Warning: May Contain Nuts

by Brimaxian (Brian M. Weidemann)

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1.
06:12
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04:45
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03:47
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04:42
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03:43
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credits

released October 7, 2004

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Brimaxian (Brian M. Weidemann) Santa Ana, California

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.

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Track Name: Split
It's only when I count the days
I recall your number, missing points in bold.
I add and then I take away
All the memories of places you would hold.

Your period replaced your prayers
And decimated all my cares.

I have to hold you ... accountable.
I need to have you ... sign the bottom line.
I dream about you ... with someone else.
I want to kiss you ... goodbye.

I never thought you'd turn away
All the opportunities you thought were gold.
I had to hold my stock at bay
Since you never traded shares I hadn't sold.

In any age, a single day
Is the length of time I'll pass before I'm old.
I know your time was tailor-made.
Every stitch and wrinkle hid the times you'd fold.

To break my heart you'd split my hairs
And stitches never fixed the tears.

I have to hold you ... accountable.
I need to have you ... sign the bottom line.
I dream about you ... with someone else.
I want to kiss you ... goodbye.

You spun a tale, I turned a phrase,
We split and yet the cleavage stays.

I have to hold you ... accountable.
I need to have you ... sign the bottom line.
I dream about you ... with someone else.
I want to kiss you ... goodbye.

©2004 Brian Michael Weidemann
Track Name: Distraction
I remember once the notes I scrawled,
Inspired on the nights you sprawled.
You weren't aware you weren't the theme.
You weren't at all, outside my dream.

But the sentiments did not exist
The first time we had never kissed.
I've mulled at last about my mind,
And on the food for thought I dined.

And now I can't relay my meaning.
Are the pillars of knowledge still leaning
Against the walls we've built to cage ourselves in?
If the foundation's impure, do the floors need cleaning?
Do our urges let us out, or do they let us sin?

With your heart on sleeve, your mind's a crown.
I made you up and dressed you down.
You swooped through memory's clouded skies,
A luring sight for soaring eyes.

But …

You must leave me while I concentrate
On what you can't appreciate.
I dreamt your face, of that I'm sure.
I must repeat, “You never were!”

And now I can't relay my meaning.
Are the pillars of knowledge still leaning
Against the walls we've built to cage ourselves in?
If the foundation's impure, do the floors need cleaning?
Do our urges let us out, or do they let us sin?

(I lay my thoughts in line,
An ordered sense fulfills me that much more,
But then you wax and buff and shine
The ornaments and frills I must ignore.)

©2004 Brian Michael Weidemann
Track Name: What The Hell
And once again my meaning failed to find its way.
My voice has spoken every word you wouldn't say.
I penned a lyric that could never quite convey
What the hell I'd erased.

I thought intently on the course that sent me here;
Appeared refracted through, of course, a pint of beer.
Inebriated as I was, I stood to peer
At the hell I had faced.

And when I sense that something's wrong
You correct me.
I'm sacrificed unto the throng.
Resurrect me.
Nothing I've ever said was heard,
Incidentally,
Yet all I ever saw was blurred
So intensely.

And once again a set of curves leads me astray.
Deceitful detours skirt the issue, cause delay.
Do I distract myself from lanes or lingerie?
Oh, the hell I do!

My destination seems to be my only fate,
But where I started from is where I'll destinate.
Too bad you left, 'cause there's still more of me to hate,
So to hell with you!

Through hell you made me read the signs;
You have schooled me.
I'm taut, but just between the lines
You have pulled me.

And when I sense that something's wrong
You correct me.
I'm sacrificed unto the throng.
Resurrect me.
Nothing I've ever said was heard,
Incidentally,
Yet all I ever saw was blurred
So intensely.

©2004 Brian Michael Weidemann
Track Name: Thief
I left a tip
So as not to offend,
But it was just a means
As I hoped to reach her end.

She's such a thief, I do believe.
She put the crook into my neck.
She swiped my card and took her leave
And stole my heart behind my back.

