S1 ep 27- DECAY

BHABI IT'S YOUR BDAY, WELL IT WAS YOUR BDAY ON THE DAY OF THIS RECORDING,  BE WELL. THOUGHTS AND PEACE SENT YOUR WAY.

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S1 ep 27- DECAY

Move, move a way
Lot a room, room to make
Hit it hit it hard
Get a hold take the charge
I been dropping the lowest
Hoping I could just hold it
Got a way to the door
Hop into space and I'm gone
We in to life collect data
Show me the righteous way up
C'est la vie on em envies 
Heart to my grannies
Pay a rate that outlandish 
Chuck the duce and feign manners-
Landing in the moment 
Born to play the foreigner
No one of 
Our Ilk
Got it smooth like silk
Back, back a way
Ain't slow enough to slave
Randomly floating
Got my hands wrapped around both ends
I face the door 
And chase it all
Ain't nothing to slow it, don't say I bite
Play it nice
To stay on ice
That ain't right

Why you holding it
They ain't hurting in side
You ball your fist it's midnight 
On, you never on
Them voice(s), they never wrong
You know you ain't no toy
Them boards don't get your point
It's annoying 
No one in side 
Riding on a thin line
I don't want a dim light
I don't oun't oun't oun't 
Off of emotion
I done chased all it
They got what they wanted
I doubt that they want it all

We have doubled up on bullshit, let's double down on "we're not doing this no more". Rifling through the back channels of who dunnit? You always seem to be moving in a tizzy. Does it madder who dun' what? The "WHAT" now "IS" and you need to keep moving.

-That is it! It's just it...I'm not moving, I am going through motions, motions I'm in tune with, mostly-but mostly there's a disconnect. This disconnect isn't solely reserved for me, don't seem that way. Luke warm swiss miss, Hallmark channel dreamscapes, I'm not sure how long these heralds of escape can anchor someone, me. 

I've seen Frasier so many times. The first dozen runs of viewing, I'll ride that off to the writing, to the cast. I'm repeating that with the Big Bang Theory, the attempt to flee into another world. I'm so tuned in, so I can be so tuned out. Let's go back to Frasier, that show captured me when I was an eight year old boy occupying a single bedroom apartment; the "thali" was split between my brother, myself, our rents', and a community of cocklouches, as the building manager would spell them; she gave her word, she was constantly "splaying" to rid the building of those antennae hippies. That flat, Frasier's condo, his world, the accessories to his world was magic. Broomsticks are used to clear the scene of a Raid massacre, maa was too trigger happy.

I convinced myself the more I was tuned into the world of Frasier, I'd be able to calibrate mine to sync with that wave. My existence ebbs opposite. Frasier, The Big Bang Theory were the appeasers of my escape, this fluff now is the agitator of my uneasiness. 

Frasier and his old man constantly clashed, differentiating ideologies born of class structure. Frasier, Niles, the two brothers were the seeds of Martin, to me they seemed to be the fruit occupying the highest branch. Martin was mulch, the elderly thing decaying, inhabiting a decaying recliner housed in the highest branch. We clash with our father, we sit on no particular tier, clashes born of uncertainty, born of the need to grasp on to something. These clashes feel like decaying; the process of decaying is an element in the surgance of life, these clashes aren't that, they're just decay feeding into decay.

SEASON 1 LOOKING THROUGH THE TUNNEL.
NIGHT WORLD IS RECORDED AT NIGHT SOUND STUDIOS IN CARRBORO NORTH CAROLINA. EMPIRES FALL is

BHABI IT'S YOUR BDAY, WELL IT WAS YOUR BDAY ON THE DAY OF THIS RECORDING,  BE WELL. THOUGHTS AND PEACE SENT YOUR WAY.

Follow us on Twitter- @NightWorldPod

Email [email protected]

Leave a review, share with your click.

S1 ep 27- DECAY

Move, move a way
Lot a room, room to make
Hit it hit it hard
Get a hold take the charge
I been dropping the lowest
Hoping I could just hold it
Got a way to the door
Hop into space and I'm gone
We in to life collect data
Show me the righteous way up
C'est la vie on em envies 
Heart to my grannies
Pay a rate that outlandish 
Chuck the duce and feign manners-
Landing in the moment 
Born to play the foreigner
No one of 
Our Ilk
Got it smooth like silk
Back, back a way
Ain't slow enough to slave
Randomly floating
Got my hands wrapped around both ends
I face the door 
And chase it all
Ain't nothing to slow it, don't say I bite
Play it nice
To stay on ice
That ain't right

Why you holding it
They ain't hurting in side
You ball your fist it's midnight 
On, you never on
Them voice(s), they never wrong
You know you ain't no toy
Them boards don't get your point
It's annoying 
No one in side 
Riding on a thin line
I don't want a dim light
I don't oun't oun't oun't 
Off of emotion
I done chased all it
They got what they wanted
I doubt that they want it all

We have doubled up on bullshit, let's double down on "we're not doing this no more". Rifling through the back channels of who dunnit? You always seem to be moving in a tizzy. Does it madder who dun' what? The "WHAT" now "IS" and you need to keep moving.

-That is it! It's just it...I'm not moving, I am going through motions, motions I'm in tune with, mostly-but mostly there's a disconnect. This disconnect isn't solely reserved for me, don't seem that way. Luke warm swiss miss, Hallmark channel dreamscapes, I'm not sure how long these heralds of escape can anchor someone, me. 

I've seen Frasier so many times. The first dozen runs of viewing, I'll ride that off to the writing, to the cast. I'm repeating that with the Big Bang Theory, the attempt to flee into another world. I'm so tuned in, so I can be so tuned out. Let's go back to Frasier, that show captured me when I was an eight year old boy occupying a single bedroom apartment; the "thali" was split between my brother, myself, our rents', and a community of cocklouches, as the building manager would spell them; she gave her word, she was constantly "splaying" to rid the building of those antennae hippies. That flat, Frasier's condo, his world, the accessories to his world was magic. Broomsticks are used to clear the scene of a Raid massacre, maa was too trigger happy.

I convinced myself the more I was tuned into the world of Frasier, I'd be able to calibrate mine to sync with that wave. My existence ebbs opposite. Frasier, The Big Bang Theory were the appeasers of my escape, this fluff now is the agitator of my uneasiness. 

Frasier and his old man constantly clashed, differentiating ideologies born of class structure. Frasier, Niles, the two brothers were the seeds of Martin, to me they seemed to be the fruit occupying the highest branch. Martin was mulch, the elderly thing decaying, inhabiting a decaying recliner housed in the highest branch. We clash with our father, we sit on no particular tier, clashes born of uncertainty, born of the need to grasp on to something. These clashes feel like decaying; the process of decaying is an element in the surgance of life, these clashes aren't that, they're just decay feeding into decay.

SEASON 1 LOOKING THROUGH THE TUNNEL.
NIGHT WORLD IS RECORDED AT NIGHT SOUND STUDIOS IN CARRBORO NORTH CAROLINA. EMPIRES FALL is the instrumental used in today's episode (#27) it is from SFRBEATS.COM

NIGHT WORLD a PODCAST is written  & performed by Arvid, 8TATE HYE, & Zaf. Glenn Schwartz is our recording engineer. Please leave reviews, subscribe and share this podcast.