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Agency

by Kilikili

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1.
Done Done It 04:37
If reason comes my way, I will swat it like a fly. I'll stomp it like a can. I'll hush it like a librarian. I'd ferry in a vessel full of anesthetics and medics to quick and painlessly abort the cognizance of my inconsistence. It's procedure! It's tradition I live in! The mystical, magical state of denial. If I wanted it, I woulda done done it now, And I get so dizzy with the up and down. It's a pity. It's a pit. It's a pretty pitiful pit. All you gotta do is step out. If I would, I coulda been up and out, But I'm steppin' over gum on the ground, 'nd it's an iffy. It's an if? It's a jiffy, but it's so stiff, I can't even weigh, let alone say doubt. If I wanted it, I woulda done done it. You'd think I woulda done done it? He shoulda been foraging fruits of sweet labor, West bound, head in the clouds, Savoring breath after brush of the air, Moving on. I coulda been running on righteous direction, living, remarkably risen from under a ton, and ton, of thick guilt, but...
2.
You know what they're sayin' in the news about sugar? That it's evil, and that Coca Cola candymen in suits fought to blame fat, but fat is good?! ...You're gonna get me fat. I'm a beluga, I'm a sea canary singing you, all all over you, I love you you. You got me all filled up, I'm under water. I'm a puffer fish Over anybody else takin' a bite, but ya caught me, yeah you got me All filled up. Wonder what it's from? I wanna settle settle down, settle settle the kettle down, It had to get hot, but it's gettin' cool now, pretty damn cool. No more fiddle diddle diddlin' around, Stuff me with the good stuff and the daylight. No more fiiddle fiddle Ritalin around, Dose me with playtime. You're tryna fatten me up, feedin' me from the teat Antibodies for the soul to eat. It's incremental, Hansel Gretyl, filled to the brim, You're, you're tryna fatten me up.
3.
Kilikili 03:54
We rolled our third eyes on third eyes. We're puppies in playtime, And maple, citrus kilikili. I remember death, Bless the smell of your breath, And how it peels my skin. I don't even like love songs. There's plenty of other forces in the world to sing about. Plenty of goals and mindsets to instill in our cultures. Is there a bridge to capture how ridiculous it is? Getting too used to have and to hold. Where did the doubt come from? Who was it put the doubt in me? Was it as worms or cancer? Where were the heeders? Where were their toolboxes for building blocks esteemed from doubt? Was it the first sin to act with uncertainty? In the depth of a guess. That a guess should not be certain. But, if flight was the response, It must without retraction And the luck of it be life or death. Was it the newfound absence of death? Was it the medicine? Was it the cancer? Was it the scantrons!? Doubt in the dots and the spaces where conscious wades in short term memories? Doubt in the life inexperience? Was it worms from the bad salmon, transport by time and many pencils and mouths? Was it cancer from the power lines? Processed by the foods but still made from within? Was it just, plain, made from within? Who was it put the doubt in me? Where were the heeders?
4.
Save, save your ambition. Save it for the kitchen. Do as billions have done before you as billions continue to buy into, Do what's best for you. Sit. The dough can be made, so Stay at home with the babies. Chase the stick every day. Be a good girl. Or be hysterical, Trouble the righteously clerical. Raunch your way in like a robber claiming her own goodies. Public decency is marginal to systemized hegemony, And living for traditions made of suffering is terribly comfortable. The bosoms and the botox, how uncomfortable. Hours painting nails and brushing hair. How fixated we are, Overrated it all is. Quite outdated, this condition, but what would we be without a bit of Sexy lady? Give em a whirl. Tighten your shape and face. It's alright, it's a fair trade. He gets a peek a boo, and I get a life made. The prize goes out to sexy ladies who shave their legs and characters. Nobody wants prickly bitches. Oh.
5.
6.
Fadtashtik 03:44
Okay, so let me get this straight. You are Too cool for fantastic. Too hip for a good time. You're too sick for someone so fortified, too dope, sparks rush, you're mind cope with bein' too fly. Covered in a clover cloak, you're charmin' Bounty, Carmen's "Habanera," fire alarmin' I bet your boat capsaicin, and you think I want cha? You think I want cha? You think I want cha? You think I want Cha just the latest fad. You're just the latest fad. You're just the latest fad. You're just the latest fad. You think I want Cha just the latest fad. You think I want cha? You think I want cha? You think I want Cha just the latest fad. And I might be too up for the challenge. Too up, drunk textin' off balance, But I stay lean, despite baking shenanigans in pannikins And eating goodies days on end, Dazed on trends of celestial energies Jousting through me charging for a pleasin' So reason dies, and what a better burial than dancing on her grave? heyyy
7.
Free Trade 05:08
On a hillside type of day, You can take your mind away. Up and out of that new leather chair. Watch the sun peek out from 'hind the clouds that fill your mind. Take some time to look and find your love is laissez-faire. It wasn't anything to me, Why does my neck still have to be reminding everyone I see what always happens When I play the victim of my own manipulations and win a prize to the greatest love gone lost. Forever subject to a self interrogation, I'll never look at him the way before the lust. So why's it gotta be so easy to give to take? And by the way they look at me, I'm a queen, I'm a night owl. I will hunt down any piece of meat I like. Still it doesn't seem so sleezy, a win, a way to move the minutes, hours, days To lose the loss and forget everything And any bit of peace I mind. If the want is to consume, and the need is too confused, Can the truth have a face to have faced? No, no, it's not poly-amor, So what do you give it for just to run and hide before they find You're only there to taste?
8.
There's a safe, wonderful place coming from the leaves of the life in front of me. There is a face to every life I meet. There are cultures of cells hidden underneath our skin Where we all begin. Under passionate circumstance, Oh the dance of our fathers' fathers, farther farther out... There is a madness of our minds Made of capacity to find we are all empty space. And time is a curious disease Eating away at lonely people like me. People like me, like me, like me like me like me like me. They do. They do. They do. They do. 1 2 3 snap out of it. The sink will pour. The food's just a walk to the store. Our eyes, they chew on screens and feast on sugary sweets. Gnaw away. Teeth decay A life lived rotting underneath the fat eating you back. The rite of spring to take and to bring. March, march on. and return as the dirt we walk on. Crash, consume, and come in through the dark of the tomb. Through the dark of the tomb, Through the dark of the tomb, To the dark of the womb.

about

Made from agency and the many layers of fat.

credits

released October 20, 2019

Julien Cantelm - Drums
Harley Magsino - Bass
Grant Fisher - Electric Guitar
Sam Pratt - Tenor Sax
Lexi Pulido - Vox, Nylon Guitar, Piano

All tracks composed by Lexi Pulido
Artwork by Lexi Pulido
Engineered by Ian Tordella - Dirty Boulevard Recording Company
Mastered by Justin Weis Trakworx

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Kilikili San Diego, California

Kilikili is the original music of Lexi Pulido, a San Diego-based vocalist, multi-instrumentalist, and composer.

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