Pistol to the Head of the Modern Man

by Manalive

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Recorded Summer 2012 at CDR Studios, Milltown NJ


released September 4, 2012



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Manalive New Brunswick, New Jersey


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Track Name: Collateral Damage
Status the growth industry they say will smash through this recession. Devious designs for mass appeal that are marketed to millions. Vanity compels us to pursue next years model around the bend yet still we feel the need to consume. We wish we could have it all. Free from guilt. Our eyes are closed, no need to dodge the bill that’s coming due. We wish we could have it all, free from guilt, ignoring hexane cripples in Suzhou who clean the machine I’m tracking to my porch. Every day a delivery, produced by persecution. I won’t tell a lie, it fills my eyes with glee, to wrap my fingers around the trophy that makes me feel unique.
Track Name: Franny and Zooey
It’s not that I can’t sleep. It’s simply that I choose not to. With my mind paralyzed by false paradigms I’ve wasted too much of my time deaf and blind. It’s not that we can’t dream. It’s simply that we forgot how. With the weight of the world on our minds and our lives we put progress on hold just to survive. Day by day hope atrophies, inert husks remain at rest. Keep your eyes on the prize, it can happen any time a spark can arise to open our eyes. Take action though you can’t see what result could possibly ensue. Winds of change flow from butterfly wings and good things come to those who push for truth. Take Action. Be the change that you want to see. Take action. Live the life that you want to lead. Wrap your fingers around any simple bliss you can conceive. It’s not that we can’t scream. It’s simply that we’re afraid to. Unfetter our minds pull wool from our eyes rebuild a world we’ve begun to despise. It’s not that we can’t change. It’s simply we never tried to. A new day will arise up on the horizon the potential is there open your eyes. We stand together weighed down by an anchor of inherited guilt. Put it down, put away your pain, held down by the past consumed with disdain. A new day is rising open your eyes. A new day is rising...
Track Name: Pilate Party
Thirty pieces of silver, fifteen minutes of fame, a moment of truth. Judas taking office and Pilate getting paid. Barely conceal their laughter, smirking all the way to the bank while we lose our jobs and homes. Left and right alike, our standard of living erodes. We tear each other to shreds the leaders of our country are plotting up new ways to keep us at each others throats. Family values a pyramid scheme, a shell game designed to ensure we never win a seat at the table. We need a new dialogue. Begin a new debate. Our economy almost collapsed, crime, fraud incompetence on a massive scale. As we fight about the right to choose, who’s going to hell, and who marries who. Who’s on drugs, who’s soft on gangs we cast our vote for mannequins, who strike the right pose to harvest election wins.
Track Name: Bloodlust
Hubris the original sin. Pride taken to illogical extremes. A wicked grin spread across my face. Blood lust. Discourse lies crippled in shame clubbed into submission by our ethical tirades. First amendment privilege as a slap in the face. Blood lust. I must strive to remember that this is not a battlefield. Engage and Discuss. You are not my enemy. If your morality should disgust me let me be reminded that the strength of my convictions is never proof I’m right. Close my mind, but you’ll never be the villain in the story of your life. Still it’s true I’m consumed by the urge to run you through and let your blood spill. Blood lust, but you are not my enemy.
Track Name: Immolation
Close my eyes shake my head it’s a race to the bottom and we’re tripping up ourselves. We passed out. Collapsed down. Consuming poison. Foolish, we risk our health as snake oil vendors promise fast acting change. Quick fix solutions accelerate decay. Faced with a choice between charismatic ignorance and intellectual elite. The only choice that makes any sense at all is to wipe the slate clean. Faced with a choice between self indulgent apathy and ineffectual preaching. The only choice that makes any sense to me is to burn it down and start again. When I look at me looking at life so cynically the only course of action I can see. Burn it down.
Track Name: Identity Crisis
Fuck your expectations of who we should be based on what we were born to. Fuck your prejudicial world view I am an individual not an equation. Look at me. I am not a formula boiled down to privilege minus oppression. Everyone you meet all the information you attain bolsters assumptions you’ll never throw away. Construct your identity. Everything you want to be. If you think that extends to me. You’ll be my fucking enemy. I am I.