Revenge of the Ugly

by Hot And Ugly

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    edition of 46 tapes

    screen-printed cassette boxes courtesy of Assorted Psycheleia

    hand-numbered lyric books, each with unique artwork by Ian Cook

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credits

released January 22, 2017

Jeremiah Willis: drums, vox
Jeff Winter: guitars, bass (4, 5, 7, 9), vox, samples/noise
Ian Cook: vox
Daniel Glascock: bass, synth, samples

Recorded and mixed by Daniel Glascock
Cover art by Ian Cook

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Hot And Ugly Lawrence, Kansas

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Worship Drugs

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Track Name: Warship at the Gates of Syringe with the Disciples of Powder
on all groveling fours
scratching stone for some fire
slow beating chest to start a pulse
making a fist to make a point
hard hunch back with palms flat on the ground
pushes through the earth to make caves deep down
waiting for a spark to consume the dry tinder draped
to start the flame that will make it ok
to bare knuckle
and downward tumble
with gluttonous gut bust
hold on to prescription
side effects include death

wolves teeth instead of my own,
and I can taste the last words it spoke

praying to a faraway star, whose light has already burnt out
Track Name: Autoerotic Assfeceation
stoke fires with your father’s bones at night
keep it down and riled when turmoil is fresh inside

hold your head down
baptized in the wishing well

miracles are manmade
poorly laid plans are often the blame
when I ask the wind my name it replies in a whisper
then goes hush
and the world is solid and hollow
and old crow moans
until the bottom strung lungs become blood
and exhale is thick mist

our fingers are numb but still searching for a pulse
Track Name: OP is a Faggot
mottled, sun spotted, mutt blood, blind, the webbing between feelers crack, smoke damaged, fibers thin and ill, slender wrists pop as they twist, sending panic through disjointed limbs, burrow fervently, invisible but not always, the shaking is violent when fight and flight chemicals drown perception, encompassed, terror consumed unwillingly, impelled gluttony, muculent palms, labored lungs, wide eyed, dead amygdale, desiccated

an uncomfortable soul encased in bones, hollowed and cold, sad to be the plan, tired motions in measured hands, call a forest home
Track Name: Miss Jangle Lee
we have wings on our side so we can always fly away
but why am I still here waltzing back and forth in place
spinning with the weight of the world
rambling aimlessly, we’ll get to our destination eventually
as long as we have our wings we can fly away
but how we could we leave behind our bells and our chimes?

we make such a beautiful noise
swaying back and forth, against a black vista

spinning and spinning through the void
our carousel will take us there
wandering aimlessly with our bells and chimes

as long as we have our wings we can fly away

we make such a beautiful noise
wandering aimlessly with our bells and chimes
Track Name: NecROCKracy
all your favorite rock stars are dead
famous faces, world leaders, living forever with bullets in their head

all hail the necrockracy
raped and rehashed
new age wave and generic thrash
idol markets selling death masks of the past

when nostalgia is safe we know exactly how it ends
And when nostalgia is safe nothing new ever begins.
Track Name: God Why U No Real?!
when I was young I used to pray for the rain, but I realized that god doesn’t work that way, so I stole every last drop from heaven and prayed for forgiveness. I left them out to dry on the black pitch; the day slowly towed them away, and I could not help but hold my arms out, palms down to catch passing spirit’s unhurried amalgamation in the sky. Closing hands into a hollow fist, I whispered names across the space, and they echoed across the distance between lines prescribing destiny and devotion to a faraway star.

I never felt the pull of celestial bodies
They never told me of what I should dream
the most I could hear was that I was bad and broken
Something unclean to be washed away in flames
so what if I’m the only one made of matter
and nothing else makes sense except in my mind
could there really be a watchdog we’re warned of
could we be on our own and blind
Track Name: Janosz from de Upper Vest Side
I, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia, the sorrow of Moldavia, command you!

Janosz

on a mountain of skulls, in a castle of pain, I sat on a throne of blood.

what was will be, what is will be no more.
now is the season of evil! Find me a child that I might live again!

Janosz

Now, we become one!
Track Name: Worthless Fat Pig
to all the players in the Lawrence area
don’t waste your time with a fatass wannabe
he’s a thief and a liar
and a bad guitar player
we know who you are mother fucker
lotta skin.
Track Name: The Adventure of Judge Judy and the Sexicutioner
we got dicks and we got tits and we all want to see them
we want the cum
we want the spunk all draped in young blood
we want the guns
we want the sleaze, sadists, drugs, sluts who tease
mind the prudes
mind the kids
make it family decent
give us a boobtube
give us a light box
see that the snatch is on we got all the sports
Jeopardy and family feud and everyone is the father
legitimate rape, mass debates, high speed runaway contest
we got lost watching cops, made friends all down the wire
It’s the human race live at 9, we cut out all the best parts
blood, cum, guns, let’s start the movie
death, love, drugs
tonight on Judge Judy
Track Name: Satanic Ritual Sacrifice of the Unborn Foetus
Oh god I am such a sad sap
taking back wishes from the well

and though the air is still
it’s something not to trust

fuck

timid when the tongue is stuck
and language is a long road
a holy home boarded
it’s an effort to stay

in a one place race
lengthy laps made me last
tending a mind made
motion mislaid and tame

shoddy frame is frail
sorry is a bad spell

careful feet compelled me
you made no moves
Track Name: Masturbation Proclamation of the Anal Acquisition
coming into a foreign fissure to get my rocks off
be wary with penetration or lose your cock off

masturbation proclamation of the anal acquisition

it’s for sale
your living hell
of hairy palms
buy it up mother fucker

masturbation proclamation of the anal acquisition

don’t stockpile your need
just let loose some seed
I’m just like you
I have urges too

touch yourself
and ask yourself
what your load is worth

masturbation proclamation of the anal acquisition
that’s what she said
Track Name: Old Ones
l’appel du vide
I regret everything
knowing is nothing
it makes for an unsound mind
I could hear the weird scream of some curlew piercing the din
an unearthly light
the color out of space
a burst of crimson lightning setting fire to sentient beings
hunting horrors
living and horrible
my eyes are a lie that behold waking dreams
god if you could only see what I’m seeing
no man could know it and live
its no use, you must go
better one than two
so long won’t see you again
curse these hellish things
legion
“you fool warren is dead”