adult entertainment

by shoney lamar and the equal rights

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about

recorded at zippah studios
produced by shoney lamar and the equal rights
engineered by mike davidson
all music written by shoney lamar and the equal rights
all lyrics written by shoney lamar

credits

released October 27, 2012

shoney lamar - vocals, guitar
lance riley - guitar
slowtrain carter - bass
peck - drums.

also:
natalie lowe - vocals
free jane park - violin
satan keyes - blaxophone
orion wilson - cello
adrian emberley - backup vocals
ashley hayes - hoots and hollers

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all rights reserved

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Track Name: bikini workout
i like it. we're like a couple of spoiled-rottens,
playing each others' games.
please pardon me should i ever look in yr general direction.
but i like yr hands.

if you had no hands i would cut yr hair for you.
i would smile to see yr face.
i remember the past, and last nite better.
oh sweet nectar of death...

and a heart that's yet to find it's vague resting place.
i need to share my recent craziness w/ someone.
do you want to do it? do you wanna duet?

the way you delivered my music to me...
i'd like a new foot and an old book please-and-thank-you.
and in a certain way, you certainly did.
you certainly did.
Track Name: follow that taxi
hello from prison. and if you listen,
you are listening to a ghost that doesn't exist yet.
then i do.
i have no name. call me what you will, if you want,
if you must. then you do.
you call me mad martigan. and i play that part again
like i been doin it for years.
cos i have. yr dealing w/ an old pro.

but pay attention. and bring protection.
because i promise, there's a plot twist.
i got a pitch for you and here's the premise:
we pick out plenty pretty princesses.
i pick a partner. i pick apart her.
i part her hair for her. make repairs for her.
and i prepare her for preposterous big business
by paying people to witness witnesses.
yea that's what i do.

i'm paranoid i'm being paranoid,
but listen i'm insistent.
this is an awful lot of coincidences.
incidents and instances pile up, but shut up.
either get in the back seat, or follow that taxi.
then you do

and yes. i'm out on the edge. but friends,
there's nobody else out here. somebody gotta be out here.
so i do. i tried it once just like you, tried it once in high school.
and for rite now, i like:
pretty much every pretty thing about pretty you.

but there's a problem. cos nuthins realer,
nobody's callin but my dealer.
is it ironic or appropriate?
why am i alone? why don't i know you yet?
and are you crazy? because i am.
and it's apparent that we must party.
and it appears that you a pretty
so the party must be starting.
but we'll probly soon be parting
because our party friends are partied out.
part of the problem is we probly promised them
that we would probably probably just part ways
until part two. cos that's what we do.

i'm paranoid i'm being paranoid,
but listen i'm insistent.
this is an awful lot of coincidences.
incidents and instances pile up, but shut up.
either get in the back seat, or follow that taxi.
then you do
Track Name: back that thing up
smokin one of peck's cigarettes.
trynna find the damn green room,
thing must be see-thru.
and it is, like parlor tricks.
sick sick sex w/ computer effects.
ain't you heard?
we are the new kings of new york.
we run it, and we're ready to commit.
violently laughing. doing drugs
and we don't know what happened.
but we just make art and fuck.

"you live and learn" she said.
"no i don't" i said.
"i don't do either of those things.
plus i see in 3-D."
she politely reminded me
so does fuckn everybody.
she come inside, we get a little explicit.
i give her the look
and she's like "what is it?"
wanna shoot some guns while we fuck?
let's try it out. yea, let's just try it out.
she was like, "okay"

ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod,
you just mispronounced bourgeouise.
i think you can't spell faux pas.
i know you can't spell faux pas.
i think you don't know what laissez-faire means.
and i know you can't fit in them skinny little jeans
w/o a little help from me.
so woman: back that thing up.

and then turn it loose. pull it down. gimme the scissors.
i'll cut loose for ya. i will snip it off. cut it loose,
get it out there for the people.
we gotta please the people.

can you see me, baby? w/ my extra face skin
tucked in under a chaffed chin to look thin.
grinning grinning grinning grinning.
razorbladed, brazen, hazy, faded. overrated.

