House of the Rising Collapse

by Recreational Episiotomy

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about

{TCE-024}

Reissue of the beloved HOUSE OF THE RISING COLLAPSE, unarguably the pinnacle of early era Recreational Episiotomy. Originally released on CD in mid-2008 (in an extraordinarily limited one time pressing), this long out-of-print wonderment is once again available to a slavish, groveling populace.

Download includes lyric .doc and eight pieces of classic and new exclusive artwork!

Recorded and mixed June - December 2007
at Optical Pies Recorders (Sacramento, CA)
All music written and performed by Recreational Episiotomy
All lyrics by Jason Cox except as noted

SPECIAL THANKS:
Burt Reynolds
David Steinberg
Jim Belushi
Tim Robbins
Phylicia Rashad

credits

released June 6, 2008

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* one of those video game music guys

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Track Name: Exciting Bike
EXCITING BIKE

I'm a faggot, you're a scumbag, he's a dipshit
We are all insane
After hours, hit the showers
Rustic sedition
We'll have a competition
We're a scumbag
It's exciting, the posture of a pupil
Fail willfully
DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG
Next in sight wrecks night like wreck my bike
Track Name: God Needed To Be Intimidated
GOD NEEDED TO BE INTIMIDATED

I'd rather be driving a black Chevy into a wall at 190 MPH
Track Name: The Orange Paper Strips
THE ORANGE PAPER STRIPS
Little Benny Foo Foo with the paranoia dope
WPLJ is in the air
Porter's got the port and Cisco's got inhalers
And he's ripping them apart for what's in there
Dissolve it like a moonshiner
The wine is on the radiator
Track Name: The Wallpaperer
THE WALLPAPERER

Wallpapering the walls of heartache
GLUE GLUE
Track Name: How About Those Jays?
HOW ABOUT THOSE JAYS?

I'm going to piss on you, okay?
I'm going to shit on you. okay?
Don't make me mad, don't make me hurt you
You're a fucking piece of shit but I like you

Overturned porn truck smolders in my mind
Wifey beater non-secretor
Serving virgin wine
Track Name: How About Those Leafs?
HOW ABOUT THOSE LEAFS?

Set in amethyst and Halothane kissed
Thirty-thousand words per second, covered in piss
Serving virgin wine in halcyon times
He may be kind of brutal but at least he is mine
Track Name: Arbun
ARBUN

Pull the cork on a bottle of pork and measure the torque in my pneumatic mic, it's charismatic from here to New York and back again on a girly bike
Track Name: Little Metal Cox
LITTLE METAL COX

Little metal, little metal Cox.
Little metal, little metal Cox.
Little metal.
Little metal cocks for your addictive fists.
Crocodiles, vampires, bulls and amplifiers.
They've got (little metal cocks) for your addictive fists
Track Name: Bing Bang Clang
BING BANG CLANG

Do you want another dream?
Do you want another dream?
Do you want another Wolf's Dream?
On the right, on the left, pull your coat over your head
A hundred and thirty éclairs

[adapted from the somniloquies of Dion McGregor]
Track Name: The Merits of a Tedious Process
THE MERITS OF A TEDIOUS PROCESS

Merits of a tedious process
Optical delicious dessert
Calling out subordinate bosses
Calling for the street and the vert
Imitate the alien circuits
Spread it like a cold through the peers
Usual offenders can work it
Many haven't got any ears
Calling unfamiliar life forms
Opposition's alloy façade
Xenochrony wouldn't be welcome
Welcome in the presence of God
Welcome in the presence of God
Welcome in the presence of God
Track Name: Feed The Pope's Corpse / Hawk's Retreat
FEED THE POPE'S CORPSE

