Get all 18 Cannonball Statman releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Hard to Break, Icepick (9th Anniversary Remaster), Miracle on Neon Clown Avenue, Rhinoceros Crossing, Interdimensional Ice Cream Cake, Modern Elephants, Playing Dead, Outa / Orda, and 10 more.
1. |
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The other night, I met a man with one hand,
he asked me to roll a joint for him;
it’s not easy to roll anything
with one hand.
He had some kind of a face
with a Venusian mask on it;
some kind of a mask
imposed on his face,
waiting for the G train at Hoyt-Schermerhorn
at four in the morning,
where my dog
and everybody waiting on the train platform sat and stared
at everything, or something,
becoming nothing,
a subway conductor in the corner
moved the universe with her hands, and said,
“somebody just walked into this train station,
jumped onto the train tracks,
and just, like that, started
flatlining,”
and my dog,
and everybody waiting on the train platform sat and stared
at everything, or something,
becoming nothing,
a subway masturbator in the corner
milked himself with his hands, and said,
“I’ve never seen anything like this before;
but I’ve never seen anything
waiting for the G train at Hoyt-Schermerhorn
at four in the morning.”
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2. |
Saturn Youth
02:08
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My dog took a lot of LSD,
and fell asleep, mysteriously,
and none of my friends ever listen to me
when I say I need somebody.
And the power’s out;
the devil’s living in your apartment,
in the thunderstorm,
in these coldest days.
Riddled with anxiety,
my band put out our new CD,
but we’re sick of the music industry;
all they wanna do is take our money.
And the drummer’s gone, he’s on the run.
You’re locked out of your own apartment;
you’re broke, tired, and hungry in America.
You’re dying alone in America.
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3. |
Skyscraper
05:20
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At night,
running through the air,
through landscapes of our eyes;
there is something else
behind these walls and doors
leading into breakfast at night.
All I wanna do is
jump through the floor;
didn't you when you'd just woke up?
A party is starting at night,
and the lonely lounge club singers
become physically demented,
while the man behind the wall
is dying in a room of saturated blues
and cigarette smoke illuminated by
black and white camera flashes
from photographers in tuxedoes.
They said a hospital at night
inside a tall lifeless building
is fluorescent greens and pale walls;
somebody in a gown
loses all character inside of 'em
at the sight of a syringe,
but manages to remain calm
in front of doctors
waiting for the next parade of infants
to march in their doors.
All they're gonna do is
break the law;
didn't you when you'd just come into this world?
He died on the street that night,
fueled by the messages on the billboards
starring signs of the apocalypse
and silver screen dreams of a last chance
at his road to fame through the back entrance
of the theater where the rocket ship went off;
and the ashes of Hi8 video tapes of the crash
sent him back to bed,
waiting for the window to open up into the sky.
He was no more;
his soul sinking into the stained cement,
in the raindrops
in the mud
in the friends with mouths wide open,
and the bluest sky
from the oceans of all their entire lives,
at night.
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4. |
Snow Globe
05:05
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We live in different time zones.
We take the same train
to see the mailman;
he lives between us.
You live on the other side
of the town we live in.
It likes to snow on my side.
I like to talk to your side,
but I don't talk to you
because you don't talk back
except to say "hello"
and more importantly "goodbye."
Something really amazing is going on in my life
that I can't describe in words.
Something really frightening is going on in my life
that I can't describe in words,
and I can't describe it in words.
We live in different time zones.
We get up on the same days;
see the same big bright sun,
but it isn't setting.
We pick the same apples
from a different place.
They have a different taste
depending on where you eat them.
Would you like to take a ride to the other side of town?
Your life is a school of sacred music.
I can still hear you sometimes
singing through the treetops
in my old neighborhood,
where the power's almost always out,
and the people watch the sunset
sitting in the park,
drinking heineken,
smoking cigarettes,
and laughing and dying like old friends.
You are as old as time,
and I'm a little bit older than you;
I can still see you sometimes
sitting on the stoop
outside your old building,
dreaming of fire
and words we never said.
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5. |
Branch
04:56
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I am walking in the park, in autumn,
in evening, and I see
nothing.
For a second, I love it, again.
You know, I don’t know, and
it’s hard to know,
but you know,
and I know.
I could talk to one of these trees,
they wouldn’t talk back;
these don’t talk back.
You used to talk back to me,
and I know out there somewhere there’s a
branch connected to you,
but it’s not me;
it’s not me.
This is around the time of year,
everyone is shifting;
so take control.
Talk in words.
It’s so strange;
you took my
branch.
Don’t give in
when the hell of this house is leaving you alone.
Don’t give in
when the hell of your house is leaving you alone.
Don’t give in
to the demands of your other collection.
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6. |
Beautiful, Terrifying
03:17
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Your Facebook page knows more about you than you do
in your dreams;
in your dreams, there’s a man they call “the Mass Disturbance
from the Uncharted Corridors of Known Existence.”