this isn't art. this is war.
we are not artists. we're bored and we're poor
so for fuck's sake
we are going to the bar.
where we can have so much fun being sad w/ our friends,
mad at our friends who didn't come.
and get drunk w/ some people who are not our friends.
who get in yr face, spit in yr face
trynna talk to you about some things
that you do not even care about.
and i don't care where yr sister lives.
and i don't know what time it is.
could give a fuck about politics.
the problem is you smell like socks, waste.

got yr face in my face. got yr face in my face
but listen, listen:
back that thing up.

back that thing up if you wanna keep it cleaned up.
you do the right thing, man.
you be like "okay"
Track Name: authorities
denise says i need more human interaction
than the bar, the band. "look at all the beer that's in the trashcan."
and i know it's my fault. but i won't apologize for my boredom.
for having problems a fuck won't fix.
is this it? is this all i'm gonna get?
i'm gonna quit. don't even like it. i'ma try to get by it.

laughing, crying, covered in blood.
i don't know what happened, i was just having some fun.
now i'm laughing, crying, covered in blood.
authorities: come and get me.

i'm on zero hours sleep and i will shower when i'm dead.
go ahead, delouse my lousy body. busy boys deserve a rest.
and what's left is the best of my restless soul.
a desperate mess w/ parenthetical goals.

laughing, crying, covered in blood.
i don't know what happened, i was just having some fun.
now i'm laughing, crying, covered in blood.
authorities: come and get me.

let's hush up. let's shut up about it.
let's hush up. shut up until you come and get me.

no. we can't date. i would destroy you. avoid you.
annoy you. poison you. baby, i would just toy w/ you.
and we would never break up, because i refuse to break.
but i'll bend, make amends, smile, make mistakes seem fake.
i'll let belts give me welts cos i smell only rats
and i'm poor, slingin cheap drinks to geriatric brats.
until i'm smiling, til i'm healthy, til i get myself clean
until then, i won't stop being relentlessly mean.

laughing, crying, covered in blood.
i don't know what happened, i was just having some fun.
now i'm laughing, crying, covered in blood.
authorities: come and get me.

let's hush up. let's shut up about it.
let's hush up. let's just not talk about it.
let's shut up about it. just shut up about.
just shut up til you come and get me.
you come and get me.
Track Name: lazybones
i wanna cash in, baby, give me the money.
i wanna cash in. i wanna cash in.

dressed in all black, going to the beach
to pretend we are ghosts in our best sheets.
and now we need a tow and all you need to know is:
we were hangin out w/ she-males, stingy w/ the details.

i'm a lover yr a motherfucker.
i think we'd make a pretty dangerous team.
i foresee us behaving poorly and boring each other to death
and all you gotta do is act now.
eugene, put that axe down.

the goddess is coming.
look busy, do something.
come w/ me or else you will be taken out and shot.

that's why we shake our lazybones.
that's why we shake it, shake it.
that's why we shake our lazy....
i wanna cash in. i wanna cash in.
Track Name: space jam 3
i started out okay.
then art got a hold of me.
i started cigarettes. started having sex.
taking percocets.
no secrets, no regrets. YES.
and i love you, yea i love you.

the sound of my love goes: LUB DUB LUB DUB.
i'd like a girl like me who more than likely
does the rite thing and does it writhing.
i'd be like "i love you, yea, i love you."

elegy for an other me.
IT'S BORING. THEY'RE SNORING.
don't bother telling me yr corny love story.
YOU BORE ME.

let me just sit and be.
don't you provide me w/ a goddam thing.
biggie: i wish i knew you.
i coulda taught you how to play the guitar.
and i love you, dude, yea, i love you.

we coulda wrote the black sound of music.
but don't bother looking back.
screw that. cos who's that? WHO'S THAT??

