Rubber Room


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Cassette edition of 59 available via CSR webstore


released January 29, 2016

sleeve: Niels Geybels
songs: Damian Master (g, b, v) and Tim Lenger (d)



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Track Name: Snorting Crushed Bones
I don’t give a fuck about the way you lived, and certainly not how you died. Your life is a waste, your death won’t be. Burn you up and break you down. Snort up your bones. Play in your blood. Kiss the crown of your head. Turn insides out. Get high on your corpse.
Track Name: Double Mask
Bad Man hunter. Door light watcher. Underneath the covers, fingering your mother. Two-ton demon. Knife-play reject. Blood eagle penis. Particle rebirth. Worn to hide the faces. Made to bear the mark. Tied with white laces. Lips around the knife. That’s right. No one hears the way you scream. Tongue cut teeth red panties bleed. Whipped into existence baby, you know I love to see you weep. Touch me, feel me, please. It’s okay if you fear me. You should, I’m double-masked.
Track Name: Die-Active
Mythical religions. Stone-carved remittance. Turtles on an island. Ancient as flowers cemented into walls. In me. A candid body bent down, naked in receipt. Green breastmilk pout out on me. I suck your thumb for free. A nirvana. Orgasm. Climax. Job referral. Denial. Beat the image into life from the side of the mountain.
Track Name: A Void, Love
Some say love is carnal. White line dark eternal. Eclipse the passion motel. Fruit and flower snow hell. Beams of wood above my head. Strong cedar in my bed. Beneath my bones an orchid falls. Sweating in sheets stained red. Dreaming about wild horses. Oats and carrots. Black leather corsets. Chains and chains. Endless cold.
Track Name: Animal Magnetisssssssm (the Return)
Wiped the corners of my mouth. Chased the fairy out of Dodge. Gagged with a belt. Pulled in the reins. A spectacle of ornate trash. Mountains of glitter and come. Praise primitive perversions. Ugly jewel atop the head. Symbols of power and might. I am the green-eyed hyenas. Purse your lips for the divine. Marvel at the splatter of barf. Inhale the acid. Grope angel butts. Smoke angel dust. Hang yourself from the old, wise apple tree.
Track Name: The Bitch Jewel
You talk a lot, and mean it all. I don’t care if you’re tired or far away. I’m here now.
Track Name: Pale Pink Crocodile
Ever see an old motel with neon signs and faded doors? I dreamt I saw one l on the road to a place I like to go. It was called the “Pale Pink Crocodile.” It was beautiful in its decay. 1965 - 1985. Rotary dial phones and Clorox’d towels. I loved that place. Dream world place. Near the ice chest - behind the wall -- you’re in the room naked. Waiting for me.