Demo Tape

by Acidic Tree

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Released on cassette on Nervous Laughter Records in the summer of 2010. 100 blue tapes. About 5 left.


released July 7, 2010



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Acidic Tree Chicago, Illinois

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Track Name: Vatican Boys
As I sit here rotting away, the words can't fall from my head. Can't describe this utter sinking feeling. It's got the Catholic sin, the stomach can't bare to digest the phrase, "A washing machine is a girl's best friend."

Hiding the alternatives and overplaying the stereotypes. Never breaking tradition, nothing left in society to keep ourselves from being walloped in.

And maybe some things have come a long way but something still resonates, in the pulsing, beating hearts of the abhorrent. It's not just white and black, they'll never tell you why your life will be taken away.

They'll take your life, cause nothing else matters. The black wires are drowned underwater.
Track Name: Stabbed the Cashier
Another independent dream is shredded, another starbucks is constructed. Another family is torn apart. Another deviant puts some money in his pocket. You can't justify your actions without playing the victim.

Nothing but a work in progress. Can't give a damn about anything. Copious minds entraced in salt, you can't lift the grain. And the needle will keep on scratching, away, away.

Another body bag is flown in, another senator elected, another family is torn apart. Another friendly face, that kills with embarrassment. You can't take the fall without playing the victim. We never needed professors, never need dictionaries, to realize that we're all just full of shit.
Track Name: Caravans
How can you look into their eyes, and not feel anything. How can you witness their broken lives and not feel any remorse?

The words you laid upon this earth, only scorched it brown.

And you'll fall, into the unmarked graves, into the canyons. And you'll swim, embedded in the tears, the blood, and the sweat.

How can you stare upon all of these fallacies? The underground tunnels, the first aid kits, all running through your head.

The words you laid upon this earth, only scorched it brown.

And you'll fall, into the unmarked graves, into the canyons. And you'll swim, embedded in the tears, the blood, and the sweat.

You don't know what you're fighting for.
Track Name: Inchworm
Sitting on the cold cement, staring face of the future. My fingers are numb, and I can't help but feel apathetic. If there was a god that stared down at our pathetic existence, they wouldn't have the sense to care either.

Play the rules of the game. Solidate your mind with alternate conception.

The bleak winter sky seems as fatigued as I am. Blowing harsh carbon air into my lungs. I don't have any intentions, I don't have a plan. I'm still trying to swim through this sea of shit.

Four walls closing in on me. And I've kept this fire burning with the records on my bookshelf. I can't help but feel my efforts are inadequate. You can have everything to my name. Just give me back a piece of mind.

I don't even know what to think of this. The moisture is seeping through my black canvas shoes. Degrees lost to time, apologies are useless to the answers.

Thawing through my pains of aggression, this city has a face but it hasn't seen the light of day. Progressive thoughts try to stay warm in my heart. Thawing through my pains of agression. Because everything has been left unsaid.
Track Name: Redemption at it's Worst
Sweating profusely in an insubordinate haze, the nuclear showers bring in the cold summer rain. Bombs going off and spreading the caner, to assemble the obliging is a pain.

The Westboro protesting a funeral. The future just, can't give in. Courage left falling from a bridge, to obliterate the mind of a citizen.

Is it the poison in the air or is it in the water? I just can't comprehend. The lifeless bodies lay by the river's edge, to form some sort of establishment.

The slaughterhouses are overcrowding, we'll do anything to escape the harsh reality. Compassion left at the bottom of the barrel, ignorance breeds another casualty.

Can hell really be all that bad?
Track Name: Impeach Me!
The fraudulence and extortion is gonna sink this city to the bottom of Lake Michigan. Selling all our senate seats to the highest bidder. Tell me how America cannot realize her fraud. Everyone thinks that they can fly across the sea. Everyone thinks they can get away. Save themselves.

Leading a revolution, but they don't know what to say. Fighting corruption, but they haven't done a fucking thing. The skyscrapers stab the sky and out comes the blood red snow.

Forcing all our kids to believe in a false success, while signing off another man to his death. Politics and politicians always saying...well fuck it all. The tower will fall and so will the city. Everyone thinks one man can bring across the change. Everyone thinks they can get away.
Track Name: All the Dead Kids Win
And I try to sing this song without falling flat on my face. Cause I know you are just as judgmental as me. And I try to piece it together, but nothing ever completes. The circle of guns and the fear of falling apart.

The isolation is starting to get the best of me. I'm afraid my generation cannot begin to see. The conformity out of fear that we have been preached. And the reward of finding a superficial home.

"Well so long..." say the road and dollar signs, because nothing can breach our corporate driven minds. Like the mines planted in the jungles, discolored in blood red wine. Said, "Hey kid, just move to the back of the line."

And I try to sing this song without falling flat on my face. The guilt washes over me as I relieve my stomach acids. And I try to piece it together, but nothing ever completes. The endless cycle of new faces and the fear of falling apart.

Because we've got something to offer, cause we've got something to say that isn't quite as cliche.
Track Name: We're Never Coming Back Here Again
Rounding the dark street corner once again, my backpack held together with safety pins. Much like my brain, never connecting the signals together. Wondering if the seasons will be back next year.

Look to the water for inspiration, only to find McDonald's wrappers and someone's bad memories. Take to the streets, and bring your grandmother's apple pies. Photographs hidden from under the kitchen sink.

Being a fascist won't get you anywhere. If purity is what you want, you aren't running the right race. All this talk of foreign policy, lacking sense in economies, will I always feel foreign in my birth country. For every middle finger, there's a star in the sky. For every bomb dropped another song is written, and they can't take it back.

And I called to say hello but you could hear that wire tapping it's toes. To the same old, to that same old fucking song.
Track Name: A Horizon of Sorts
The principle of hate, even the sky cannot fight. They're saying all hope is gone, cause even the birds are chained. And everything is never enough. With a thought in mind, the fluid drowns the brain.

A one man revolution, ain't ever gonna fucking happen. And definitely not today. If we could all find the intonation of the soul, our stomachs wouldn't be at war. And everything is attainable. With a thought in mind, the brain pushes forward.