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THE HIPPENING EP

by DR. BLEAK

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1.
Lace ‘em up, my dude Set your clocks for doom We haven’t even begun, we are the ones legend foretold of the coming and Summing it up, we are the sun’s sons Nothing is ever enough, humans are dumb This is the summer of suffering Summoning us, we are the sun’s sons Check these sick Crimson kicks Made for gods This summoning requires precision. Exactly it’s Sock, sock, shoe, shoe Now you will remember this time Our March to November reduction of lives Alright, we come in without a disguise Our madder is madder no matter the size You’ll see We are committed to freeing The time piece enslaved by the powers that be You’ll see We feature our feet shirts I mean, We’re deriving the pigment from bigots and priests You’ll fall-back We spring- ahead We, we are authentic and shred, You, you are pathetic inbreds Better dead are born from red Or whatever the Misfits said There’s nowhere to hide, they’re coming for you No one survives from the red shoe crew 1:59 brings a scream A minute til opening day for the team Slippers of ruby come straight through your dome Cuz I murdered this witch and then wished I was home We haven’t even begun with the fun, my dude And summing it up we are the sun’s son’s The summer of suffering ends when the digits are set Summoning us we are the sun’s son’s No one can hide you We’ll find you It’s red shoe crew Get your sneakers On Now I said On Right now
2.
Welcome aboard, bring your shortiest shorts We got hella margaritas Sailing the yard Dealing the cards Pouring it hard (dig it) Put on the game There’s no “lames” allowed Welcome aboard, got both feet on the shore Bottoms up Raise your cup to the Hawthorne Yacht Club I refuse to even look at a single DROP OF WATER til it’s bath time now let’s all get SUN-FUCKED Cuz we’ve got that Hawaiian print on deck, my son And your captain’s dope as hell A reverse Jesus, cuz I straight walk on lawns And shoot refuse to sell Forever anchored, lost at sea (forever anchored, lost at sea) Under this canopy we’re free (under this canopy we’re free) It’s sink or swim in this shit dawg You need a shirt for your swig Garcon, fill my Dixie cup with claw (forever anchored, lost at sea) We plant our flag and claim this lawn (under this canopy we’re free)
3.
We must eviscerate Annihilate Refuse to simply lie and wait Reduce these fascist fucks to paste And then we’ll meet for chocolate shakes Incinerate Obliterate Then serve their corpse on paper plates Let’s BBQ and sing our songs It’s Nazi killing summer, dawg I wake up with a wink and gun, then blow a kiss to Mr. Sun I slip into my kicking kicks and bigot-beating t shirt on I’m super duper horny for reducing racist population Let’s bust our justice-dealing nuts Straight up erase them from life Tossed in the grinder then Top Gun high fives (ALRIGHT!) Left them for dead on the right These hot summer days turn to antifa nights Forced to their knees Call the Boston market, we got proud boys on rotisserie Forced to their knees This service to community is our responsibility I never seen a way to kill a Nazi I ain’t liked Your kind has had your day, now these are our antifa nights Punch, strike, beat, bend, break, maim, wreck, end (Don’t stop) All gone It’s Nazi killing summer, dawg
4.
Roll See boys, isn't this nice? Draw And let the fates decide, this time Now Roll Doubles, come on Roll These rules are way too long, let‘s hurry it up! Just fucking Draw Welcome to this benevolent nightmare my friends, now it’s time you Roll Five of me enter the scene which is not looking good for dividing in teams And I, for one, simply refuse to agree that this shit is as fun as it seems on TV Watch out, the sorriest dude that you know Is here checking perception and not passing go You are pawns and I am the the master of games Berating you senseless but still you came See Me? I flip the table when you floop the pig THIS SHIT IS RIGGED Yeah, cuz the longest of roads begins burning the bridge THIS SHIT IS RIGGED Yeah, we’re shedding our blood for the crits Yahtzee and that’s fucking domino, bitch! I’m sending that candy ass back to its land For I am the gatekeeper, heed my commands Lose a turn, Life is cheap You have earned, wood for sheep SENT BACK TO START RETRIEVE THE HEART Good luck Draw four fuck up Friend-ship is sunk Meet me outside the community chest, cuz I’ve settled and just Catan’t wait for your death Good luck
5.
STLLIS(T) 02:53
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh This my JAM! MAN! AWWW! YEAH! (CRANK IT FAM!) It’s summertime and you know what that means Gonna head down to the beach, gonna do some beachy things It’s summertime and it feels just right Gonna gather all my friends and we’ll party through the night It’s summertime lovin, lovin in the summer time Lemonade and sand between my tootsies Just be my babe and you can wear my hoodies Let’s sit around the fire, we’ll make it an all-nighter It’s summertime, I’m chilling with my homies We’ll throw a killer party that’s righteous and it’s gnarly And then we’ll hold hands by the guacamole We ain’t with the fall We ain’t with the spring We ain’t with the cold You know what I mean? Dog I feel it It’s summertime and I just can’t wait Gonna call you on the phone, gonna take you on a date It’s summertime and I hope you like steak Gonna take you to a restaurant and eat enough fillet It’s summertime and when dinner’s done Gonna take you to the club, gonna dance and have some fun It’s summertime and when end is near Gonna pull you very close, and whisper “let’s get out of here” SOLID BOLD SUMMERTIME SUM-MERTIME IT’S SUMMER TIME LOVING SUMMERTIME IT’S SUMMERTIME AND I’M LOVIN IT Aw snap, aw snap Come to our macaroni party and we’ll take a nap

about

how I spent my summer vacation

credits

released July 31, 2021

DR. BLEAK is Charles Taylor

Recorded in a storage unit down the road.


Thank you to Brittney Hawes for additional vocals and wifely righteousness.

Thanks to Maelie Jade for all photography, graphic design, and best friendship.

And a thanks to Chris Dearing (TSTEC) and DJ TNKR for all the advice and support.

You guys rule.

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about

DR. BLEAK Des Moines, Iowa

DR. BLEAK is a one-man, DIY, experimental speed-punk project that ranges in genre from "math-thrash" to "surf-grind" composed by Charles Taylor.

DR. BLEAK is the purity of Hell.

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