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lyrics

Piggy's wearing window frames on his face
And I'm stuck in my own mind, thinking of leaving this place
The mud is knee deep, I'm trying to pull my foot out
I must've left my soul up on that Apple scented mountain

Lightning strikes the burial plot
The horses ride, the wooden chariots rot
All in the name of nefarious plots
Painting the walls with the carrion swatch

Splattered with the blood of innocence
"No matter" as he wipes it with his handkerchief
"They take it up with God" he says,
Cleaning his crucifix
The lowly thumping pistons beneath him

Pro-Anti-Civility, choking down love-speech
I took my summer vacation down at sludge beach
They taught me the basics, then they tossed us to the wolves
And some of the others tried to make a living selling wool

Piggy's wearing window frames on his face
And I'm stuck in my own mind, thinking of leaving this place
The mud is knee deep, I'm trying to pull my foot out
I must've left my soul up on that Apple scented mountain

Flashing light through the prism in the windshield
I wait for you to leave and then I'm digging through the bin
Pulling out staples, I continue to lurk
I'm folding up papers, and hiding them in my shirt

"Um, no response" I restate my question
And now we're in your car heading down to the west end
The room is a wreck, you shift into park
There's so much darkness around us, but too much light to go dark

Piggy's watching from the window upstairs
I'm down by the banks running water through my hair
There's an imposter among us, he's lying in the wait
And you're still in the bathroom with a towel around your waist

Pro-Anti-Civility, choking down love-speech
I took my summer vacation down at sludge beach
They taught me the basics, then they tossed us to the wolves
And some of the others tried to make a living selling wool

Piggy's wearing window frames on his face
And I'm stuck in my own mind, thinking of leaving this place
The mud is knee deep, I'm trying to pull my foot out
I must've left my soul up on that Apple scented mountain

credits

from SONGS OF ISOLATION, released October 1, 2021

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about

Blue Hole Lynden, Washington

A one man project creating a unique brand of transcendental astral pop existing beyond the boundaries of convention, Blue Hole is auditory bliss conceived for the purpose of mind expansion and hallucinatory replication/substitution.

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