Get all 16 Elephant Rifle releases available on Bandcamp and save 30%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Broken Water, Get Off My Back, Dude [Live 2/22/2020] - Clint's Picks vol. 3, Satyriasis, Pretty Girls, Handsome Guys [Live 6/9/2019] - Clint's Picks vol. 2, Leader of the Pack, Teach You to Dance - A Decade Anthology, Pressing the Flesh [Live 9/21/2018] - Clint's Picks vol. 1, Anti-Klan, and 8 more.
1. |
Kübler-Ross
01:58
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Broken. But it’s alright. It’s OK.
Denial. This can’t be happening to me.
Bargaining. If I could just have more time.
Anger. I refuse to give …
If I could just have more time.
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2. |
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New Wimpkiller cries crocodile tears.
Much to mock surprise, confirmed your worst fears.
He is not safe. He is not clean.
Says he’s found god. Smoke fills smokescreen.
New Bankteller smiles, retells ancient lies.
“Back to the witch trials,” New Wimpkiller cries.
They are not safe. They are not clean.
Says you’ve found trust. Smoke fills smokescreen.
They say they need more money, simple fact of survival.
They say they need more armies. They have to smash their rivals.
They say I’ve got no value, simple act of denial.
They’ve never seen me gyrate—let’s give them an eyeful.
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3. |
Bel Biv Devoid
02:44
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The things you buy will never last.
Use them just once, and then it’s trash.
Throw your telephone away!
Two years is ancient for today.
Watching all those old movies
From like Nineteen-Forty-Five:
Smoking all those cigarettes—
How are they still alive?
Watch today’s flicks in like
Twenty-One-Twenty-Six:
Staring at their cell phones—
No wonder they’re all sick.
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4. |
Dry Nurse
03:13
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Come ride around,
My little one.
The night is young,
My little son.
No need to sleep,
No need to weep.
I know you thirst.
My body hurts
With dry milk cursed.
I’ll find you food,
An interlude.
We’ll find a ghost
Along the road,
A sacred host.
By gravel streams,
To bring you dreams,
He says these things:
“I’ll wave my hand,
Come what can
From stardust and sand.”
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5. |
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All locomotive, no tracks.
Grass has grown amongst my struts.
A bird has made its nest in my stack,
Gathered twigs and a piece of ribbon.
I hear her sing, but I will not give in.
All locomotive, no tracks.
My brothers have traveled to the West,
And some have even come back,
Telling tales of well-oiled living.
I hear them sing, but I will not give in.
The land is wild, no borders welcomed.
The man is vile, his murders wanton.
The bastards will move faster there,
At massive acres, with tracks preferred.
The massacres, the massacres.
All locomotive, no tracks.
All steamed up and nowhere to go—
A third act with no climax.
Head full of steam and nowhere to blow.
Beware illusions of accomplishment.
Daily conclusions of rust and regret.
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6. |
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I just got another sixty-five cents,
So I take the bus, route number ten,
Then walk out beyond the chain-link fence,
To a place where no road has ever been.
That’s where I have my little home:
A tent, a bag, a stove, a coat, a gun.
I found the stove; I stole the chrome.
I lie down and watch the setting sun.
Every billionaire is a crime,
Sucking all the blood out of stones.
Every billionaire is a crime,
Building castles out of worker bones.
As the stars come out, I look up.
Satellite cameras staring down at me.
The blinking of the lights make my heart jump.
Nowhere that the panopticon can’t see.
I’m often hungry and always cold.
I’m afraid. I don’t know when I will die,
But I know I’ll never get old,
While rich men fly rockets in the skies.
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7. |
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Been a lot of Rockefellers robbing from the poor.
Been a lot of robber barons starting all the wars.
Been a lot of little hills not worth dying on,
Been a lot of dying beds glorified in song.
Dance around the ancient world. Dance it to the grave.
Don’t allow the pharaohs to steal another slave.
Let’s lynch all the landlords, and let’s kill all the kings.
Send those fucking apes back to living in the trees.
Living on this planet, a perfect little realm,
Let’s not build monuments to gods and fucking clowns.
Tear down those stupid walls. They’re only made of fear.
Chase away the ghosts. The future is not theirs.
Dance around the modern world. Dance it to the grave.
Don’t allow the fascists to steal another slave.
Let’s lynch all the landlords, and let’s kill all the kings.
Send those fucking apes back to living in the trees.
Build a better bonfire of all those spangled rags.
Light another effigy and take another drag.
I want to see some nakedness. I want to dance all night.
And would I like to drink some blood? You know, I think I might.
Face your failures! Face your fears!
Dance around the rocket world. Dance it to the grave.
Don’t allow the tyrants to steal another slave.
Let’s lynch all the landlords, and let’s kill all the kings.
Send those fucking apes back to living in the trees.
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8. |
Medicinal Leeches
02:51
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“I’m a doctor, and I don’t care
Just how long you’ve been waiting here.
Take a number, wait in line.
No respect for anyone else’s time.”
“Why do you still gouge us?”
“I don’t know. Call insurance.”
“What’s with these gross charges?”
“We don’t know. Call hospital.”
“Don’t ask us. Call your doctor.”
“Don’t ask me. Call insurance.”
“Don’t ask us. Call hospital.”
“Don’t ask us. Call your doctor.”
“Insurance agent, and I don’t care
Just how much you’ve been spending here.
Don’t get sick on our precious dime
Or we’re sure to bleed you dry.”
“You expect me to listen?
Don’t ask me, call a mortician.”
“Why call me? What you wishing?
For a better pot to piss in?”
“We’re Big Pharma, and we don’t care
Just how numb inside you are.
Take your pills, and you’ll be fine,
Trust us, children, and don’t you cry
Wolf to your mama. Go see doctor.
Tell him we sent you. He’s a specialist.
In bleeding, bleeding you dry.
Get your blood work done.
We profit from other people’s suffering.
We profit from other people’s suffering.
We profit from other people’s suffering.
Insurance, hospital owners profit from other people’s suffering.”
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9. |
Waxxxing Gibbbous
03:07
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Waxing crescent, waxing half-moon
Lost my virginity to a girl from Silver City.
Waxing gibbous, waning gibbous
When my lycanthropy acts up, I ain’t looking pretty.
Waning half-moon, waning crescent
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10. |
Spores, Molds & Fungus
01:49
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11. |
Private Beach
10:11
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Look at my hair. See how it flows?
Look at my skin. See how it glows?
Check out my tan. See how I bronze?
Here, touch my hands. Here, feel my arms.
Been a long life, but it ain’t surviving.
Got an idea, and it ain’t so violent.
Got a little wet, and it ain’t saliva.
Somewhere to go, and it ain’t so private.
Look at my mouth. See how it foams?
Follow my breath. Hear how I groan?
See how I glow? Here, touch my skin.
The water is fine, so come on in.
The water is fine, so come on in
The water.
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Elephant Rifle Reno, Nevada
Hardcore band from Nevada. For fans of John Carpenter and ODB.
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