AWS Career Suicide DIGITAL PDF

All Music by A W ilhelm Scream:
Trevor J. Reilly. Chris Levesque. Brian Robinson. Nicholas Pasquale Angelini. Nuno Pereira.
Tr a n s c r i b e d b y L e o O r l o v & S u n g j u n P a r k . E d i t e d b y S u n g j u n P a r k .
O r i g i n a l A r t w o r k b y J a r r e t t M c P h e e & E m i l y Wa l t e r
Book Layout by John Meloche & Andy Lewis
Ray ‘Dingo’ Picard - Manager
© 2016 Sheet Happens Publishing Corp. All Rights Reserved.

01 I Wipe My Ass With Showbiz
06 5 to 9
18 The Horse
35 Die While We’re Young
44 Jaws 3, People 0
54 Career Suicide
61 These Dead Streets
71 Get Mad, You Son of a Bitch!
85 Our Ghosts (Contemporary/Consensual)
96 Cold Slither II
106 Pardon Me, Thanks a Lot
113 Check Request Denied
119 We Built This City! (On Debts and Booze)
Awake. Arise. Eat. Work. Shit. Sleep. Awake. Arise.
I Wipe My Ass With
Showbiz
A WILHELM SCREAM 01 I Wipe My Ass With Showbiz

Live like a legend and die like an asshole.
You dance with the man, shake his hand, shine his shoes.
The revolution rock hits sound like shit thru your ipod.
“Put fists up like I got, now gimme the loot.”
How I tried to buy my soul back, but the devil bent me over for it.
Got me curled up in the shower scratching the letters that read:
Dear mother, I sold my soul for management.
Fog blasts will not mask a stage act unnatural.

Those timed jumps cause merch bumps, now guest list the suits.
And past the smoke hangs the backdrop, crowd screams holy mackerel.
Verse-chorus, verse-chorus, a solo, then boom.
How I tried to buy my soul back, but the devil bent me over for it.
Got you curled up in the shower scratching the letters that read:
Dear mother, I sold my soul for management.
Lyrics by Trevor Reilly

D A D G B E

5 to 9
A WILHELM SCREAM 06 5 to 9
This grin is shit-eating and fleeting like a catamaran.
It fits me better than a smile on a dead man.
Watch the hands of the ticking clock for emotional rock.
I’ve strangled necks of ages with the fabric of new words.

The bar withstood the raising which tastemakers allowed.
One fire to block the exit, two palms to block the sound
as each bulb smashed from the ceiling at the lighthouse.
And with the weight of a monolith perched on a guiltless chest.

Once a witness you can’t shake the thought of 15 year old dick ornaments
on kabuki faced jocks hair sprayed up the ass.
Wide open inviting the next pop rock star asshole.

Well I won’t be failed anymore and I won’t play fair anymore.
All eyes are on the lighthouse, collapsing.
I’ve strangled necks of ages with the fabric of new words.

The fires were amazing. Why would you put those out?
And what the gun was not erasing, these bare hands snuffed right out
when each bulb smashed from the ceiling at the lighthouse.
You won’t be failed anymore.
D A D G B E
The Horse
A WILHELM SCREAM 18 The Horse

I am just waiting in a room. I only sleep but half the time.
I am berating onlookers now, silently greeting pleasant eyes.
Hello.
I am just waiting in a room. My mind will slip from time to time.

I am relaying from the roof now messages bouncing from the wires.
It’s another day of fucking up a race horse.

Water mains will rinse off the mud.
Burn away the mark of our maker now while we’re alive.
I am just waiting in a room. My body lets the tale unwind.

It tells how money turns the world round. This body welcomed its demise.
It’s another day of fucking up a race horse. Water mains will rinse off the mud.
Burn away the image, pull the blinders down.
And with hope a sound will mean the end.
Our monikers are phrases uttered. He was wakes the Others.

His family is dead.
They followed a course towards hell. How are we gonna save ourselves?
Lasix. Selenium. Thrush. Rain rot. Premarin. Dragged by the nose trotted out for the motorists.
Foal scours. Paralysis. Puncture site abscesses. Sodium pentobarbitol.
Euphoriants. Glutamine. Zithromax. Cialis. Celebrex.
No one is safe til my horse wins again.
The bastard strangle of this hateful world is a captive bolt gun.

We’re disposable.
Why are we so angry? Why are we so bored?

Why are we so angry? We can’t say no.
Not any more. Til my horse wins again.

D A D G B E

Die While We're Young
A WILHELM SCREAM 35 Die While We're Young

It’s been years since I sold my soul. What a life: no advice and no guidance.
Worked through the weekend at my bullshit job with the pumps and the mops and the tire irons.
Now us slaves break bread and go to work.

And these pigs will tread on our backs.
Every bastard to pass through the grinder can just laugh at the mania of his own nerves.
I had to go to class but just drove on through the rain and fog up route six past the mall.
Drank through paychecks, they don’t last so long.
But Monday we’re on.
Please, Monday, come.
Now us slaves break bread and go to work.

