We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Scantily Clad Singularity

by Brimaxian (Brian M. Weidemann)

supported by
/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.
    Purchasable with gift card

      name your price

     

1.
Let Me 04:16
My trigger pulled, you start the race. I took a shot, I had to chase. But I was blinded by your grace From seeing you won't let me wipe the smile off of my face. Fatigued and weary, I persist. I tag along if you insist. I'll chase you down if you are pissed. I've been arrested. Let me speak. You don't. You can't resist. How is it you have got control? It's either all by default, somehow my fault, or you stole. I never forfeited or flaunted my free will about. You didn't need me to, to narrow what your will allowed. And yet I've lost, I find myself in need. I don't ask. It's more imperative. I demand. I plead. Let me, let me Be at least an equal here. Let me, let me Be, when I don't volunteer. Let me, let me, Just let me whisper in your ear As if I confidently feel that I'll convince you. Let me hear. There isn't much for me to say, So I won't stutter or delay. Don't be impatient; not today! If you would only let me get this thing out of the way. You've leapt conclusions by the bound. Between us, chasms all you found. I'd put your feet back to the ground, So then why don't you let me? Why do you keep me around? I demand. I plead. Let me, let me Be at least an equal here. Let me, let me Be, when I don't volunteer. Let me, let me, If you could let me make this clear; Together we invent the wheel, and you would never let me steer. Is my defense why you offend? You purse your lips and curse. I sense The sentiment's not meant to mend (If I could own my own defense) The ties that ever had been severed. Now I fear I've persevered I plead. Allow me, as endeavored, To appear to you endeared. You kill me. I can't comprehend Why you consider me a friend. You took me like some latest trend Then took the rest, now let me rest in pieces. Let this end. Let me, let me, Let me, let me. ©2007 Brian Michael Weidemann
2.
One Act 03:42
Did she join the cast? Or did I stage auditions like a jerk? I think she'd have passed. Another desperate actress needs the work. Curtain calls won't last. Usurpers in the rafters always lurk. I've put on a show and I cannot get backstage. I wrote the script and she strayed from every page. She's only going to break my heart But she'll never even know she's playing the part. I've set the stage but I'm stuck in the pit. On closing night she'll bow. That's it. The nights are young, but will they come of age? Is it all an act? Is it myself or she who wears the mask? Did I lose my tact? And do I dim her glow in which I'd bask? I resent the fact That all I ever had to do was ask. I kept my spotlight on her act throughout the shows. I set the props, directed deftly, and I don't think she knows. And after all, they call her name, and it's someone else who hands her the rose. I've put on a show and I cannot get backstage. I wrote the script and she strayed from every page. She's only going to break my heart But she'll never even know she's playing the part. I've set the stage but I'm stuck in the pit. It's closing night. She's bowing. Shit! For me it's curtains. Strike the set in rage. ©2007 Brian Michael Weidemann
3.
You paid me a visit, Said things haven't been working out And that it's time to move on. But is it? Try as I might, I chase you into the chilled night, but you're gone without a doubt. You've said your words As if I'm the one who's wrong. The fact of the matter, though it hurts, I had the chance to sit and write. Now this is me singing a song. History is written by the whiners, Artistic license to kill … in effigy, once bitten. The shy poets and tearjerkers, composers and strummers, majors and minors, My guitar and I have power. You don't and probably never will … thus history is written. I wrote a beautiful tune And all who hear it will get tears in their eyes. It's going to be me, and not you With whom they'll side, believe, defend, and with whom they'll sympathize. Maybe you were right. After all, that wouldn't be so rich. You probably are, but it won't get the chance to come to light. I'm sensitive, dark, heartbroken, and singing … so it's you who must be the bitch! History is written by the whiners, Artistic license to kill … in effigy, once bitten. The shy poets and tearjerkers, composers and strummers, majors and minors, My guitar and I have power. You don't and probably never will … thus history is written. You're nameless, left to be forgotten, while my words are cherished still. So history is written. ©2007 Brian Michael Weidemann
4.
With painted sunsets as a backdrop We used to stroke each other longingly. Before the thinned acrylic wash subdued the hue She made impressions last, at first abstract to me. Though her technique is fine, The bristles tend to fray And she hasn't made efficient use of space. Despite the stain she thinks she sees, The fact she flees with ease'll Leave a blank that won't erase. And sparing me the bold-faced line She draws herself away, And is gone without a trace. And so she's brushed me off. With subtle tone in her expressions She framed me yet I've never been displayed. The pigment of imagination, I apply. She'll leave me in the dark despite her subtle shade. Though her technique is fine, The bristles tend to fray And she hasn't made efficient use of space. Despite the stain she thinks she sees, The fact she flees with ease'll Leave a blank that won't erase. And sparing me the bold-faced line She draws herself away, And is gone without a trace. She dipped my pen in ink and overflowed my heart. It can't be said I never suffered for my art. And so she brushed me off. ©2007 Brian Michael Weidemann
