NO ROAD MAPS single release

​Max moon unit

NO ROAD MAPS

single released April 26, 2023

Lyrics by MAX MOON

Produced by 555

Original music by TELECOLOR 

She bit down hard and 

sucked the soul right out my neck 

Spit it back and refreshed 

a little poison on her  Breath

Body’s decompressed

 in a twisted sculpture of flesh

My brain on buzz

My tip glowing like a cigarette 

She sang to me songs of joy 

but like the Jackson five 

you could hear that it was pain in her voice

The phenylethylamine buzz 

cut through the noise

We were feeling like gods children’s toys

Yeah

Yeah

Floating in the sandbox 

of the universal hourglass

Cloud of smoke from the sour gas

And sips from the silver flask

It is what it is just live and let it pass

Got caught up for a minute 

In the thought that it might last

But it crashed

Yeah

Death proof Mad max 

hot sex road rash

These are the lifestyles 

of young people with no road maps

Chased her apparition

Beneath fields of smoke stacks

And these are the lifestyles 

of young people with no road maps

************

(To my mind, visionary romantic poetry will always manifest itself as social erotic tensions, boundaries between two worlds, dangerous obsessions in the upper classes with the wisdom of the streets, the working man, the mad, the unknown, despairing intergenerational trauma, just add drugs, get ready for the party tn.)

*********

Not let them know you felt it

Don’t let ‘em come in If you can’t help it

Just play along

Siren song

White wine drunk, strolling

Light up in the nighttime 

Just blowing off steam 

Getting myself ready for my flight time

Yeah

Cumin and satsuma 

played like a tuba

Put her lips to the instrument 

And it made music 

And it made me so stupid

But I’m a working man baby

I gotta work this land daily

Even snowblind I gotta plumb  

the depths of these gold mines

Two ships passing in the night 

With their cannons out

The firefight streaks

across the nights canvas now

Wow so beautiful 

So destructive 

Fuck it

**********

(I’m put in mind of Bazooka Joe 204, another slow-talking storyteller emcee who sometimes sounds like he’s reading slices of unfinished Canadian novellas, teetering between gritty realism and psychedelic lyrical splendour, attuned to the dive bar scenes, every wetbacked flitting imperfect moment, savouring every black hearted snowflake that falls on a shit Christmas Day: that’s what this single leaves us with,snow swept grime of small city life: love, loss and painful beauty, roads to manhood, unmapped)

*************

these are the lifestyles of 

young people with no road maps

these are the lifestyles of 

young people with no road maps

these are the lifestyles of 

young people with no road maps

Now I have telecolor dreams 

of small-town murder scenes

And for the life of me I can’t 

understand what it all means

***********