and if you pirate my shit it's not that i care so much,
but fuck you. really. FUCK YOU.
come over to my place. do it to my face.
but i love you, yea, i love you.
it's because i love you, yea
i love you too.
Track Name: a touchy subject
i was always a touchy subject: ugly. obsessed. always upset.
i knew we'd never make it and i take that hatred nakedly to the stage w/ me.
+ pointin fingers is pointless but the point is: you changed me. you made me hate me.

and now we really need to leave cos we can't fall asleep at this kind of party.
these seem like dangerous strangers.

i know i put you thru torture, you poor unfortunate things that have to deal w/ me.
but are you gonna cry if i try to fly, nearly die, + you gotta save my life?
cos my idea of a good time is watching my life spiral wildly out of control.

and now we really need to leave cos we can't fall asleep at this kind of party.
these seem like dangerous strangers.

+ then i get surprised at the size of the sight of my life rite before my eyes.

and now we really need to leave cos we can't fall asleep at this kind of party.
these seem like dangerous strangers.

we talk and it begins.
we talk w/ confidence.
we become better friends,
after some compliments.
then there's an accident,
due to just happenstance.
then we're no longer friends
and i need cigarettes.
Track Name: vegas
me- joan, how have you been?

joan - i been better kid.

me - how i howl, how i dance round my apartment w/ imaginary you.
what do i do?

joan - you leave yr windows open, let them look.

me - i let them lurk in the corners of my t.v. room.
where we make waste.

joan - we oughtta be making haste.
we should escape.

us - let's not just drink these beers.

me - let's get famous.

joan - famous.

me - famous.

us - let's go make us some money.
let's sign some contracts and relax.

me - here comes joan. lookin like a hot slice.

joan - you may need some ice.

me - and joan, have you ever felt truly alone?

joan - skin and bone,

me - unknown

joan - w/ a phone that refuses to ring.

me - let's get famous

joan - famous.

me - famous..

us - they gonna make us into a movie.
let's sign some contracts and relax.

me - cos i'm broke.
hahano. i'm broke.

us - let's get a gun, let's paint it red.
let's give it head.
you know, just have some fun fun fun.

me - and joan, that's why yr my foxy fix.
let's write some hits.

joan - but if i stay inside all day
i may kill myself.

me - nah, let's just kill everyone else
and get famous.

joan - famous.

me - i'm gonna make us some money.
cos i'm broke.

us - i'm broke.
Track Name: beer and loathing in the financial district
tonite ended w/ a whimper.
uncouth. unclean. baby, we differ.

and here's that stupid voice inside my stupid head
sayin, "must stay true, don't lose youth, re-view spoon,
ya got a bad back and a bad front too.
regret this or forget this.
you must choose."

fewer words have never been spoken.
it sux but it's true: nuthin stays golden.
it's exhausting.
meal after meal, wheels within wheels.

and i was all couched out on the floor, bugged out, like,
"why are walls always white? how is it nobody has a light?
how is that even possible. relieve me."

you know me: can't afford to be crazy.
can't leave home. can't go home.

and i brazenly say "yr eyes look cooked" and give you head.
while beside us, emma gets it out on the sofa.
you watch my eyes slowly glaze over.
i adjust. i suck. i deserve resin.

you know me: can't afford to be crazy.
can't leave home. can't go home.
cos i gotta go to work...

where i'm baggy-eyed on some elevator,
trying not to puke. god, don't let me puke.
smiles for lying secretaries who stare at me,
not as though i do not exist, but as though
it does not matter.
but you look good, mama.
GIMME THAT PURSE.

you know me: can't afford to be crazy.
can't leave home. can't go home.

later on, i'm able to laugh from afar.
an unexpected calm washes over the bar.
but not for long.
just 2 shots long, band starts in.

and i'm trying to talk to my friend,
but he's staring at this tits-and-ass chick playing pool.
and who can blame him?
i want to stare into the abyss too.
i want to fit my vices nicely in a black plastic bag.
can't you see? don't you see?
this is not a bar. this is a graveyard.
and i gotta get out.

you know me: can't afford to be crazy.
can't leave home. can't go home. can't go home.