hot jams for a cold office

by Student Driver

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recorded at home

student driver is alex d.


released April 30, 2017



all rights reserved


Student Driver New Orleans, Louisiana

never leave the house.

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Track Name: ∞ papercuts
Solid ground, help me now.
Eyes like infinity papercuts
stare through walls. Tear them down
because they're always
hanging around
to watch you give yourself
and fall short.

I sat and spat on the world,
and the world, it spat right back.
Workers unite is just a line.
Sometimes, I bite the hand that feeds,
and the hand, it bites right back.
Lay down and cry and say it's fine.

Superiors glance and frown.
The manager's cynical.
Keep a chemical
guard all day. Trust no one now.
Then you're on your way up,
so don't look down
if this is what you want,
if you're sure.

I sat and spat on the walls,
and the walls, they spat words back:
workers unite is just a line.
And when I bite the bank, I bleed
because the bank, it bites right back.
Lay down and cry. Get fired tonight.

Vision, optimized.
We're efficient in our declines
and inclined
to despise
faxing the world anathemic forms.
I can't get that year back now.
Curse tact to hell.
I wish no one well.
Divorced heart from chore.
You said it was my fault
if I couldn't care more (or care less).
I know you're right,
but I've spite despite.
Track Name: gnaw
only thing to do
is run from you
cause you gnaw right through

and chew me out, too.
well, saw down that tooth.

everything they dream
they'll never do.
they can only lose.

and still they say they're like you,
and you saw through that too.
Track Name: one day
all the things
you say you do
you don't see through,
but you could be some use
to someone

if you set the clock alarm to
quarter to.
do what you guess
you should do,
if you don't know what you want.

but all this time spent on mundane things
could be a way out of one head
and closer to the rest.

take the rush hour route
with the men in suits
and the boys in blue,
paying their dues
every dawn.

now tossing tips
to the down-and-out crew
sprawled on the stoops:
get up and produce
something someone wants.

but the end you serve is a suspect thing.
you fought it hard, at first
and compromised at last.

i'll close my eyes and do it.
i'll sit through it.
is it done yet?

another day's a wash at best.
lay down your blanked out head,
and try to get some rest.
Track Name: invoice no. 2: every font is bad, and this office is unreasonably cold
what about taxes?