mixtape​:​:​the ghetto mixtape

by ::leslie jill helpert º≠º

supported by
Michael Reilly
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Michael Reilly Quiet, layered vocals and delightful acoustic guitars in a lo-fi, 'written just for me' collection of honest and open hearted songs.

A personal exploration of sound and meaning that becomes a shared experience to remember. Favorite track: i am very busy being sattvic.
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1.
guess what i found out why i was distracted by the cuff of your sleeve it turns out it reminded me of my father i could not concentrate rationally now how could you ever expect to get things done when you have 5 minutes to express the depth of your feelings & i know now that's just not the way i ever want to work again i cannot come over i cannot come over You And Your Company Are Done Next up let's talk about commitment it's not about you, you're innocent it's just i've graduated from esoterics and now i'm in it i see after i after i delivered my perspective i second guessed it. these feelings were not concrete enough for you not concrete enough for you your company deals with concrete this was not concrete enough for you* * * your company deals with concrete this was not concrete enough for you.
2.
you're a piece of wood someone's come to reclaim you only cuz they should be renewably minded i mean you're a piece of coal someone's lungs are black from you only cuz they worked so hard to refine you
3.
one time when i was walking under a chalk yellow moon, of course pleased with the rain investigator (not private) there are new jobs nowadays there are ways to be subtle and specific there are new jobs nowadays there are ways to be both subtle and specific I had an echelon but less manicured it was like an esha-loo an a-choo a sneeze but less triggered by dust and i trusted it. cuz there are ways new jobs there are ways to be subtle and specific my thighs sigh sometimes with the weather, of course the yellow moon's chalk and i stay away sometimes i've stayed away sometimes why i've stayed away sometimes this is why I've stayed away.
4.
02:49
I used to sleep with my lover just to keep him loving just to keep him loving me cuz he never knew what he felt like out of bed. I never did it for him it was obvious he'd watch me fall over things when the lights were off his room you can imagine was a danger zone. Dreamt of his mother but was scared of her thunder so he hid under covers with english literature like d.h. lawrence but inside he had a comic. Back when the winter was a rainy season perched like spies watching skunks in the evening sit on your front porch try to find you something to say. I used to sleep with my lover just to keep him loving just to keep him loving me he never knew what he felt like out of bed. I never did it for him it was obvious he'd watch me fall over things when the lights were off his room you can imagine was a danger zone how did he watch me in the dark you were wondering well it's not so important to our story but he had a little light on his watch he used to flash in my eye. i used to sleep with my lover just to keep him loving, just to keep him loving me, cuz he never knew what he felt like out of bed. i used to sleep with my lover just to keep him loveing just to keep him loving me, cuz he never knew what he felt like out of bed. how did he watch me in the dark you were wondering well it's not so important to our story but he had a little light on his watch he used to flash in my eye.
5.
6.
01:16
7.
you dreamt you sucking on the fruit of the earth nothing, nothing could sate your thirst. what's worse was how the sweet taste changed on your strong tongue nothing stays the same i'll never look into your eyes (again) you dreamt you were sucking fruit from the gun the one you had slung to your hip when you were young you raised it to the sky like a skewer in the sun you wanted a warm bite of an apple but you broke your teeth on the bullet from a battle. I want to go and go and go cuz baby we are noble to be The Escapists I want to go and go and go Or else we'll be like time, imprisoned convicts. You dreamt you were riding the back of a slug. The blue gorgeous excrements of his slowness shined in your palm When you woke up on the floor to a drum You knew nothing was real Now What do you feel? Punch holes in your floor until you punched into the dirt you punch through all the ground you're on the other side of the world From San Francisco to Mont Marte, there's your heart! You dreamt you were sucking the fruit of the earth nothing i mean nothing can sate your thirst it's a curse your taste buds change on your strong tongue nothing can stay the same. Oh I wish I could feel your hand fall heavy asleep on my breast
8.
i've fallen astray holding on to my worldly possessions my heart wants to start over my heart wants to start over never forgotten a thing you said oh the ways i was wrong formed my head then, deformed, i listened made effort muscles tired, everything you chose you imposed on your child and now you see her and now you spit she's a folded nickel like a said dragon who when, if she would unfold, is as large as a mountain and if yes then by whose late night conversation? My heart wants to start over My heart wants to start over My heart wants to start over Mother says "run", "go" mother says "go", "go", "go" "find your heart, abandon the pharaoh of reason... see, waters part." but, by day, we return sober, with again, glass in hand begging, begging. My heart wants to start over my heart wants to start over. *Lover after we were hit by the imperialists i wrapped my bullet-holes in antiquitous tourniquets said "I was looking for a bit of original wit digging up yards here and there bones were discovered." But now my heart wants to start over
9.
Oh he didn't trust me me and my heart and he raised his big mirror up to my eyes oh and it was a trigger cuz he just raised the same to the sky while singing "both of us lovers are on pedestals now and both of us utter my love can do no wrong." even skipping cannot save these fools who by asinine tournament missed every goal. the only hope they now chance is to beg for a quick death in each-other's arms oh while quivering. her mother feeds her but it's a sad fare everything sweet is sickly and how everything sour by comparison dull everything spicy is missing the mark and bitter is week and pungent not deep only her fallen tears can chance to flavor the lot she's stuck digesting that he couldn't trust her her and her heart.
10.
remember the walk we took through somebody's garden each of us eyeing the statues and stones juxtaposed in the midst of endemic botanicals and imported roses from paris and rome. i held your hand and sighed which means, supposedly, "if only". recall when we felt Fall and identified Autumn in a scholastic town filled with professors of prose when everything rhymed conveniently by it's ending and no one thought twice if it did with the words "no" and "nose". when saints were saints and stars were stars and magicians did their tricks with cards and lived in apparent site on the hill where mountain lions stopped to strike and instigate awe and chill and remember when you lived in me for days after we slept like phosphorous in octopi arms free and so well-kept. when time was not to recollect but to play with like porcelain to make trees like elephants with trunks profound and grand and we moved to france particularly so we could say "terrible" and mean the most, the best, and not the world at its end. your eyelashes caught dewey things sleep and snow and dust spiderwebs and silly/tender string the fragrance of hope and trust. but broke off in a frozen dream of winter and so we must part at the gates we built ourselves and slept to forget we did and i hope you find the note inside your stomach that i hid and i hope you find the kiss inside your mouth i farewell bid. and make with no copyright or trademark like a man but versus, instead, transform something, sandcastle by wind or make a flute out of your spine or recall my name over a cliff like the warrior israelites on mount mesada did.
11.
12.
01:47

about

once upon a time i lived in the town's oldest house covered by the branches of an un-arbored magnolia tree. i had no furniture but a low-lying indian card playing table. there was a gas heater that burned a blue fire and made a clicking sound apparent here on the audio tracks of this recording. i stayed in my pajamas for 2 years. After a failed stupid record deal, i made these recordings and jumped on a miniature trampoline at intervals and sometimes i climbed up a rope and tucked away in an attic-level closet and played "hide from the intruder". I had a pet bird who lived outside and woke me up with a cell-phone mimicking drone. his name was Meany. Those were days where i was convinced that my obscurity of reason was the fault of electrical outlets placed too near my bedframe.

credits

released March 1, 2008

me, just me: no one else made this album except for the amazing Charlie Wilson did mix it correctly after i mixed it for the volume of a little mouse-house family. He mixed and mastered it for People-ears.

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::leslie jill helpert º≠º New York, New York

<---a non-deductive anachronymph, meaning, mostly "of a chronologically inconsistent hemimetaboly". she makes candy out of earthsap, rudders and thunder ----->

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