Let’s all sit on top of this table;
stare into space,
screaming, “I’m a little bit crazy;
I might be a whole lot crazier than you.”
Yesterday, you rode the train with the Man in the Vampire Suit;
I told you he was real, but nobody knows!
It’s a strange, beautiful, fucked up world.
The gold vest became a useless cover;
he took it off,
threw it under the Arctic Circle, screaming,
“I’ve had all those dreams,
beautiful and terrifying,
about you, and the Man in the Vampire Suit
came by yesterday;
says he’s been listening in to your refrigerator again.
He’s checked into the motel in the center of town,
drinking coffee to fuel his brain,
and his sights are set on you,
but one day, his eyes are gonna fall out,
glued to you for too long.”
Your friends just wanna play around with strange girls,
and leave them for dead, when they find out
they’ve got brains living in their heads.
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7. |
No Spine
05:43
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I’ve got no spine.
I don’t sleep, I just get high,
sit down, and make you work.
I joined the DSA ‘cause I wanna get laid.
It’s not exploitation if you don’t get paid.
I want a landlord in the sheets, indentured servant in the streets;
internal contradictions are good for business.
But my computer thinks you’re strange.
The change in your pocket wasn’t enough to pay my rent;
so you’ll sleep on the train.
The new Mussolini’s gonna get it running on time.
How can I cash in on this great train?
I wanna move up!
I’ve got no spine.
I don’t breathe, I just gentrify,
and keep turning a blind eye.
She can’t go to class ‘cause her teacher is an octopus,
she can’t find a job ‘cause the means are owned by capitalists,
can’t even fall asleep ‘cause there’s bugs in her mattress,
but she could make a killing in the weapons business!
It’s a lucrative one,
‘cause what kind of loser doesn’t wanna buy a gun
and another one, and another one?
A gun to the head keeps the drummer playing on time.
Where could you find a freer market than this?
I wanna get rich!
I’ve got no spine.
I don’t eat, I just get by,
and keep riding this dead horse.
I’m a TV news anchor, I talk a lot of bullshit.
Got no moral compass, so I’m rolling in it.
I take the struggles of the people, and I spin them around
so that the People stay subservient to corporate interests.
But it’s not so easy
to control your mind when you wanna be free.
I don’t see why you won’t just listen to me;
don’t you know I’m the one who keeps the drone bombs dropping on time?
When can I get the attention I crave?
I wanna be a star!
I’ve got no spine;
I look good, I drink fine wine,
and get ready for the end times.
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8. |
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Hey,
you've got a lot to release;
the aching in your chest,
and the snails inside your throat.
Come on up
to the New York island;
spend money we don't have
on something everyone needs.
I've been alone all year;
felt like solitary confinement.
Now my hair is thinning,
my body's quaking,
and my voice is breaking.
Come on
to the rabbit hole;
you know
you'll feel better.
You'll take a shot of me,
I'll take a shot of you,
and we'll climb our way out
together.
A buddy of mine in Jersey
threw me out onto the street;
I wasn't surprised
in the least.
Ran across the highway,
walked miles on the side of the road
in the mud and ice
under the moonlight.
Passed by the sign that said
"military vehicles only beyond this point,"
but I kept going;
they say you have to keep going.
Last night
in the rabbit hole;
you know
you felt better.
You took a shot of me,
I took a shot of you,
and the taste remains
all weekend.
Boys
are so strange;
you're always on the move.
Your faces are deranged.
And the dogs and the cats
of your neighborhood;
they're starting a lot of fires
(they've got a lot of wood).
They don't have a role
in the cosmic play,
but to sit and watch us
all anyway.
Yeah, the dogs and the cats
of your neighborhood,
and their elders
(the trees and the rivers),
they dream of the day
they'll all orbit the universe;
they'll leave this town
again.
And boys
without mothers
have taken down
your world.
This smoke rises from below me;
this smoke rises from below the trees.
I call you up, and I talk to you on the phone;
you're not really listening.
If there's a tornado in Brooklyn, I will kill you;
I'll invent a way to spin around your world.
If there's a tornado in Brooklyn, I will kill you;
I'll rise up from these flames.
The city's rising from below me;
the city's towering over the trees.
I call a friend about these days to come;
she says I'm not really listening.
If there's a tornado in Brooklyn, it'll kill you;
it'll spin like a broken record around your world.
And when your windows break in Brooklyn, I will kill you;
I'll rise up from these flames.
I don't know this part of the river;
I don't know this neck of the woods.
If there's a tornado in Brooklyn, I will kill you;
I'll spin like the broken record of your world.
If there's a tornado in Brooklyn, I will kill you;
I'll rise up from these flames.
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Cannonball Statman New York, New York
Romantic punk.
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