Some people have been asking for a lyric sheet, so here you go!

CRITICAL MINUTIAE
by webdisaster

1. I WAS GONNA

Ever since kindergarten I was gonna be the smartest
and seek the regally meager rewards of the starving artist
I was gonna sow the seeds and pull the weeds and reap the harvest
assist every brother and sister when misery hits the hardest

I was gonna resist the darkness as a latter-day saint
and defend the innocent peasants from tastin’ Satan’s taint
I was gonna reveal what they really believed was true aint,
I was gonna ahoulder humanity’s heaviest boulder until I faint

I was gonna paint a picture and hang it on the wall
of a museum in an exhibit entitled “The Greatest of All”
and tomorrow I was gonna fix everything I fucked up today
‘cuz I pissed away all my yesterdays wistfully along the way

I was never gonna stay; I was always gonna run
I was gonna self-destruct before I made it to twenty-one
When the gun was in my mouth and I was gonna pull the trigger
my mind kept trying to tell me life was hiding something bigger

The rigor of diggin’ ditches gettin’ shit on in the rain
is an environment that encourages developing tolerance for pain
I was gonna let that define what I decided to attain
but bangin’ my cranium angrily for decades messed up my brain

It’s insane the way we sacrifice our gifts to the system
just so the richest sons of bitches get a russian mistress pissin’
Their lips shit-tinted from the asses they been kissin’
I was gonna submit a petition but those dickheads wouldn’t listen

My suspicion’s that their mission is to crush our resistance
to subsitence from consistent product purchase insistance
which is maliciously underwritten by kickin’ kids into prison
when their income’s insufficient or their skin’s a different pigment

While morally deficient leaders defer to greed and proceed
to fuck us all ’til we bleed, while we just follow their lead
Now I’m not gonna claim to know what we gotta do to succeed
I’m just gettin’ this shit off my chest to make it easier to breathe

I was gonna meditate every day to reach nirvana
but I smoked some marijuana and forgot to do what I was gonna
If I say I was gonna to Kim again she’s gonna snap
and stab a shiv in my back before I can finish this rap

I was gonne keep providin’ for the people I love highest
on the priority list perpetually above all of my other vices
but try as I might anxiety ties me up in crisis
and I make a lotta decisions that aren’t necessarily the wisest

I was gonna have a panic attack… so I did
Then I went and genetically transmitted the tradition to my kids
It’s a shitshow around here when me simultaneously flip our lids
I was gonna do it differently but I’m glad we did it the way we did

I was gonna achieve assorted important shit with my existence
but attention deficient visions always fuck with my persistence
so I’ve inadvertently drifted down the path of least resistance
pessimistically ditchin’ critical decisions, still insistin’…

Gonna fix the repetition that’s been hinderin’ my position
and improve my intuition to remove my inhibition
But as I grew to fruition forgot to learn how to listen
to anyone expressin’ what my attitude has been missin’

Though my situation sits infinitely better than I had planned
it still seems like my commitment hasn’t met the demand
so mandible to the atmosphere against the land’s command
my chest expands ingestin’ the empathy to understand

How to take the latent anger, temper it with respect
and eject sympathetic breath to let trajectories connect
I expect that our perspectives will eventually become one
as gravity drags our matter back to the center of the sun

And the next one up the aggregate ladder as we ascend
in succession ’til we witness the beginning within the end
Nobody dolin’ bonuses for lamentin’ what coulda been
so I’m never gonna say I was gonna again

2. CHEST CONGESTION

Been down underground a while now
this virus got us rockin’ a shallow profile
Pity party got nobody knockin’ meanwhile
gotta walk my jaw talkin’ over illflux style

Exiles required to be self-sufficient
a skill at which ill and me are officially proficient
Our mission is a vision of omnisciently transmittin’
intermittent little figments of individualism
Interrupting’ any schism of big industrialism
into audio input of any willin’ to listen
We’re dismissin’ any missives from idiot politicians
been inhibitin’ citizens from repairing the system

