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Tomorrow's Just Fiction

by Dr. Something

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    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of A Normal Day, Light-years to the Next Star, Undertow, MissingSpace, The Transit Suite, Beaverton TC, Here Comes Count Dracula, Rustic Machinery, and 3 more. , and , .

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1.
I am the owner of an imperfect skull That floats where it never should go The mandible flees as it pleases no-body at all That reckless flight skews the bite, precipitates a fall Aah ah ah ah… (etc.) Please, can you hide deep in my joints, And lie dormant till I’m older This is not what I’d foreseen, You creep in and take over without fair warning Eyes, can you shed some of your fuzz, Let the huge sky infiltrate, Counteract stern gravity, Even if it’s just fleeting, Just momentary? I must feel every error in my bones Owner of an imperfect skull I must feel every error in my bones Owner of an imperfect skull I must feel every error in my bones Owner of an, owner of an Imperfect skull I must feel every error as my misguided condyles stray from home
2.
There are days when no one comes out to play There are seasons tainted and still There is silence no ear cannot notice When our friends are hidden or gone Shrewd abandon abandoning bodies Behind closed doors to perish or heal Can I see her, the one I held so dear? Or must I find nothing at all In that closed off room down the… How did they slip away unseen? (3x)
3.
'91 03:39
The sky turned foul one night in a thunderclap devoid of rain Particulates hovered above our town till the season turned again The ensuing weeks brought a wheezing cough, welts of spattered red on our skin Brief and vague accounts dotted the local page, but few details lay within We languished in silent and hazy fear; panic faded into unease When a week or two, and then a month or two, dulled persistent memories Still I wake at night, in a worried state, though there is no thunderous sound, Just the nagging twitch of basic nerves, unrest under the skin
4.
Foster Nitez 05:07
Woke up at Lents Transit Center on the number fourteen In a whiskey-soaked gorilla suit Driver said, “you’ve had your time, now it’s the end of the line It's time for me to give you the boot.” The harsh light of day, dampened by clouds & the rain Couldn’t nullify last night’s excess/success The pounding beat in my head matches my feet as they tread Down that dirty street that made this mess Gotta blame it... On those Foster Nitez Drinks at bingers’ price Dodging 4x4s and biker fights To get a heavy dose of life's delights, Because tomorrow's just fiction Until I can see the sun rise! Woke up in some strange bed with dynamite in my head In the sovereign state of regret, My card at the bar and my pants on the floor, Smelling like Oly and cigarettes Got dressed in a flash & made a stealthy dash From the room and down the creaky stairs, Tip-toed to the door past drunken roommates galore And embraced that cool, wet morning air Oooh those Foster Nitez Makin’ out under TV screen light Down by the carpet warehouse blight Self-destruction never felt so right, Because the crushing grind of life’s on hold Till we see the sun rise! On those Foster Nitez Drinks at bingers’ price Dodging 4x4s and biker fights To get a heavy dose of life's delights, Because tomorrow's just fiction Until I can see the sun rise!

about

Recorded in an apartment and a garage in Portland, OR the winter and spring of 2015.

credits

released May 26, 2015

Written, performed, recorded and mixed by Alison Dennis, except for drums, performed by Mike Chastain and recorded by Mike Chastain and Alison Dennis.

Mastered by Adam Gonsalves at Telegraph Mastering

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Dr. Something Portland

The project of longtime Portland songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Alison Dennis, Dr. Something uses imaginative instrumental and vocal textures alongside humorous, emotionally trenchant lyrics to create engaging chamber pop that blurs the line between art and novelty. ... more

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