Should I go back,
Or is it much too soon?
I can't let her forget,
But she can't know that I swoon.

She's such a thief, I do believe.
She put the crook into my neck.
She swiped my card and took her leave
And stole my heart behind my back.

I'd carried down the total,
Signed my name to the receipt.
She'd hit me with her winking eyes,
But I had missed the beat.
I took my carbon copy
As a precious souvenir.
She turned, to my relief.
I'd hid my thoughts, it would appear.

Now I inspect my flourish;
Not my name, but just above.
I see she stole my concentration
Since I'd signed the thing, “With Love”!

She's such a thief, I do believe.
She put the crook into my neck.
She swiped my card and took her leave
And stole my heart behind my back.

©2004 Brian Michael Weidemann
Track Name: Woman's Inhumanity To Man
I tried to be impressive with a prefix, once or twice.
She said I must have more seductive things in mind.
I said she'd be surprised if such a suffix would suffice,
But then she liked a man who did it from behind.

As such, my wit is much too swift.
She caught my eye but not my drift.

She disapproved, then disappeared,
And caused disaster as I'd feared.
But she had fled on false pretenses
Or the fact that I was weird
And finished all her sentences,
But no one else had volunteered.

She crawled away while running back to stay another night
Because she never knew what she would do instead.
Her mind would often wander off a cliff and take to flight
And I could never get her down to line my bed.

She disapproved, then disappeared,
And caused disaster as I'd feared.
But she had fled on false pretenses
Or the fact I persevered
With metaphors and references
When no one else had volunteered.

So what is wrong with women who must sugar-coat the lies
When they have never used a sweetener in their tea?
They say it's better bitter, but her bastardized replies
Leave several lumps stuck in my throat, apparently.

As such, my wit is much too swift.
She caught my eye but not my drift.

She disapproved, then disappeared,
And caused disaster as I'd feared.
But she had fled on false pretenses
Thinking that the end had neared.
I can't refute the silences
She courteously volunteered.

©2004 Brian Michael Weidemann
Track Name: Posterity
Record and design,
Dot the I's, cross the line,
Reboot and erase,
Drop a line, hold my place.
The tedium is therapy.
The medium's a melody.
As alumnus I decline
Since I've come without a trace.

I'm tacitly denying the world of my contribution,
(I have my own thoughts to say)
Even though it's my own damned revolution.
(My own part to play)
But it's for posterity's sake alone
That I indulge my craft.
No one called upon me, yet I still hung up the phone.
And I turned, left, and laughed.

Restring and fine-tune,
Choose a pick, make her swoon,
Release and forget,
Fix the odds, break a sweat.
And yet I pen another song.
In debt, I lend what can't belong
Anywhere. I moved too soon.
Like I care what I can't get!

I drew my poster way too big.
I don't get plastered every swig.
And while it's my own grave I'll dig,
I'll say, “At least I have a gig.”

I'm tacitly denying the world of my contribution,
(I have my own thoughts to say)
Even though it's my own damned revolution.
(My own part to play)
But it's for posterity's sake alone
That I indulge my craft.
No one called upon me, yet I still hung up the phone.
And I turned, left, and laughed.

©2004 Brian Michael Weidemann
Track Name: Altruistic Blame
Tactically, the print spells it out, cut and dry.
So, tacitly, why hint that you doubt and deny?
You never meant to read the label much.
Now you've lost your mentally unstable crutch.

Your common sense will shame your name,
Your existential claim to fame.

You aren't so very wise
When you assume you're bathed in lies.
I'm not opposed to do you kindness
But won't scrub away your blindness
Since it's you who got the soap into your eyes.
It's your sanity, Your Highness,
You should wash and sanitize.

You're welcome, though warned now, to earn common sense
On the welfare stillborn of ignorant innocence.
You're left to fight alone to sort it out,
Yet you've every right to groan and snort and pout.

Let's alter and disclaim,
As all the mystics claim.
It's always just a game
Of altruistic blame.

I'll be selfish and I'll forfeit gracefully,
Assuming all my own accountability.
I'll let your deadwood knock some sense right into me,
Though I played the better hand, or can't you see?

Your common sense will shame your name,
Your existential claim to fame.

You aren't so very wise.
You think you're dealt a run of lies.
I'm not opposed to do you kindness,
But you knock in fear of shyness.
You discard before you even realize
It's your score that sports the minus,
Not the sorts you patronize.

©2004 Brian Michael Weidemann
Track Name: Wooden Duck
The sheets of paper stagger down the table,
Each one more incomprehensible than the last.
The pages each are weighed, ready, and able.
Complete and content, I compare and contrast.

Not sure if I can,
Excuses must arise, but I must try,
Propelled by a fan.
Attempted explanations just don't fly.
I hatched this plan
But now I've written quite too many words.
Despite my wingspan
I'm flocked, together with the falling birds.

This word-play will stampede in wild herds.
The only way to survive is to run and hide.
This empty imagery is for the birds
As it never tends to launch so much as glide.

Not sure if I can,
Excuses must arise, but I must try,
Propelled by a fan.
Attempted explanations just don't fly.
I hatched this plan
But now I've written quite too many words.
Despite my wingspan
I'm flocked, together with the falling birds.

Are these the leavings chipped from writer's block?
I gather all the shavings. With some luck
I've carved a statue no one dares to mock.
Instead, behold this mighty, wooden duck.

©2004 Brian Michael Weidemann
Track Name: What's My Sine?
The songs I haven't written come to me one at a time,
Like integers with many factors, always past their prime.
The concepts with their theories have been pondered long before
The addends didn't add up nicely. Take the loss and dock the score.

Now getting to my point, it seems I met you on a plane.
The range was nicely limitless. I entered your domain.
It seemed a fair equation, next to zero I was set,
Yet you had had me squared away when I had not divided yet.

The functions of your curves delineate a graphic pun.
I'm inclined upon your slope, so can I drop you a line?
You'd pondered for a secant and replied, correctly, “One,”
When I'd taken the right angle, then, and asked you “What's my sine?”

Your quite astute perception's sharpness borders on abuse,
But you're so acute you can't be right. Forgive me, I'm obtuse.
The constant you've appended here makes my y-axis move
But since you derivate and it comes all the same, what does it prove?

The functions of your curves delineate a graphic pun.
I'm inclined upon your slope, so can I drop you a line?
You'd pondered for a secant and replied, correctly, “One,”
When I'd taken the right angle, then, and asked you “What's my sine?”

©2004 Brian Michael Weidemann
Track Name: An Amateur's Lament
When I build up my intentions you destroy without a care,
I search between the floors of loneliness. Alas, you aren't there.
I look to find the heart you took with you when absence had remained
But you dismantled and discarded all the doodads it contained.

And you left me here, now that you are gone,
Since the nature of leaving means I must move on.
I can't go with you
As you veer out of view.
You departed at dusk, and so I drink 'til dawn.

Now I could write a song that's drenched with all the classic rhymes,
Like every face/embrace, desire/fire half-a-million times
And all the oceans of emotions, love/above, forget/regret,
I bet you'd never even get that pain and rain will get you wet.

And you left me here, now that you are gone,
Since the nature of leaving means I must move on.
I can't go with you
As you veer out of view.
You departed at dusk, and so I drink 'til dawn.

And when the pint runneth over, sobriety wonders why.
And when I've pined for you under the table is when the pint runs dry.

So it may not be apparent just how many moons have passed,
Or years and years. It doesn't matter. This persistence cannot last
As I withstand the urges you've inspired from me, from the start,
And now the last thing I would ever want from you is to depart.

And if you never bent the rules, how'd you ever break my heart?

And you left me here, now that you are gone,
Since the nature of leaving means I must move on.
I can't go with you
As you veer out of view.
You departed at dusk, and so I drink 'til dawn.

©2004 Brian Michael Weidemann