like a kneeling woman...
Lichens of sunlight [mixed] with azure snot,
Who ran, speckled with lunula of electricity,
A crazy plank, with black sea-horses for escort,
When Julys were crushing with cudgel blows
Skies of ultramarine into burning funnels;
- Do you sleep, are you exiled in those bottomless nights,
Million golden birds, O Life Force of the future? -
But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking.
Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter:
Sharp love has swollen me up with heady langours.
O let my keel split! O let me sink to the bottom!
If there is one water in Europe I want, it is the
Black cold pool where into the scented twilight
A child squatting full of sadness, launches
A boat as fragile as a butterfly in May.
I can no more, bathed in your langours, O waves,
Sail in the wake of the carriers of cottons,
Nor undergo the pride of the flags and pennants,
Nor pull past the horrible eyes of the hulks.
Track Name: Sympathy for...
The stars are glittering maggots, Rabbit houses in the woods tucked under rotting bark and moss, impossibly quiet and impossibly peaceful. my body is going to melt through the 5th floor tax office and the toxicity will leak onto the clinic on the 4th. I actively participate in the degradation of my own body.
The inevitability of violence, violence, violence. Living deprived of miracles, deprived of intent.
废除你,我厌倦真诚,我不做爱,我是画皮,以内是妖怪的尸体,腐烂了,腐烂了。值得剥削的部分镂空了,只剩下贱嘴,呕吐创伤(床上)。身体漂浮在海上,波浪形的葬礼,才叫做真诚。
(Abandoned you because i despise genuinity. I dont make love, i am a painted skin, within containing the corpse of a decaying, decaying, monster. All parts worth exploitation already taken advantage of, all that remains is this bitch mouth, vomiting trauma (on the bed). Body floating on the sea, wave-shaped funeral, thats true genuinity.)
Track Name: Will Not Sing For You
我的尊严含在口中,玉盘,春水
烟火冉冉升起,背后一个帝国在拆迁我的家
战乱的寒冬,眼肿,我看不见康复
太阳屠杀了明天
所以,我不给你唱
产生伤口不能动摇我
我不会对法西斯低头哈腰
我是一场戏,我是一首歌
真实碰不到的一种寒梅
你不会留我的头
但是看不见摸不着的是一种
愤怒和伤痛凝固在一起的决心
灭不了
×2

(My dignity in my mouth, jade plate, spring dew
Smoke snaking through air, imperials tearing apart my home behind me
War torn bitter winter, swollen eyes, no longer visualizing recovery
The sun massacred the tomorrow
For these reasons i will never sing for you
No matter how much pain you make for me
Ill never bow to a fascist
I am an opera, i am a song
A type of winter plum untouchae by reality
You would never save my head
But there is an immaterial type of
Determination, that is anger and bitterness solidified
That cannot be extinguished)
Track Name: 凌迟
怎样才能属于雾霾严重?怎样才是太恶劣,太残忍,太痛苦?你拆迁了我的家,代替了我屋檐儿下的方言,我舌头上的歌儿。你粉碎了我的久意念,我的胸怀里只有刺。苦海逃脱不掉吗?埋在土里心经还会唱吗?北京在燃烧,没有老家可归。水旁,我听见何震,蜻蜓,呐喊,支那暗杀团,木棉树的独居。圆月,方院儿,千里共婵娟。水泥上的水笔字干掉了,雾霾天儿,看不见了。
(What can be categorized as severe smog? What is too violent, too tragic, too painful? You ripped up my family home, replaced the dialect under my roof, the song on my tongue. You smashed my old ideas, my chest now only filled with spines. Is the bitter sea inescapable? Can the heart sutra be sung even buried in dirt? Beijing is burning, there is no home for me. By the water i hear he zheng (earthquakes), dragonflies, na han (screams of desperation), the sina assasination group, the cotton wood tree's solitude. The water calligraphy on concrete has dried, under the smog, invisible.)
Inevitable continuity, its only religious like the rest of the catalogue, boring and bland. Ive been thinking about usurping every authority ever since the 7th guy jumped off that building on campus. why is the sky full of birds? Those arent birds, those are smog paperweights. those arent signs of hope, they are here to take my family away. Cantalope, made out of desert sand. Social credit, made out of lasers and shovels. White treasure mountain, serial killer shovels, anarchist assasins.
I know about the furniture youve placed under the sun, about punching in to work 10 minutes late, about chewing stolen perscription meds that taste like chalk. There is compelling evidence that none of this matters the slightest to the man marking my thesis. Do not sing, i am a good farmer, tokens to refrigerate my past, refrigerate my past. Only vapid self assured pacifiers, winter melons, greyscale downturn. Tyrants toppled and egos killed, the slaughter of vampyric selfishness sucking manic blood. Iron and steel, rice and rations, cloth shoes and batons, battalions of monks, 56 flowers, 56 hearts
Track Name: World Under My Fingernail (Fear of God cover)
there are these days in my life when i’d rather disappear,
my eyes don’t see no good and my mind is about to explode
oh why can’t i live another life far away on a distant planet?
where everything would be right and nothing could do me harm?
i know there’s a world - under my fingernail, a world i will never get to see
right under my fingernail, because I myself am trapped - under a fingernail
and my dreams dream silently on - under my fingernail
world under my fingernail, where my dreams are reality
world under my fingernail - why can’t I live another life?

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