/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.

      name your price

     

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
01:43
6.
7.
8.

about

Instrumentals written and recorded March 16 through March 18.

credits

released April 12, 2013

Artwork by Digital Artcore.

Patrick Hogan: Drums, Vocals, Arrangement
Jacob Lee: Guitar, Bass, Vocals, Production

www.facebook.com/PlasticBagFaceMask

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

PlasticBag FaceMask Fresno, California

Two guys who write and produce music in a small room. We're just trying to make you annoyed and amused.

contact / help

Contact PlasticBag FaceMask

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: God, This Is the Most Boring World in the Goddamn World
Marathons in mile high shoes. I swear they mocked your defenses. Woke up in Lady Luck's clothes. Brick walls on the offensive.

Veins throb. Hangovers. One night stands. Cash never stays in their wallets for long.

Twelve hour days. I've never seen the sun.

Twelve days of sleep. I built an iron mask. 9 to 5 a war inside my head.
Clouded. Warhead.

Meaning's left us.
Blank page best seller.
Breathing faster.
Falling last in the race.
Sin inside us.
Where did I once begin?
Paint my skin white.
Hide even my eyes.
Sweat drips. Sheets soaked.
Curtains revealing weakness.
Shiver through the night.
Night terrors my only guest.

Six shooters ring from the high windows.
This is the big city, Baby.
Bright lights. Dark nights.

You must admit, you've never known cold.
This season's mist has taken the bold.
Track Name: Apply Yourself!
Reach inside yourself to find what's left.

Car's on empty, bank's on empty, dream's are full, but the map is gone.

Preaching the bleeding.
Three fucking words.
You will burn.

Gravity fluctuates when you skate on Escher concrete,
Rag doll, cut your strings, pick yourself up, put your feet down.

Our teeth rot from our mouths.
Our tongues are not our own.
I taste the blood in my gums.

Bus stop cardiac arrest trash can hospital.
Make a voice, tear down emptiness, push the matter up, draw the eyes in your direction, draw the fate in your reaction. Watch your work glow.

Friends. Listen to me. Hear all my pleas. I'm down on my knees. Fucking try to set this life straight. Don't be a waste of time.

These complications.
These segregations.
Track Name: Alien Shark Embryo
This is life as we know it coming to a close. All the money raised is going to the pits.

Forward time and lose your mind and unleash it all on the kids.

We are burning all our babies, for they need not suffer.

Recycle all the people, get back your five cents.

No more mouths to borrow, no more lungs to feed from. No pain, no Gein.
Track Name: Make a Call to 1-800-Can't-Handle-This-Shit
Products of our own devices. Now we are falling down this hole we have dug ourselves.

Face it, you are lost.
Taste it, taste the shame.
Forget, lose each night.
Repeat, repeat.
Falling down.

This youth is. Drowning. Burning. Freedom rings in our ears.

Peaks looming and staring. Witness.

We treat the whole wide world like a gift to us.

It is not ours.
Track Name: Bitch, Yo!
Cold cement beds where the world is welcome. Just to feel.

They feast on flesh.
Losing proof of who you were.
Find out who you were in the past and shout out to find it. The echoes never grace your ears.

We have a gun and a trigger and the bullets to deliver.
Our brains can't wait to see the sun.
Track Name: The Porta Mountains
Journey home, random destination. A bed to sleep in keeps the demons at bay.

Sketch from corner to corner. Just pay the bills and you will never feel lonely again.

Go out and play, just mind who you take gifts from.
Go home and pray, and don't dare miss a single one.
Track Name: Traditional Fire
See him praying to his God. Take him home. Crucify priests.

Stone chamber, damp hallways, finding riddles in the scraps. Press on, each key, unlocks a monster.

Walk.

Violent or fake, your mind unravels all the same.
Can't find enough matches in the dark,
The tools are missing in the lake,
Need to bury this lost art,
The monsters chase relentlessly,
The path leads me to this church,
The altar continues to bleed.

Mother. Where are you?
Father. Where are you?
These demons have taken me in.
They are calling me their own.