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Destruction

by Buck Mulligan

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1.
Lights were all undone Lights were all undone And the reasons were too many By far I told you: • I was a cold neurotic man • I was a deeply wounded man • I had looked for feelings (in the most obsessive way) I’m looking forward To burning All the flesh of your eyelids To see your black eyes devouring me Devouring me We smoked cigarettes by fours And climbed the virgin walls Of my past (Oh, my telltale soberness) What would happen to you? What would happen to this place If I don´t come back? Nothing. Just nothing.
2.
Are you gone? Or is just that you’re dreaming silence in the pale corners of this cold room? It is dark, Much darker than last night: now we can feel the burden of each other’s words, And they’re too heavy for both of us. What you call my heart Is just a boy diving in two liters of cheap rancid wine. Isn’t suicide The simplest answer to the question ‘how much is this gonna last’? Well, I know it’s not such a feasible plan. I ain’t fucking Jesus Christ Neither someone who can sacrifice his flesh for some human love, So just stop trying To show me your wounds waiting for my pain to be a proper cure, Because pain is an unaimable gun. It’s been too long Since last time that we parked on the edge of the road for a fuck. It was fun But now I don’t even drive and I pretend to be always too tired, So I guess you’ll have to jerk-off this time. I’ve said I ain’t Jesus Christ But I do carry a cross Made of untestified self-pity and vices And silences firing me.
3.
Dennis Hopper, some years ago, glazed his beard and so did I this morning: I slipped my face between the sharp-as-knifes legs of an open-minded woman and I arose feeling closer to Art. Like this, I’ve made waste of every woman, like the poet of the one-night-longing songs. And I’ve tried to turn every wound into word in the most obsessive way. Are my verses now much more convincing? Do they look completely insane? That’s it: that air of mentally-tortured genius is what I’m trying to get. So I’m trying not to stay sober or, at least, to keep my eyes like in flames. I spend afternoons ‘round the alley giving the air of being strayed. I’m closing the doors to my former rooms. One by one. With forced disdain, with blank nights, with unnatural days. I’m driving away. I’m carelessly driving away like Pound or like Cave, like every fucking man who really got a piece of dark fame. I’m driving away. I’m driving away because past’s so uninspiring for it’s so real and plain. When mixing memory and desire things get out of way. I feel a bit like Francis Bacon after having bought two halves of a cow: dragging them home all through the amazed market.
4.
Last night I dreamed of two snakes devouring your little sweet face: I did nothing but watch. So now you’ve just faded out and I can’t see clearly your eyes or your lips, in my head, when I masturbate. I’ve tried to feign a taste for your arty shit but I’ve fallen into a hole of blank nights and critic reviews. Like when you said you liked Godard and I went and watched like 30 % of his stuff: It was just a bore. It was a fucking bore. So I’ll stop saying you are my light, my Jesus, my Ono, my heart and my life, For I need none of them.
5.
Driving 03:56
I was driving (just for the ride) down in Athens a white mid-size car And I was waiting for you to start your phony fire I'm just getting on the lights I'm just getting on the lights Yes, I'm driving through the nothingnew and there's no glasses containing blood And I was hoping this sky was just neither this nor that So that I can just get on naming it I'm just getting on naming it
6.
Destruction 04:38
God, look how, in a five-years’ time I’ve become darker and I’ve changed my name to Buck. Now, you know I’m prone to boredom and prone to start again and again. And it’s taking me too long, it’s taking me so long burying my own corpse. But it’s almost done and winter’s almost gone and we’re still apart in this cold backyard. I wait for destruction to treat us like sons and to take us from darkness to the open road. (We lack a road) The man in me and the monkey in me and the you in me think the same: that I’m a cruel man swimming in my own blood, but I think I’m just quite devoted. All my etceteras and all of my lies walk outside. and so will I.

about

'Destruction' is the debut EP by singer-songwriter Buck Mulligan.

credits

released June 22, 2016

All music and lyrics by Buck Mulligan

Celia Infante: piano.
Marcos Merillas: guitars.
Benjamin Rumeau: drums, percussion.
Mariem Diané: backing vocals.
Buck Mulligan: vocals, guitars, piano, organ, synth, bass, harmonica.

Recorded, mixed and produced by Buck Mulligan
Paris, spring 2016


THANKSGIVING LITANY

Firstly, I’d like to thank Celia for being a steady shoulder from the beginning and a high-class musician. Also Marcos for his astonishing sound during all this time; Benjamin for his great rhythms in these recordings; Arturo for his aesthetic-artistic-human effort; Mariem for her beautiful voice; Mirko, Pablo, Elisa, María and Carlos, who once took a part in this project; my family and friends for the support; the OMP family for the first chance (specially Javi and Jose for their help and advices); Mario for his help in my first steps and James for his remarks on the lyrics.
Thanks to everyone who made this possible and THANK YOU, you sweet listener.
Much love,
-BM, Paris, 2016.

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