5.
My room is dimly lit, Filled with soothing solitude; An apt comparison for now. Mired in the heavy air, The thick and rigid silence, I attempt to recollect Just how the story went. Where were the words? Over the shoulder, Tossed aside, I caught a chill. For what it's worth You tried to screw me over, but I know the drill. I lurched when you walked out. Never rush to hesitate. Although, I love to watch you leave. Fired up to swallow pride. The thick and rigid silence Has a choke hold. Get a grip. And so the story goes. Where were the words? … For what it's worth You plied the nail on the head. It's not a drill. And midnight meanders by. Stop ticking. The hands belie. Dawn gives it another try, And silently so do I. So were the words Read off the handle, Off the cuff? You've got to chill. For what it's worth You bored the hole, I dropped the tool. It's just a drill. ©2007 Brian Michael Weidemann
6.
A wink and wave make me well-up. The seeping seas in my eyes swell. You're pouring liters in my cup. I overflow and can't rebel. You lure and taunt by gravity, A force of malice-free constraint. Despite our calm, consistent sea, My tides arise without complaint. If I could choose my lover, I'd be told I always could, But the truth as I believe it: you'd be mine, and always would. I wouldn't wish to override what Destiny embraced And so, without free will to guide me, I'd say Fate has damned good taste. You don't control me, nor do I; Determinism on our side. By Fate you've drawn my tears awry. Had I denied you, I'd have lied. On grounded paths I walk with you. My running heart has skipped a beat. Our destiny; devotion true: Your love fulfills where wills can cheat. If I could choose my lover, I'd be told I always could, But the truth as I believe it: you'd be mine, and always would. It's not that I'm dissatisfied. You're all that I've embraced And so, without free will to guide me, I'd say Fate has damned good taste. I'm filled with contradictions, so Can I believe I don't believe That I could choose to let you go? But, nor can you, and yet you leave! If I could choose my lover, I would wish I always could, And the truth as I'd prefer it: you'd be mine, and always would. But now I am dissatisfied. You baffle and confuse. Since you're determined to have left me, I'd have chosen you to choose. Now I can't say that you would pick me, but what have I got to lose? Would you still try to walk out on me now if you were in my shoes? Hey, you don't have to leave just yet. Please tell your Fate that you refuse! I know you've said you've thought a lot about it. Can't I change your views? Oh fine, then leave, see if I care! I guess I finally paid my dues. You think you meant enough to hurt me? Babe, you're lucky if I bruise. Oh yeah, that's it. You keep on walking, honey. Darling, you're old news … ©2007 Brian Michael Weidemann
7.
The stars like pins and needles left me struck as well as numb. I shook it off as cosmic showers came too cumbersome. But where else might one gaze to prophesize the change to come? It brewed beneath me when I sensed that something stirred, A potion for a spell that must await some spoken word. The chants and mantras slipped discretely through my ears. As striking as a voice it was, she sings the song she hears. The irony was silent meditation, Inspired intellect, and incantation. As if an aura had come over me, I find I feel this pleasant intensity. I was naked in the night, so chilled with nothing on, As I had willed, some warmth will fill me as I have my audrey dawn. The precious things and stones and gems would compliment her charm While I was never one for jewels, but what could be the harm? Now there's no better ornament to decorate my arm. If asking if the twinkling's an illusion, why does one consult the stars? In any book, it's quite a cite: allusions, but the references are ours. And so who would have known, With such the inspirations, If not the two on whom the starlight's shimmering had shown? And so we wrote the tome, in time, without the secret admirations, Nor the flirt unspoken, nor the from-afars. Hearts in singularity, a force to find A spinning pulsar beacon with incredible density. The weight was lifted; a binary system. We're pulled, entwined, And yet held stable, with a pleasant intensity. With crystal visions, clarity revealed any tricks. Our hearts had broken long before. It's time they had their fix. And I was just the Buckingham to compliment her Nicks. It brewed beneath me when I sensed that something stirred, A potion for a spell that must await some spoken word. The chants and mantras slipped discretely through my ears. As striking as a voice it was, she sings the song she hears. A healthy dose of daylight medication, An equinox endowed me with elation. As if an aura had come over me, I find I feel this pleasant intensity. I was naked in the night, so chilled with nothing on, And now I'm thrilled as warmth has filled me. I would have my audrey dawn. ©2007 Brian Michael Weidemann
8.