Shit, what a mess – hard to feel blessed
when executive addresses make less sense
than another Mother lovin’ a dinner with Mike Pence
Distressin’ that the message bein’ sent from the president
defends investor dividends instead of the residents
Been content bein’ ignorant because their opinion’s irrelevant
the devil’s in the details and he’s stealin’ the government

But then again, that’s just my admittedly limited couple of cents
Shit’s been gettin’ intense

Social interaction has always induced stress
it’s impossible to guess how often I digress
Even casual conversation causes pressure in my chest
so I tend to prefer existin’ as a hermit spurnin’ guests
But a midwest sense of integrity’s unimpressed
with cowerin’ in the shower and poutin’ about the mess
So I zero in on lyrical heroes and get obsessed
Veer a little nearer to the climax of the quest

No rest, no natural knack for navigation
east, west, back again lackin’ a destination
Syntactic illustration, compact alliteration
’til my overstimulated brain’s immobilization
Innovation hesitatin’ and creatin’ depression,
compressin’ hate instead of maybe learnin’ a lesson
Friendly immolation was never my intention
so I’m managin’ the damage usin’ memory supression

When disaster happens faster than I’d rather admit,
and I can’t escape the feelin’ of bein’ a piece of shit
It legitimately makes a motherfucker want to quit
but when you defend your own surrender you can end up a hypocrite

So I guess I better quit bein’ a diphist and just deal with it
Maybe even live a little bit…
Can’t believe how much I miss bein’ amidst all these idiots

3. ORBITL3

Now the saga of a dyschronic but hyperlexic youth
with a schnoz adept at sniffin’ out bullshit from the truth
whose astute views usually refused to produce fruit
convolutin’ past and future where [Time Becomes a Loop]

Machine boy assembled in the boonies from devices
lifted from the script of Goonies and a mid-life crisis
swaddled him in mythology from the LDS
that left his worthiness psychology a goddamn mess

So when the man-baby finally scrabbled off to battle,
pissy-pants tattered, scared of his own shadow,
he rationed all the babble they prattled didn’t matter
and scattered out to pasture to get splattered by the cattle

Spent an inordinant proportion of his mortal coil toilin’ over other mammals’ poop
[Where Time Becomes a Loop]
Trying’ to rearrange the manger to alleviate the danger but his chickens flew the coop
[Where Time Becomes a Loop]
We accentuate our differences even between members of a homogenous group
[Where Time Becomes a Loop]
The droopy-noodled doofus aloofly doodled stupid cartoons out on the stoop
[Where Time Becomes a Loop]

Simultaneously in the future he’s an elderly adolescent
pumped fulla Prozac and antidepressants
Real-world problems that affect people he loves
but he’s climbin’ into the ring to fight giants with kid gloves

Not enough when the time comes, bumbled the mission
Stumbled into trouble in a war of attrition
so when the day of decision demanded quick intuition
all his wisdom wouldn’t fix his indecisive disposition

Conditions tend to worsen as he hands over the reigns
to the Fates and then refuses to ever use all of his brains
Can’t enjoy the vista ‘cuz of all the little stains
so he pissed his vim and vinegar directly down the drain

Spent an inordinant proportion of his mortal coil avoidin’ havin’ to join in with the troupe
[Where Time Becomes a Loop]
Ends up vexed how he earns a paycheck just jumpin’ through hoops
[Where Time Becomes a Loop]
We accentuate our differences even between members of homogenous groups
[Where Time Becomes a Loop]
Any intelligence reveals self-irrelevance so his head tended to droop
[Where Time Becomes a Loop]

MEanwhile back in the past he’s antique
with no idea which era’s vernacular to speak
So it seems when his wave was way up at it’s peak
peeped a sequence full of people starin; back at a freak

Eyes frequently leak, insequently stressed
witness survival of the fitteest made him sick in the chest
Wolves preach to sheep that slaughter is for the best
so they never get to put their holy water to the test

Obsessed with enactin’ the exact chronology
to encapsulate the knowledge and pass it to his progeny
Jotted down the scoop with a little red pen
[Where Time Becomes a Loop] and the pages don’t end

We accentuate our differences even between members of a homogenous group
[Where Time Becomes a Loop]
Artificial Intelligence breeds self-irrelevance so his head tended to droop
[Where Time Becomes a Loop]
Spent and exorbitant proportion of his mortal coil toilin’ over other mammals’ poop
[Where Time Becomes a Loop]
Droopy-noodled doofus aloofly doodled stupid cartoons out on the stoop
[Where Time Becomes a Loop]

4. Psych Bills

Now, I can conclude how you’d be a littel confused
unelucidated, maybe just vaguely unamused
by a used-up dude spittin’ half-wit truths
over adolescent rhythms being beaten ’til they’re bruised

Though I usually abuse music like an addict with a fix,
hip-hop and webdisaster didn’t automatically mix
‘cuz I grew up in the eighties poverty-stricken in the sticks
amidst an alabaster sampler of xenophobic hicks

Incessantly getting kicked tends to mentally sticks
when your abberant deportment gets reported to the clique
it’s a trick just to get you to expose your little dick
so that every time you piss laughter’s echo makes you sick

Pickin’ Lynyrd Skynyrd licks over Licensed to Ill
because rapper’s bad behavior would anger the savior’s will
Propeganda passes patterns that are painful to kill
Matter of fact I wonder exactly how backwards I am still

Misappropriating a genre I didn’t originally like
after a mid-life crisis saw my psych bills spike
Echoing equally awkward to everyone alike
Just another privileged middle-aged white guy with a mic

Done some shit that probably oughtta gotten me arrested
and squandered some of the promise that my parents invested
but at least the demographics in which I have been blessed
don’t get every single one of my publuc intentions contested

The politics of oppression keep us bound to the ground
Keep the GDP up, but those GPA’s down
Ignoring your opinion if you’re the incorrect shade of brown
or your property intersects where the poverty line is found

We’re drownin’ in debtors that are coming to collect
that’s when geezers sieze on Jesus and his need to resurrect
but maybe he should protect us from the original sin
of not admitting the game was rigged when you’re on the side that wins

Everyone needs a platform in the digital age,
not another bitter old insecure white man on the stage
but I been inside the machine and I got a lot of rage
so I’m blowing off steam before I permenantly disengage

re-learning how to rhyme like riding a bike
after a mid-life crisis saw my psych bills spike
Standin’ at the plate with two balls and a strike
Just another privileged middle-aged white guy with a mic

When Aesop muttered Crumb on Catacomb Kids
didn’t know what kind of mass grammatic damage that he did
plus a double-decade cigarette addiction on the skids
got me rappin’ instead of smokin’ in the car with the kids

Wu-Tang, J5, Killer Mike, El-P,
Kdot, DOOM, Yasiin Bey, Talib Kweli
and the Roots released me from the limited mentality
that hip-hop coiudn’t be delivered intelligently

People just need to be treated with respect
despite any inherited advantages you protect
The system has a history of treating us incorrect
don’t deflect, defend friends, spread the blessings you collect

Don’t expect anybody to take my shit seriously
like Eddie Murphy I wandered the 90’s deliriously
cutting people off in conversation imperiously
then disappear in smoke like a ninja mysteriously

hopefully dope poetry over tones I kinda like
after a mid-life crisis saw my psych bills spike
Tryin’ to deny the probable rise of a fourth Reich
Just another privileged middle-aged white guy with a mic

Another privileged middle-aged white guy that can’t sing
but I think you oughtta know what I think about every goddamn thing
So an overbearing preconceived notion is what I bring
when I bitch and moan because nobody wants to push my on my swing

Contemplating the depth of experiential situations
varying greatly by socioeconomic station
heredity plus friends and education minus ACES
calculating the rank of mass consciousness awakenin’

I always thought rap was just uneducated braggin’
far more fascinated with dungeons & dragons
but to shed this deadly existential dread that I’ve been havin’
had to realize my lyrical lexicon’s been laggin’

Friends have been naggin’ me recommending for years
but I had a lotta impacted racist wax in my ears
so I pressed it into vinyl, made a needle of my fear
started rhyming my perspective prepped for anyone to hear

Misappropriating a genre I didn’t originally like
after a mid-life crisis saw my psych bills spike
Echoing equally awkward to everyone alike
Just another privileged middle-aged white guy with a mic

