Spice (ft. Andy Fitts)

from Trash World by Supercommuter

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Sparkling. Hot chrome in the starlight.
Stillsuit strapped on, fitting alright.
Feel heel pump pushing the water.
We gotta move like sand—shuffle down to the bottom
and then slide. Step, step, wait. Listen.
Move like people, then you threaten the mission.
And it’s dry here. That’s a fact.
And that’s why we take these bodies back.
And why bother bringing water to the dead?
Let’s just render it. Expend a little bit of energy.
Extract fluid that will send to me.
Yeah, let’s render that water instead.

Trigger that Thumper, let it sit then
wait a bit—I smell cinnamon.
Blue eyes narrow to slits and
I spot it—see it in the distance.
And I can feel it now, the ground shakes.
Scope out my spot, kneel, then wait.
Finger the hooks, yeah they’re sharp enough.
See the wave break, now start stalking up.
And then dive. Let it slide right by then
stick it in the ring, climb up, and you’re riding the beast.
And you can see the heat.
Run it through the night, keep hooks sunk deep.
Grip tight, turn it to the right when you twist it.
Spot a couple crushed by the weight when they missed it.
We risk it, riding to the well to learn
who will drink, we drive that worm.

Spring forth o spice
Sing about the mines
That the Fremen toil and the Houses reap
The Houses with bluest of eyes

Overdose, this time it’s true.
Through the future, I see you.
You’re addicted. Blue on blue on black.
Living with a prophet’s knack for the
shifted perspective and the lack of
empathetic thought and regard for the staff.
Snap back in the past, I left her
by the well with a staff and scepter.
Water rings jingling, we ride.
Praying to the God to make the night fly by.
Lay another hook. Sniffing on the Spice.
Take another look, see the fire inside.
When it wears out, we tear out.
Breathe deeply, dry this air out.
Sit a bit, lay another Thumper down then
hook a bigger worm, ride it to the mountain.
And I don’t see the future, I feel it.
Blind eye tell the mind to reveal it.
Slip in the still tent to seal it.
Weather this storm until the sand can shield.
Slow down heartrate to the minimum.
Consider this future that I’m sending them.
Decide that it’s time to take a turn.
Metamorphosize, become that worm.

Spring forth o spice
Sing about the mines
That the Fremen toil and the Houses reap
The Houses with bluest of eyes


from Trash World, released June 1, 2018
Vocals by Wheelie Cyberman, Andy Fitts
Lyrics by Wheelie Cyberman, Stenobot
Written and performed by Supercommuter
Produced by Tron Juan, Frank Ciampi


all rights reserved




Stenobot composes beats on a Game Boy. Wheelie Cyberman adds words. Tron Juan puts it all together.

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