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House of the Rising Collapse

by Recreational Episiotomy

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
GOD NEEDED TO BE INTIMIDATED I'd rather be driving a black Chevy into a wall at 190 MPH
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
THE WALLPAPERER Wallpapering the walls of heartache GLUE GLUE
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
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
Arbun 00:13
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
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
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]
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
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]
Clams Casino 00:01
Brake Check 00:04
Tumbling 00:09
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.
Button Eyes 00:40
BUTTON EYES It's all right, it's all bright Beckleyview is in sight
RATE MY SCHLONG Long ... nice. Thick ... nice. Pretty ... nice. All nice. [lyrics by the IP address in May of 2002]
Fat Cox 00:38
FAT COX Courtney Cox looks good in a fat suit Courtney Cox with a hollow rubber poop chute
POTLUCK WITH PAUNCH Sinutab, Placidyl, Valmid, Codeine, Amytal Valium, Nembutal, Quaaludes, Morphine, Demerol
(a/k/a H.S.C.A.)
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
MANIC EPISODE I am havin' a fuckin' manic episode
SLEEPWALKING WITH A KNIFE Fan belt forest Nocturne chorused Pine box florist
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.
Mom Soccer 00:12
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
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.
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]
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
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.
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.
STONED CAT IN BOAT Smoky-eared mildew hell Stoned cat in boat
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
THIS IS BUDWEISER, THIS Cold morning, cream rises Sifting through contagious food Rain Sunday, junk plummet Calling on a horror show
Skullpile 00:15
SKULLPILE I got a way with women. I got a way with girls. I got away with murder. I got a pile of skulls.
The Scrounge 00:01
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]
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
Toast Points 03:53
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



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

Burt Reynolds
David Steinberg
Jim Belushi
Tim Robbins
Phylicia Rashad


released June 6, 2008


all rights reserved



TrashCanEagle Sacramento, California

Official label of XOC* and friends

* one of those video game music guys

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