5. PERMANENT RECORD

Starting to suspect that a permanent record will exist
and my surplus self sufficience really won’t mean shit
Gorillas screaming beating on our chests into the mist
so the only thing that matters is what spatters when we spit

Sluggishly thrusting upwards struggling from out the void
puppets running gunning for the summit till we’re destroyed
Lookin’ back at the voyage can’t help but be annoyed
at a paranoid deployment spent under-overjoyed

The methods we employed became enacted organically
ultimately just so that I could babble at you grammatically
Standing on the rafters drastic dancing fanatically
emphatic blasting matters of fact polysyllabically

Can’t imagine anyone picking up what I’m putting down
like Smokey always told about the tears of a clown
But a helpful thing I’ve found when I’m focusing on a frown
is to drown it in a howling crowd and bounce it around

Starting to suspect that a permanent record might exist
so my surplus self-deprecation don’t mean shit
Gorillas screaming beating on our chests into the mist
so the only thing that matters is what spatters when we spit

Idly minding why I’m still willingly alive
limited time enlightenment environment for the hive
Masses bust their asses to buy provide and thrive
while insiders decide who’s entitled to survive

After Forty-five years I can’t precisely recall
little social interactions that never mattered at all
But every conversation whether massive or small
gets balled up in the hypersocial transfer protocol

So every spirit matters to advance the collective
Potential new perspectives part of lenses corrective
Reflection instrumental to deflect the invective
Reject the next intended misdirection objective

Starting to suspect that a permanent record really exists
so my surplus self-consciousness might not mean shit
Gorillas screaming beating on our chests into the mist
so the only thing that matters is what spatters when we spit

Dissociopathetic poetic reaction
Radical rhetoric, libel labels us heretic

Selective activism attractive to every schism
Seditionists’ active mission is imminent

Our spirit net is only as strong as its loosest loop
Once one snaps stability’s difficult to recoup
If we don’t reach out now and lend a hand to the group
every single string supporting the structure will start to droop

So in lieu of stewin’ lucidly while humans ruin the earth
Exorcise the introjects and revel in the mirth
‘Cuz a single Permanent record started soon after our birth
and only aggregation can infer what we were worth

Attraction to distraction gotta get back on the mend
Collective consciousness set up just to break before it bends
Realize and theorize that up until the end
our most impactful act is what we chattered with our friends

Starting to suspect that a permanent record does exist
Mutual appreciation might be the only thing worth a shit
Gorillas screaming beating on our chests into the mist
so the only thing that matters is what spatters when we spit

6.PANEL ONE

Probably drawn this monochrome drama a million times
A comic portrait bordered by four rectangular lines
With a floating oval hovering over the whole design
That never gets the meaning and the feeling to align

Second panel’s destined at best to be undefined
‘cuz I can’t conceive a meaningful thesis to get behind
So before I make a mark I might go outta my fuckin’ mind
trying to find the mental thread I need to sever to unwind

Denied. Now I gotta start again
‘cuz I already oversold several more episodes to all my friends
Besides, before I can decide the type of genre I wanna bend
I need a faintly vague idea of how the fable’s gonna end

So now I’m staring down the barrel of another blank page
debating escapist shapes to create to fill the stage
in a way that reaches readers like a parable from a sage
but my narcissistic tendencies make it hard to act my age

Kill switch engaged, brain in the gutter
Can’t conclude the rules for what to do with all the clutter
Low fuel level makes the engine start to sputter
I guess art won’t be a part of how I earn my bread and butter

Multiple subjects stutter due to lack of attention
I’ve refined these lines many more times than I’d like to mention
Unattainable perfection then becomes my obsession
’til depression deals death to my creative expression

It’s a lesson that I’ve had to learn again and again
Tryin’ to turn across the finish line before I begin
An ancient angry anxious impatience awaits then
It becomes a painful strain to even raise up the pen

How good have I ever been? It’s a slippery slope
I’m trying to ascend without a ladder or a rope
It’s easier to be real than it is to be dope
Think I can cope? …Nope.

