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I've been here before

by Hazy

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1.
You go to a store in the middle of the day hotel lobbies and gas cars stay banging on tin cans, pushing on keys making things look just as they seem on the half hole, we put it in the dark multicolored manuscripts, beefcake shark rock sacks open up and chromatose holes produce egg records in backstreet bowls turnpike lettuce leaves on the half shell double barrel worksheets make the cat swell and and no you don't know how to work this complicated copy machine so get a quart and make yourself a weighted home to stay at my phone will play back your bones will shake that microphone machines are way wack we build floors for children it's colloquial snap chillin out on boxed egg miasmas psychadelic glowing plasmas pledge plants seeds as they're growing out on the sack we drive nails in gas trails and get our money back pickle jars smash on the ground beneath my feet turning up to lumberjack leopards who make the street beat pavement ripping up telephone poles and celluloid strings make the wind accompany me when the operator sings make shift trap doors and hurricane variety stores selling bulk manuscripts and mutilated gas whores plumbing on the mainstream weighted like an i-beam tipping slightly i made it scream like lacerated gangrene scenes
2.
Frontier 03:36
drag me across the jetski masters gotta tin can owl spray thing to make it last her water machine was broke, and my stuff was all over on an aluminum foil half alive moon rover believe yourself true, you will make a red knee when the masochist flew, he was planted in a tree so parks and recreation society willl degrade into many different sections of a railroad blade indianapolis crosses over to taller grass sprouts nauseating fried plastic movin my stomach about as i walk into a pool of oxygen and smoke i get strange looks from people breakin' farmed artichokes tall thing that scare me, never will freeze over got my aluminum foil half alive moon rover speed limits and swallow tails motorcycle train derails and my box trap always fails cuz of the the blind man who follows whales be unspecific in your sunset songs making everything that can seem like it's going wrong why is everyone so down in this banged up city because hot fish parks smoke out their high-horse pity buy junk car trucks, gas cities and aurora borealis of propane. I'm a shark and my remora is a copy-cat documentary of eyelashes cleanin off my ottoman-supported TV boxed-matches Hey now sprouting like a tree don't tell me stuff like that isn't relevant to me slow down asphalt burns the sky deserted in a pavement plane no time to wonder why
3.
Milano 04:24
say kind things to a man who cant be brought to escalade himself over a simple thought the doctor told him penecillin would work but once again his insides bugged him as they started to jerk jump around on the roof of an inside store like a cigarette burning in a woodshop core i construct these towers as if they were coming from the sky and they will dance in the fire, or at least they will try there is difficulty in bycicling in the ground and drop shadow scuba divers seem to have found inside a pig iron clam on the bottom of the sea are things like gold incrusted bite marks that are valuable to me light engines rev and proceed to the starting line while the rain still falls in this little house of mine the undertaker writes a notebook of legitimate views he hands it to the house keeper who he know will refuse take me back, elevator city bus to the place i came from to the sound of maximus what does it do, when my hands are in the air i'll bust up the spatial place like bell air fresh onion dust fresh plates at home make a sound to the distorted rocks that are shown get up on the ship like a mariachi man or get down in the dungeon keeper screamin 'cyan!'
4.
3-12-10 04:26
5.
Slave 02:27
6.
Insect 03:04
there's something creeping in the back of the earth something warning me trying to give birth grandeur of a skyscraper so high made out of mud and we all know why in the depths, a empire thrives crawling with millions of lives serve the queen, who lives at the final frontier deepest place, human fear next time you set foot on a linoleum floor with granite walls reflecting the rectangular lights on the ceiling people walking, all to one horizon extending beyond, where are we going? extending to the sky, these pillars of light shining off of rushing cars, and clouds in the nights an orange glow rushes through the atmosphere and now we know, we're all here
7.
Humidity Fog 02:22
what you don't know is why i have to go why i lie low tell me yes or no we'll dive into the sea and plunge to the bottom you and me explore a shallow mind and see what we can find you never see it coming you turn your back and watch out to behave how people tell you to through mediums that you always crave acting like who you think you are but through the mirrored wall you'd take all of your medications and things so your desires don't ache unable to cope with unmanufactured things not in your mind but in your life you're an addicted person an addiction confined to your own freedom that you think you have but you wouldn't listen to anyone because you prefer to bask and glisten
8.
Rain Time 02:12
http://books.google.com/books?id=q71jhLcPd8gC&pg=PA183&dq=kafka+the+cell&hl=en&ei=KMvzTZitDMS_tgfryLT9Bg&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CCoQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false
9.
MSG 06:29
10.
Emerald City 04:06
Emerald City there were snowflakes over the sea, they saw it was coming but they didn't see me they saw the bombs a'droppin', flames a'hoppin' drippin' down from the corridors of misery Bob Ben's combing out his weary eyes waiting for the raindrop from the sound of the skies but that was back in the killing times when there were people still alive me and Bobby Ben waited out the storm for a short time Bob Ben kept with him a rocking chair several kinds of opiates and several roommates that lived upstairs in the corridors of his estate Bob Ben had a pig pen, dope and colored wheels he lived out in the wasteland, where I met him in my early years he was hangin' around a newspaper stand, with a cigarette in his long white hand he said "son, I'll take you to the promised land" that was back in the killing times, when there were people still alive me and Bobby Ben waited out the storm for a short time One day he gets a knock at the door never seen her face before she says the dust has settled and the waves have all rolled down. invitation to sit on the highest tower, with servants around on every corner, clap their hands for peace and order and sow their empty seeds. Long after the killing times when all the other men have gone a simulacrum of me sits under the sea sings dead Ben's song.

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A dichotomy between craziness and tranquility, with some nostalgia thrown in, like all my albums...

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released June 11, 2011

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about

Hazy Indiana

I've lived for a relatively short amount of time...during that time I've experimented with lots of music, I've written a lot and gone on various websites under a variety of names. Now I am Hazy, and I've been Hazy longer than I've been anything else as far as music goes.

My songs mostly reflect weather, atmospheres, or personal nostalgia. Some make no sense at all (especially my earlier ones)
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