Feed the corpse
The Pope's corpse
Feed the Pope's corpse to the poor

HAWK'S RETREAT

Are you on the level?
And if not, do you wanna be?
Can you smell the trash piling up, and surrounding me?
Try to buy the doggie in the window, then I pounce
Let’s make a movie where I run away from Blount’s
Romance isn’t hard to spell; it’s hard to mispronounce
Romance isn’t hard to say; it’s hard to stay away
" STAY AWAY EVERY BODY HAS THE FLUE " [sic]
Track Name: Clams Casino
CLAMS CASINO

(clams)
Track Name: Tumbling
TUMBLING a/k/a Cowboys & Indians

You be the cowboy, you be the Indian,
I’ll be the teen-aged stalker
You be the one in the sun in the
photo Scotch-taped to the back of my locker.
Track Name: Button Eyes
BUTTON EYES

It's all right, it's all bright
Beckleyview is in sight
Track Name: Rate My Schlong
RATE MY SCHLONG

Long ... nice. Thick ... nice. Pretty ... nice. All nice.

[lyrics by the IP address 205.188.199.183 in May of 2002]
Track Name: Fat Cox
FAT COX

Courtney Cox looks good in a fat suit

Courtney Cox with a hollow rubber poop chute
Track Name: Potluck with Paunch
POTLUCK WITH PAUNCH

Sinutab, Placidyl, Valmid, Codeine, Amytal
Valium, Nembutal, Quaaludes, Morphine, Demerol
Track Name: 聖なる道化師くそ攻撃
(a/k/a H.S.C.A.)
Track Name: Rubber Mallet 18-C
RUBBER MALLET 18-C

I'm-a checkin' out my buddy's buddy's car
Rubbahamma to the skull
I want to kill everything I see
Eighteen model C
Track Name: Manic Episode
MANIC EPISODE

I am havin' a fuckin' manic episode
Track Name: Sleepwalking with a Knife
SLEEPWALKING WITH A KNIFE

Fan belt forest
Nocturne chorused
Pine box florist
Track Name: Put That In Your Pipe and Smoke It
PUT THAT IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT
(a/k/a THE INSTRUMENTATION SONG)

A frog caller, toy sax, a "Shitar" that I made.
A ribbon crasher, guiro, and a boxcutter blade.
Bongos, Casio, Wurlitzer, a spring.
Triangle, drums, bike horns, and tambourine.
Groovebox, shakers and agogo bells.
Coffee was deleted and the trumpet sounds like hell.
A cymbal was suspended from the ceiling,
then I took a jigsaw to it and it fell off the hook.
A turkey locator and a goose flute call.
A laser gun, recorder, and the stupid NES Paul.
I whipped a wooden dowel, I hit an IV stand.
Drum sticks, Hot Lixx and One Man Jam.
Track Name: Mom Soccer
lol
Track Name: Saint Anthony at the Track
SAINT ANTHONY AT THE TRACK

Susan Alexandra is 33 on M.L.K. day in ’83
The church burns down, the bible is black
Saint Anthony at the track
Winstead Sheffield, stammer and cough
He fires the pistol, and they’re off
Track Name: Early Retirement
EARLY RETIREMENT

If you're in the game
Then cerebrovascular accident is the word
That mix of yesterday and today Is the oldest trick in the book.
Track Name: Knifeplay with the Vocally Unenthusiastic
KNIFEPLAY WITH THE VOCALLY UNENTHUSIASTIC

Dig way down in your heart
You’ve got this feeling that I’m just holding you down
Tonight I gotta cut
Cut everybody

FIRST -- the knife goes in and around
SECOND -- put you six feet underground
THIRD -- I’ll take control of your soul
FOUR - Whoooa, I'm turning it

I gotta cut your guts loose
EVERYBODY CUT
everybodycuteverybodycutcutevery
bodycuteverybodycutcuteverybody
everybodycuteverybodycutcutevery
bodycuteverybodycutcuteverybody
everybodycuteverybodycutcutevery
bodycuteverybodycutcuteverybody


