(Self​-​titled)

by Maus

(Self-titled) cover art
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1.
02:48
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2.
01:52
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3.
03:07
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4.
03:49
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credits

released 01 July 2010
Engineering: Tom Kerr
Mastering: New Alliance East (Nick Zampiello)
Album Art: Andrew Benson
Photo Credit: Sean DeCory

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tags: hardcore punk Edmonton

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Track Name: Horrors Manufactured Here
There’s a rapist that lives in my neighborhood
I wonder if he knows the damage he deals
It’s a scary thought, so I don’t think about it
I just sit at home, I just watch TV:

I see the explosions
And the wreckage that follows
And the bleeding blown off limbs and the screams
And if I close my eyes, focus my thoughts
I can almost imagine that they’re screaming for me

And I see a soldier
He’s shooting his gun off
There’s something so sexy about tan fatigues
He knows he’s on camera, it colors his actions
But it’s so close to real, I squirm in my seat

There’s a rapist that lives in my neighborhood
He has no business, those places he’s been
As for myself, I know how to lash out
I just turn myself on and stare at the screen:

And she’s getting butchered
Neat squares of wet flesh.
The scraps are discarded outside of the frame
It’s brilliant, recording the process
When she’s (dead and) gone, they can sell her again.

She’s getting beat up
But I know she wants it
Choking and crying and bleeding for me
I get excited, I get so excited
I can’t move my eyes, I squirm in my seat.

There’s a rapist that lives in my neighborhood
He has no business, those places he’s been
If he brought a camera, he might have a business
He might be an artist, he might be salesman
He might be filling a niche, a public service
He might be squeaky clean, he might be filthy rich

He’s still out there
I’m still out there
I can’t help but watch
Track Name: Schadenfreude
White males worldwide are afforded supreme privilege, except the swazi face tattooed on speed binges. They’ve taken up the fight for equal rights with other whites because they can’t stand it not being granted every whim. They’re sick of the world knocking on the glass ceiling that they walk on. So they threaten and frighten, and claim that as a right and demand freedom of speech but they can’t speak, write, or read. And for some reason they have this link to the punk scene.

But they better watch out because that drag queen knows how to punch. And if speech was simply free then the crunch of the heels of the boots that kill the queer would seem so much louder than the cheers, and the proud nakedness unafraid, and the bright-colored shamelessness of the parade. But one is spit on for its racket, and the other is so quiet it’s like it never happened.

Our speech is only free from oppressor to oppressed, and the truest menace to discourse is a threat of violence. So those on the margins end up silenced and suppressed. These Nazis do not seek the freedoms they pretend. So if they speak up we scream back, if they threaten us we stand fast, and if they plant bombs they blow up, but they already know that.
Track Name: No Medicine
Each night without fail awake in the same place bound tortured enslaved
A recurring dream replaying the same scene helpless ashamed
Seven years bad luck is worth the freedom from prying eyes
If you can hide the scars pretend you’re alright then you’ll be fine

No medicine
Just bloodletting and
No medicine
Leeches and faith healing
No medicine
No forgetting it
No medicine
Just Dilution
No medicine
Even water
Remembers what has
Drowned in it
No medicine
No one is freed, no one has ever been

Breath against the back of the neck so the hairs stand on end
Metal pressed to the chest as a threat, that pressure never left
Years passed, replayed, relapsed,
The cancer grew, the skin rotted and collapsed
Cut it out, remember what the blood means
As it’s spilled out, as it’s scrubbed clean, scoured raw
Can’t gouge deep enough to change what those eyes saw
Trauma takes hostage the ones who can’t accept
That the body can break from a blow and the mind from a threat
So easily that they are impossible to protect

No medicine
Just maggots eating rotten skin
No medicine
Just a tourniquet
Bleed out until you’re too numb to feel any different
No medicine
Just triage
Abandon them once they fail to respond
Track Name: The Robber Bride
Possession is nine tenths of the law
I made sure that she knew it
Maybe I pressed her a little too hard
Because in the end she proved it

See, some things are worth standing up against
So when she told me she wasn’t planning on keeping it, my faith was put to test.
Little girls are supposed to want to play with dolls
The doctor wouldn’t take her calls, I wasn’t hearing her bullshit
I told her to remember where she came from, I told her
The front lines of liberation are the ones who see the first bullets

She bought some textbooks and some knitting needles
Even though she had no time for reading.
She knew what she was going to happen.
Took the day off work, placed some papers and blankets down on the floor.
There weren’t any plans for after
Undressed and pressed a sharp point against
that swelling mess of silencings and dead ends until it finally tore through.
And then came the blood. So much slower than she’d thought it would.
Except it didn’t stop, and then she was lying in a pool
Except it didn’t stop, and her skin was pale and cool
Except it didn’t stop, and the floorboards were ruined
And when it did stop, she was already dead
When the blood stopped she was already dead.

Art is long and life is brief
She painted a canvas of bed sheets blood red and stole what’s mine from me
She got what she wanted, she was conscious just long enough to watch as
She soaked into the morning paper
And the only thing she left was a sketch of my own death
And all those blank pages, torn and tangled

It was just a tiny cut but it turned out to be so stubborn
At least sometimes abortion isn’t wasted on the unborn

She bled and bled and bled and
died and killed
my son