Readers & Reporters

by Dylan Seeger

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about

The breakdown of a journalist.

credits

released January 29, 2012

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about

Dylan Seeger New York, New York

I am a musician and designer living in New York City.

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Contact Dylan Seeger

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Track Name: Hypocrites/Headlines
Calm down

Calm down, calm down

Hypocrites reading my headlines

Calm down, calm down

Readers throwing ink

Sipping coffee

Reading how to lose weight

How to never lose faith

God knows, God knows

We’re wasting all of our words

Little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Singing I’d rather die, I’d rather die

Little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Singing I’d rather die, I’d rather die
Track Name: Little Ole Max
Little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Singing I’d rather die, I’d rather die

Little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Singing I’d rather die, I’d rather die

Now one day Maxwell came running down

To see his Papa’s station

With nobody around

In the old part of town

Maxwell smoked the night away singing

Little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Singing I’d rather die, I’d rather die

Little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Singing I’d rather die, I’d rather die

Now thirty years later

With his wife a goner

And Maxwell always stationary

Sitting on his ass

Eating out of a glass

Made of cigarette butts

And old vinyls

He keeps saying to himself

Maxwell, you’re a good man

Don’t listen to what others say

He keeps dancing with his mind

Just to kill the time

Keeps on, keeps on, keeps on singing

Little ole, little ole, little ole

Little ole Maxwell

So little ole Max smoking three foot poles

Little ole Max smoking

I’d rather die, I’d rather die
Track Name: Readers
(Instrumental)
Track Name: Iodine Punch (A Punch of Iodine)
Sick to his eyes

Under the falling

Of many people

Looking at the star

Legs on fire

And he’s under

Your fire-filled cathedral

And he hates the world

And he wants his reason

He’s got good reason

To want to

He’s sleeping under

Your fire escape

He’s dreaming

To pat the world

Got his matchbook

That he found

Under 42nd Street lamppost

The lamppost he found

And the dogs

Ignore him

And the thieves

They steal from his bed

But he’s the real thief

He’s the only one to know the

Iodine

I don’t know why
Track Name: Pen & Paper
(Instrumental)
Track Name: Colour
(Instrumental)
Track Name: Stuttering
(Instrumental)
Track Name: The Morning Paper
Boy, you’re getting old

A splotch of ink starting to bleed

Sitting naked all alone

Throwing bullshit at a wall to see what sticks

Boy, you’re looking bad

Wrinkled out in the sun too long

Torn back

Yellow-black liver from too much alcohol
Track Name: Welcome Home
(Instrumental)
Track Name: Lonely World
Lying on my hands, killing time and I’m broken in

Shadeless colour finds itself trapped between the blinds

Darkened window, ink-stained, pornographic holiday

Advertisements throw themselves onto shameless pavement

Caught a crack of what’s left through the cracks in the pavement

Loose change, bus passes, I can’t find my credit card

Buy a card, child abuse, I’ll just pay for a new child

Long goodbye this lonely world

Long goodbye my only world

Lying on everything while everything is lying on me

The paper’s done in time to make it to the front of your

Conversation, misconceptions, black and blued cow awaits a better day

Pop a pill to ease the pain till you’ve crossed the line

The line is crossed says the king, says the god

Who steals your money for the priest

Got caught, undressed and red-handed

Nothing matters, we’re just a bunch of walking wallets anyway

Long goodbye this lonely world

Long goodbye my only world

It’s the readers and reporters who are wasting all their words

It’s the readers and reporters who are wasting all their words

Rise and shine, pump the oil

But don’t forget your morning pills

So you can be just as good as everyone else

Is fucking stupid, says the goat in pink

Forgot his eye colour, skin colour, I don’t even know I’m reckless

Leave the bags at home, garbage day is Thursday

Guess we’ve all been wrong

While we’re lost in the trash, lost in the headlines

Broken faces laugh until death, when we’ve been wrong

Still nothing can ease the pain

Imaginary friends, schizophrenic

Diabetic father and son were all in my head

So please won’t you calm down

You reader, you reporter

You’ll never change a lonely world
Track Name: Readers & Reporters
Wasting all…