[adapted from lyrics by Kenny Loggins]
Track Name: Full-Color Backpiece of a Yum Yum Donuts
FULL-COLOR BACKPIECE OF A YUM YUM DONUTS

Sink into the black pollution in a dark cherry bucket seat
You can unwind down into a straight line
Cut into another chunk of meat, cut hallucinations at the feet
Blurry targets from the street
Cutting to the drain down in the floor of the morgue,
when the rain starts to pour,
there's a fork in the brain and Le Tour on the cork
Automatic
Psychedelic
Track Name: His Fist Didn't Go Up So Quickly This Time
HIS FIST DIDN'T GO UP SO QUICKLY THIS TIME
(a/k/a "It's Phistan Galypso-Quigley This Time")

Turn and cough and try to burn it off with a rag in a jar of gas - it's a single solitary Molotov in your hand while turning to cough and try to burn it with a rag in a jar in your hand that turns to the coughing apparition barely visible in the shadowy area where you are standing, turning to cough.
Track Name: The Putrefaction of Varsity Cheer
THE PUTREFACTION OF VARSITY CHEER

I know who you are and I know what you’re doing.
(No, you don’t.)
I knew who you were and I knew what you did.
(No, you didn’t.)
I know you were who you are when I knew you.
(...wait, what?)

You be careful what you wish against.
Been there, done that,
and I have a cellar full of grinning corpses that will prove it.
Track Name: Stoned Cat in Boat
STONED CAT IN BOAT

Smoky-eared mildew hell
Stoned cat in boat
Track Name: Horno Microondas
HORNO MICROONDAS

Arcs are flashing within the gray
The door is opened all of the way
Her rap is like a microwave oven
Panties get wetter as she starts to shed
She breaks her own fingers clawing at the floor
Heaven ... is here
Heaven ... is her
Poisoned resources.
Ruptured synapses.
Undetectable heat electrical
Track Name: This Is Budweiser, This
THIS IS BUDWEISER, THIS

Cold morning, cream rises
Sifting through contagious food
Rain Sunday, junk plummet
Calling on a horror show
Track Name: Skullpile
SKULLPILE

I got a way with women.
I got a way with girls.
I got away with murder.
I got a pile of skulls.
Track Name: We're All Adults Here
WE’RE ALL ADULTS HERE

Does he love me? I want to know.
How can I tell if he loves me so?
Is it in his pants?
Has he been relieved?
Is it in his mind?
Is he misconceived?

If you want to know if he loves you so it's in his kiss.
That's where it is.
If you want to know if he loves you so it's in his kiss.
That's where it is.

Is it in your face?
Can he be disarmed?
Could he be diverted while you pulled the fire alarm?

If you want to know if he loves you so it's in his kiss.
That's where it is.
If you want to know if he loves you so it's in his kiss.
That's where it is.


[adapted from lyrics by Rudy Clark]
Track Name: Plastic Battleaxe Crush Conqueror
PLASTIC BATTLEAXE CRUSH CONQUEROR

Perilous air is commanding a mandible
Off of the fork at the top of the hill
Providence fickle to pickup a pickle
Your brother is under the weight of your will
Riding a rubber catastrophe
Chained to the street at the end of the main avenue
Due an inherent amount of defeatism
Pedal your pimples to Portable Two
Wait up and summon the horrible memory
After the mash and before Halloween
Chewing and binding the papers you carry
The bayou appeal that will never be seen
Fucking and spying and eying the cramp of a
tramp that will never be heard from again
Jealous patina of possible pussy
To swallow the pure in the wallow of then
Track Name: Toast Points
TOAST POINTS

The sludgy black is creeping up an ashen throat
The deep acoustics accentuate a lone figure
Surrounded by hideously broken corpses
Above suspicion and under the blade
But just to the side of the time trials
He watches as his hand finds a stocky crystal tumbler
He sees himself nervously adjust and smooth his tuxedo
He watches as his hand works the sterling cigar cutter
He tries to visualize leaning back, but only lunges forward