PANK! EP

by Stufy

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Jacob Bolin
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Jacob Bolin stufy does a wonderful job of making you inspired. his music is fun to listen to and thoughtful. you can feel the meaning behind every song. and i personally can't listen to this album just once it is like eating just one chip. i listen to it over and over again. each time as wonderful as the first. Favorite track: A Coward's Lament.
Mitch McLaughlin
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Mitch McLaughlin stellar twisted story telling lyrics, with a dope recording style that inspires others to record. beautifully done Favorite track: A Coward's Lament.
Raymon
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Raymon This is greatly crafted album. The first 6 sub 2 minute tracks set you up - songs about going to an airport and shouting "I have a bomb" or cannibalism. The final track "A Cowards Lament" is one of the most soul baring introspective songs I've heard in awhile. To judge this album as light hearted and slightly un PC would be premature. Excellently done. Favorite track: A Coward's Lament.
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credits

released September 21, 2013

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Stufy Chicago, Illinois

COTTON-SLINGIN' TOYPUNX

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Track Name: Man Fruit
Why is cannibalism such a shame?
We do not mourn the fruit, for they have no souls so we claim,
but your grandma is a vegetable by any other name.
Why is cannibalism such a shame?

Why can't I be nice to small children?
Just because some jackass couldn't keep it in his pants.
Now I feel like a perv 'cause I enjoy toys and own a van.
Why can't I be friends with small children?

Why can't I kill people just for fun?
I know you're making people meat with that submachinegun,
and I watch my friends step out of their way just to kill a bug.
Why can't I kill people just for fun?

Chorus: I don't understand why I can't eat humans, or why I shouldn't believe in magic.
And I don't know why all my songs should rhyme, but the fact that I give in just makes me barf.

I'm so glad we put them in their place.
A tree don't even have a brain, and it's taking up space.
This universe was manufactured just to house the human race.
I'm so glad we put them in their place

Why is cannibalism frowned upon?
What do you think we'd to do if all the animals were gone?
All these poor, pretentious people producing their porky spawn.
Why is cannibalism frowned upon?
Track Name: A Coward's Lament
Well the dragons, they breed. Skies overpopulated,
And nobody notices, patches of shaded.
Grasses and bricks, that form castles that stand
as a false testament to the triumph of man.
When did all of the heroes stop being selected?
And why can't they be accurately reflected?
They say the sword bows to the might of the pen,
For the blade's wound is clean, while the ink will bleed in.

Chorus: And I know I'm a coward, I know I'm a slave, to the same fucking reasons you'll never be saved,
By this unchosen hero, this futile attempt. I will fight for myself, because no one's been sent.

Is it heroes or heroin, that we want most?
for the heroes are dead, all that's left are the ghosts.
That sing when I'm sleeping, requiems relentless,
To the notion that I may one day save the princess.
but she isn't trapped, for the trapped one is me,
like a crow in the cage of this ugly body.
I'm the scorn of the fates, bound to be second best,
but she's playing that organ that sings through my chest.

(Chorus)

When did all of the heroes stop being selected?
because I need one now, and I want him dissected.
Is his heart made of gold, for mine's heavily gilded,
and a practical joke by the sick man who built it.
Well I'll tear off my skin to attract all the beasts,
Said you wanted a hero, well you got the least,
But I disregard life, 'cause I don't give a damn,
I know I'm not chosen, but i know what i am.

Chorus 2: I know I'm a coward, I know I'm a slave, to the same fucking reasons you'll never be saved.
By this unchosen hero, this futile attempt, Unimpressive, unclean, and foremost: unsent.

Well I wanna be the chosen one, instead of this weak bastard I know I've become.
Riding on the words of a wise, dying man, I know I'm not chosen but I know what I am...

Got these holes in my hands, 'cause I've chosen to dance,
With a breakable infant, who carries a lance,
No ma'am I'm not your savior, just a passing glancer,
No, I'm not your hero, I'm part of the cancer,
That's fueling the banter of the homeless man,
The end is approaching, so lie while you can,
Our hero' a rogue, a rapscallion, a thief,
While everyone waits for undeserved relief,
And this force-field's a fortress, this force-field's a cage,
This haven's a hydra, forever to slay,
boxes without boxes, and keys without locks,
and this just doesn't work: paradoxical oxen,
surrounded by farces that you call belief,
Where's my catharsis, and where's my relief?
I'm trapped between a hard place and two mirrors,
the illusion ensuing makes my task much clearer.