Ope, now I’m falling down in a pit
Where everyone’s a model and only I’m a piece of shit
but that’s a thought I ought not let my logic permit
because ranking every neighbor seems like empathy’s opposite

Little bit baffled with no scaffolding to think
Used to be a hobby now it’s driving me to drink
If my intrinsic artistic discipline didn’t fuckin’ stink
I’d reveal the whole ordeal for ya in india ink

7. LEAVE IT

Every single time that a vehicle drives by I cry
Leave it
Leave it
I don’t want anxiety drivin’ your suicide guy
Leave it
Leave it
Got All kinds of wild violent times outside just
Leave it
Leave it
But I’ll always try to ride life right by your side, bud
Leave it
Leave it

Lotta vicious stimulus vying for our attention
Vivid visions flyin’ out from every dimension
Louder sounds drownin’ out comprehension
Poundin’ out the cure for an ounce of prevention

Naw, I’m just testing your belief suspension
Impartin’ apprehension hardly my intention
If detectin’ any measurement of condescension
It’s partly sarcasm just to mask the tension

Extendin’ the leash to the end of my reach
Gotta decide now what kinda lesson I should teach
I wanna do my duty right and I don’t wanna preach
But you’re gonna wanna heel before you hear the tires screech

Instead of just collectin’ all the shit and heavin’ it
Shed it set it down a bit ya best be leavin’ it

Every single time that a vehicle drives by I cry
Leave it
Leave it
I don’t want anxiety drivin’ your suicide guy
Leave it
Leave it
Got All kinds of wild violent times outside just
Leave it
Leave it
But I’ll always try to ride life right by your side, bud
Leave it
Leave it

Lotta vicious stimulus hangin’ out to savor
Taste buds quake anticipatin’ the flavor
Sense of sniff stiff as a brick never wavers
Laser pointed straight at your posterior lifesaver

Down buddy every other spirit got walls
Tryin’ to climb ’em might just find you stripped of your balls
Trust ain’t found snoutin’ around hallowed halls
Sounds like you oughtta start to screenin’ nature’s calls

R-E-S-P-E-C-T is all I’m trying to say
Trying to keep D-E-P-R-E-S-S-I-O-N away
Trying to show the way without blowing you astray
Maybe it’s your inventory, how much does it weigh?

Instead of just collectin’ all the shit and heavin’ it
Shed it set it down a bit ya best be leavin’ it

Every single time that a vehicle drives by I cry
Leave it
Leave it
I don’t want anxiety drivin’ your suicide guy
Leave it
Leave it
Got All kinds of wild violent times outside just
Leave it
Leave it
But I’ll always try to ride life right by your side, bud
Leave it
Leave it

Lotta vicious stimulus that we wanna touch
Squirrels we want to chase away and human legs to clutch
Usin’ accumulated resources as a crutch
Until you go to move and find it weighs too much

And I don’t intend to be a disciplinarian
But there’s only so many bones a dog can be carryin’
Before he’s gotta dig a big hole and start buryin’
Other hungry pups don’t think it’s egalitarian

Contrarian barbarians raidin’ the agrarians
Authoritarians burnin’ the books of the librarians
Hilarious humanity has made it this far
I’m just trying to protect my fuckin’ dog from a car

Instead of just collectin’ all the shit and heavin’ it
Shed it set it down a bitch ya best be leavin’ it

Every single time that a vehicle drives by I cry
Leave it
Leave it
I don’t want anxiety drivin’ your suicide guy
Leave it
Leave it
Got All kinds of wild violent times outside just
Leave it
Leave it
But I’ll always try to ride life right by your side, bud
Leave it
Leave it

8. MEMETACINE™

I been assistance resistant
For my entire existence
Always written these missives
against this viral insistence
With a mystic’s persistence
I keep my physical distance
while attempting to connect
All these disparate instants

Deadly influential business bids us binge just like piglets
At the titties of the biggest piggies rationin’ the spigots
All these bigots cashin’ in manipulating the system
Just to see how many billions of bills this shit gets ’em

The juxtaposition of dissonant images framed as fact
Eroding every act in our democratic pact
The framework of our nation being blatantly attacked
Ain’t grave enough to get inundated neighbors to react