So you look mighty good on paper. I wish I wrote things down. The pixels on the screen depict you giving me the runaround. I'm pushing buttons and you don't seem to understand. A semi-colon and a bracket: deeper meaning than a holding hand. Let's go for three dimensions, start trying as we might. We've come a long, long way, but we've still got the width and height. I see a vast horizon. It's just so very plane. A point for each of us to stand on, a third to ground us, if we're sane. The super-traffic on this highway won't let us cross the line. I've sent you signals but you pass me up and then I pay the fine. The dial-up tone in your voice begs me down to a crawl. You think you've got my number but it's you who's hung up on me after all. Let's go for three dimensions, start trying as we might. We've come a long, long way, but we've still got the width and height. You're multivariable, easy as X, Y, Z. I still don't see the point or function. Your tangents stop you seeing me. The lack of lessons lessened what we'd learned. The page, it hasn't turned It's code, and not arithmetic. For us there could be love at the next site. I dropped some cache tonight. But we know that we just don't click. Let's go for three dimensions, start trying as we might. We've come a long, long way, but we've still got the width and height. I've browsed enough for now and I've seen too much to doubt. I'm not excited. You're one-sided. I have decided I'll log out. ©2007 Brian Michael Weidemann
9.
For now it seems I do adhere My wits about me fleetingly. Although I am consumed by fear, That's not what has been eating me. And though I am preoccupied, My vacant stare will penetrate Impending thoughts where I reside, This room in which I ruminate. At last I wax contemplative Upon that over which I'd glossed, And clarity I find will give The proof that my whole point was lost. Incessant necessity To focus my attention. Refrain from refraction, The ray-tracing fails. Restate my retraction, Or did I fail to mention? Elusive translucency, The blurring prevails. Expensive lenses, I have spent My liquid assets to obtain. While underwater, rules look bent. I broke down just to view the drain. But now with optics infinite, I have accentuated sight. Maliciously the beam was split Without a flicker, nor a flight. I'm caught by tricks of chroma-key, Yet judgment, rendered blind, will tell The punishment will fit the plea: Light sentence in a prism cell. Incessant necessity To focus my attention. Refrain from refraction, The ray-tracing fails. Restate my retraction, Or did I fail to mention? Elusive translucency, The blurring prevails. In light of scattered evidence, A concave mirror shatters my defense. ©2007 Brian Michael Weidemann
10.
All I want is not to be the next guy you reject. And so I won't express my love. Now what do I expect, As if some day you'll recognize my patience turns you on? You sweetly stay oblivious, and leave before it's gone. When I breathe your name aloud, it's private and discrete. You're hardly near enough to hear the heart withstand the beat. I never know which drift you catch. You're thrown so many bones By all the other lovesick, poor, admiring unknowns. Admiring, unknown. Admiring, unknown. Admiring, unknown. Forever, I'll be. Just like clockwork ticking out the minutes, months, and years, There comes a day when what looks like a chance with you appears. With scripts rehearsed and harbored feelings, still I'm ill-equipped. It's just my soul and dignity, and not your clothes I've stripped. Admiring, unknown. Admiring, unknown. Admiring, unknown. Forever, I'll be. ©2007 Brian Michael Weidemann
11.
He stares and faces blowing sand, A stark oasis breeze, and flaming land; And bellows out his one demand That all his doubt is doused instead of fanned. Time will tell, but I have spoken. Hour glasses cracked and broken, Desert sand with grains of truth Come spilling over shattered youth. Time will tell, but I have spoken. The scorching heat and burning lies Have left him beaten, bleeding though he tries. Through hope and luck he'll realize His will won't buckle, nor believe his eyes. At every dune he climbs and tames, It's with a tune that he proclaims: Time will tell, but I have spoken. Laws of nature bent and broken. Understand I overcome. I gain as I grow tiresome. Time will tell, but I have spoken. But age accumulates. The falling pebbles each are my own fates. Alas, I must persist. The rolling boulders pass the lives I've missed. And stronger mountains loom, But it is they who must make way to leave me room. The old have more moons passed As it's the wise who only wait out ones that last. He didn't dwell on wins or loss. His focus fell on order and chaos. The throes of passion he would toss Away would smash in paths he'd meant to cross. At every dune he climbs and tames, It's with a tune that he proclaims: Time will tell, but I have spoken. And my stride shall not be broken. Spiting centuries occurred, Alas I triumph on my word. Time will tell, but I have spoken. ©2007 Brian Michael Weidemann

credits

released December 31, 2007

All songs written, produced, performed, recorded & mixed by Brian M. Weidemann.

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Brimaxian Portland, Oregon

A persistently versatile mix of guitars, keys, synth strings, and more, in the rock, acoustic, and alternative genres. Dense, poetic wordplay sung by a semi-amateur baritone. Wry wit, hot guitar licks, and the occasional augmented sixth chord.

contact / help

Contact Brimaxian

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account

If you like Scantily Clad Singularity, you may also like: