Monthly Archives: May 2022

“Anyone Telling Your Different” is now on streaming services

(snippet from a thought process)

“Yea, you know, i wrote it that way, as a ‘white supremacist’ with a gun because that’s the way I felt it, that’s the way that presented itself when I wrote it. The Buffalo shooting had just happened, the song fell out that night, or the day after, and that was that. It was a white supremacist with a gun, just like so many times before, cops included, cops especially. And then, you know, I write the song and five days later a school full of children is shot up again, and the song I wrote is missing something. And goddamnit for the world we live in that a song about gun violence would nullify itself not a week after it was written because something even more heinous happened. Fucking terrible, man. There’s just nothing more terrible than a kid who just turned 18 goes out and buys an automatic weapon, no questions asked, all the bullets he wants, and then everyone’s surprised when he goes out and kills as many helpless people as possible. Premeditated slaughter of the most innocent among us. And you know what, we shouldn’t be surprised. The human condition is to be mostly insane, and when that insanity is coupled with an ingrown dedication to violence, there is nothing we can do. Except, you know what, and this is the truth: ban guns. It’s so easy, we did it once, we can do it again. A well regulated militia is not made up of 18 year olds with a death wish. Hear that. A well regulated militia is not just random people with guns. It is, and this is true, the National fucking Guard. State militias. It’s so simple it’s gross. But I think about Chris Rock’s bullet control bit, 50 grand per bullet, and I can’t help but agree. You want a killing machine? You want a photo opp with your big dick replacement automatic rifle? No bullets for you. I can tell by your haircut you’re on a budget.”


Wishing there spirit
Like a cold of valet
Sent to drive your car nearer
To the heavens at bay
Will the wonton won stupor
At the shadow ballet
Meet the shortened board super
And be shunted away
I know the born shooter
I’ve seen him, i say
They’re the futures sworn boosters
Taking 50 and hang
Up the governance responsibility
What are you doing if not richer by the week
Take your pictures
Of the crowds and see us stomping
Fix you sutures of the proud
Boys worship hunting
Man the greatest prey
Speak high and be a gun display

Your lying waits for no man
Collective in your show, man
So many i can’t help but think at all
That you see shots as new fans
Carnage the mirrored of the stand
You fascist won’t you break down
You’re such a drag at face frowns
I’m livid at the choice
You fucking rejoice

And all the while my founding fathers
Are read just like the bible
Not literally, but both with eyes to blind
If you really loved your jesus
You’d be first names with his kind

And peak at won’t you did it
And speak like i’m an idit

Personal news of note

Just to bend your collective ear for a moment, I have to say that I’m very excited about where my music and art has been going in the last year or so. With a Bachelor’s degree in English now in my rearview mirror, a very enjoyable job at my local indie bookstore, shopping a feature length script and finishing up another, and continuing to write music and prose, I feel like I’m firing on all cylinders.

On top of the production, I also, for pretty much the first time, have nice looking physical versions of my latest album releases. Plus, I put a single out last week that will be reviewed in the very near future on a blog out of Eastern Europe (you can hear it here:

My website is up as well (you’re on it) where you can find my evergrowing body of work. But check out the link below if you feel like purchasing a CD. I also have a CD/Cassette bundle option if you want to proudly display Allie’s cover art in its various forms.

If you dig it at all, tell a person who doesn’t know me.

And stay up, kids. Try and be well in spite of these dark times. Try and make someone’s day better at least.

New Song

This is not a mental illness problem.
This is a white supremacist with a gun problem.
Anyone telling you different is wrong (2x)

I have a very serious mental illness
Fuck i never thought of killin at all
Maybe myself but i’m bigger than that shit
Maybe myself knows a little more than kid

I’ve been a wreck caught diddled and swarmed, kid
I’ve been a casualty of mentally armed, kid
I have never held a gun, won’t ever
Could be a crime to be saddened forever

I’ve never worn a belt of bullets, no
I’ve never thought of harming anyone, nope
I am sick and tired of your arms
I am so sick and tired of the storm

This is not a mental illness problem
I’ve know so many mentally ill who were victimized by em
Just another number triggered by storms
But no gun fired to tell me i’m wrong

This is a mental illness problem
This is a white supremacist with a gun problem
This is a Right supremacist with a gun problem
Anyone telling you different is wrong

Too many people and too little thinking
Too many steeples with no one underneath praying, really
Too many people dogmatic and horned
Too many guns cocked simple and sworn

This is not a problem of what and why
This is a problem of how and it’s plain to see
You can get a gun quite easily
You can trigger victims, cocked and be cried, see

This is not a mental illness problem
I am mentally ill and i ain’t got that problem
Hell, anyone with a gun is mentally ill
But not the kid that is a victim, still.

This is a white supremacist with a gun problem
This is a white supremacist with a gun problem
This is white supremacy
This is no feeling for no peace

This is a white supremacist with a gun problem
This is a white supremacist with a gun problem

Cops too, brother
Cops too