Priority Retcon (Previous Statements Embargoed)

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The final, feverish lecture of a preeminent political science and media studies professor.


Jimmy the hood. Stick a split-shot sinker on the accelerator cable.
Fast wins the race. Fast has always won the race. You'd better reread your fable.
Shriek as loud as you can in the anechoic chamber until your throat is raw.
Hope you like yanking the pendulum over and over from the same stupid lion's paw.

Careful what you aspirate when a slogan cuts the smoke:
"Fuck those felled by friendly fire if they can't take a joke."
We've said that all along.
Priority retcon.

Push poll spec scripts are the hot new foot in the door to think tank fame.
What agitprop would compel from a blocked number in Coeur d'Alene?
Selling sanity's death is a cinch when an asterisk counts as reform.
Who can remember which wasp stung her when the lineup becomes a swarm?

All the ladybugs are melted onto streetlights
And the orange glow is dismissed as deception
While dispatch is deluged with calls about spiders ballooning mistaken for weapons.

Careful with the aspartame when the press room cuts the coke.
Contort to leap your rising gorge if you don't want to choke.
You must have heard us wrong.
Priority retcon.

Previous statements are embargoed under intellectual property law.
These uncorrected proofs have been superseded. Quotations must be withdrawn.
They'll methodically smash your piggybanks--the ones you named--
And then gesture at the mess, scolding, "You should be ashamed."

Tears erode your eyes to the point you can't see anything at all.


from They Burned for 18 Days!, released June 3, 2016
Chris Willie Williams: Vocals, programming, keyboards, bass, guitar, lightbulb smashin'



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Disclaimer Bangor, Maine

Disclaimer is multi-instrumentalist and music critic Chris Willie Williams. He writes black-humored electro-indie-rock songs about government corruption, heartbreak, and things generally crashing to an unpleasant end. He loves puppies.

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