Reticent to jettison
The merits of Memetacine™
Infection spreads again inside
The den of every denizen

Memetic transcription is how the shit spreads
Magnificently beneficial if we could all just keep our heads
But the more we find our minds and spirits willing to be led
The algorithm becomes deaf that it’s essential we’re not dead

We’re better than this, I caught myself havin’ the thought
Like we’re wastin’ away the gifts that our heredity bought
Thought sarcastic banter was givin’ it all I got
Turns out that it’s the only shit I shoulda forgot

‘Cuz it rotted away the feelings with the failure for so long
And I been violently trying to stifle the crying all along
I thought that I was special, turns out that I was wrong
So I cut communication and paste it into a song

Reticent to jettison
The merits of Memetacine™
A benison for the venison
The memory how he bled again

What have memes and bambicide in common you ask?
It’s all about what happens behind the eyes under the mask
Kill or be killed might not be the only task
But I bet it’s the one that matters to the one that’ll stand last

Neither good nor evil just natural replication
Eat fuck shit kill then take a vacation
Except vocation exploitation, can’t abandon your station
In divine efficient resource redirection innovation

So good luck motherfuckers we’re all of us gonna need it
‘Cuz the enemy we face daily ain’t easily defeated
It’s not some mythic war between a Devil and a Jesus
It’s the darkness in our hearts and how we’re allowing it to seize us

Reticent to jettison
The merits of Memetacine™
The balance of remembering
That None of us are better than

Kindling in a blaze that eventually goes out
Billowing in a haze of perpetual self-doubt
And you can sit and pout or you can stand devout
But it’s less about the message and more about the route

Louts without clout rout the trough before the drought
While prophets spout doctrine how the son will sprout
And I can’t always fathom what I’m blatherin’ about
Like Taravangian mapping the ‘gram before I’m out

9. SHODOWN

Since a peasant adolescence I could plainly see words
with my eyes closed though I know it sounds absurd
if you taught a lesson then I probably never heard
unless, I guess, delivered in a rhythm I preferred

nerdy not nerdcore, whatcha flipping birds for
communicating waiting for a savior with an encore
I’m for supporting siblings living next door more
than war torn cash whores drillin’ children offshore

bedsore cold war knocking on the back door
pandemic profits gotta get in on the ground floor
therefore before I hear a mortal civic outpour
I implore you all get your happy asses on the dance floor

Gettin awfly tired of this negative brain chatter
Actin like havin active passion doesn’t matter
underachievin ego with an overactive bladder
madder at the fat cats’ wallets getting fatter

No illusions spitting comes semiautomatic
Or my rapping demographic aint a little problematic
But I’m Comin’ off a couple summers kinda traumatic
So I’m happy being exactly this melodramatic

Flow so static It’s in UHF
Actin’ asthmatic till there’s no breath left
Need a porous beat just like the wiggles needed Jeff
So I’m putting one together like I’m dead ass deaf

Self deprecation till there’s no self left
Shelf degradation from the CES heft
puppeteer’s fingers unbelievabully deft
So unless we get some scissors man I think we’re all F’d

Gettin awfly tired of this negative brain chatter
Actin like havin active passion doesn’t matter
underachievin ego with an overactive bladder
madder at the fat cats’ wallets getting fatter

Odd combinations really get my goat
panic often grabs me at the back of the throat
Can never quite denote what qualities to emote
When reciting all the ridiculous shit I just wrote

very large scrote with average sized nuts
Attempted extroversion but I didn’t have the guts
Graceful as a klutz trying to do a triple lutz
And falling on my butt into long creative ruts

Lotta shallow cuts from being so deep
Going to hell for accidentally whackin it in my sleep
can’t abide these absolutely asinine beliefs
Comouflaging just who is a wolf or a sheep

Gettin awfly tired of this negative brain chatter
Actin like havin active passion doesn’t matter
underachievin’ ego with an overactive bladder
madder at the fat cats’ wallets getting fatter

trying Mike’s advice and like icing all my masters
meet the buddha kill the buddha webdisaster