And these pigs will tread on our backs.
Every bastard to pass through the grinder can just laugh at the mania of his own nerves.
And embossed in the gold top half of his nickel plated watch: “let’s die while we’re young.”
While we’re still young.
While us slaves break bread and go to work, where sick pigs will shit down our backs.
Every bastard to pass through the grinder our resolve is a reminder we are guts and bone.
And attached to a three ring binder, reminders of our old pact: let’s die while we’re young.
But now we’re too old for that.

D A D G B E

Jaws 3, People 0
A WILHELM SCREAM 44 Jaws 3, People 0

Let’s get the fuck out of here!
Don’t test the captain’s validity or his vulnerability.

I’ve seen the necks unnaturally twisted, craned to stars in the sky.
I’ve felt the chill upend the happiness of idiots in minutes; they clutch their jewelry tight and say “how lucky am I!”
And like a drunk spills boons on his varsity letter,

can we forgive a ship of fools for what they don’t know better? I guess not.
“Man I hope he’ll piss himself.”
Analyze this room. Grab that mop and broom and clean it up.
Man I hope he shits himself when the rest of the shipwrecked long drowned in their graves make a claim on the souls of the
heartless fakes.
“Please help, my party flew away with the ocean mist.

I narrowly escaped to the roof.”
But when the Night Rangers found me (dead, but for my liver)
and said “don’t tell me you love me”, abhorrent and deliberate.
How we ruined the day’s remains.
Sinful.
A hero’s humility is a foolish amenity. Cups of coffee speed the heartbeats of the soonest to die. I saw the first blood in the
water, someone’s mother or daughter. I wait for Troutman; Give me clearance for this chopper to fly.
Because they were jumping off the backs of only sons, offering up light snacks of younger ones.
“Well, how fast could our legs run?”
Let’s get the fuck out of here.

The weak are screaming for the captain but the captain ain’t here.
How we ruined the day’s remains. Sinful. The bodies splashed like paint.
To see so many scattered cockroaches running from the light.
Oh, when I saw them floating out to the river, the cold inside my stomach was a hunger to me.
And if the devil makes a mess of all the raw meat, let him be.
Oh how my captain sailed it straight up the middle, but the crooked lines are quicker when you’re snorting them in.
Because if the devil’s at your door you leave it open.
Let him in.

E A D G B E

Career Suicide
A WILHELM SCREAM 54 Career Suicide

Run, motherfucker. Run.
Will you jump with me through the fire?
In these dark places evil hosts pad their savings, spent on younger faces.
It kills me to act surprised, so why don’t you just say no?
If you’re mad at the world, no matter, as my fake heart concedes to your fake love.
Jump, motherfucker. Jump.

Will you burn with me on the pyre?
When the fires have died, you gotta lengthen your stride.
You better run, motherfucker. Run.
Lyrics by Nuno Pereira and Trevor Reilly

D A D G B E

Photo: Luis Ascanio

These Dead Streets
A WILHELM SCREAM 61 These Dead Streets

We went away to the mountains.
To corporate restaurants, corporate food.
Mama and papa got liquor and gun stores torching this city down.
I had a thought and I lost it.

It was a monument, decent and pure.
Took out a razor and made my own Picasso.
Hold me when I’m ready now.
I made it far, to the bleeding of your heart’s remains.

To the point I care about your lies.
When the mayor owns a pizza chain and we’re sick of moving, we decide...
I’m gonna wreck this.

And like a snake sticks to its hole,
he won’t come out til the sun soaks up these dead streets.
On the way back from the mountains stopped by the cemetery, drank to our youth.
Thought of our ages and stopped it.
We blame our diets on changes in mood.
We made it far, to the bleeding of your heart’s remains.

To the point I care about your lies.
When the mayor owns a pizza chain and we’re sick of moving, we decide...
I’m gonna wreck this, and like a snake sticks to its hole,
I won’t come out til the sun heats up these dead streets.
And I know we’re gonna make it because your heart’s in your intentions.
You and me, we will resurrect these dead streets.
We went away to the mountains. We only stayed for a night.

D A D G B E

Photo: Cindy Frey

Get Mad, You Son of a Bitch!
A WILHELM SCREAM 71 Get Mad, You Son of a Bitch!

If I could saw my way through this solid dead grass, would the paradise I’ve found be worth my time?
If I could somehow undo or make your soul stop the grind.
Can you count your loves in order of how they died?
Well, I could too.
And now I feel like sinking in to the wall I built with these mitts.
I loved it in my way, and now I pray for its decay.
The more I make plans, the more I get depressed.
It’s as useless as business: the means to our end.
When it kills to look your way; the striped noose, the number 2 fade.
The classic case.
I took a piss in every ocean, so fuck the world.

I made a mess, and when the son of god is coming, drop the rake and stop running.
Get mad, you son of a bitch!
Every muscle is gripping tight for life.

As the worm turns, out the slug slips, past our eyes.
If we turn our backs, how can we stop the knife?
If the world turns back around, will it notice us trying to burn down the last tree on the lot of the last drug mart?
Make me honest. Give me solace. Get me over the motions.

Inspire the next way to go. Money plays us. It recruits everybody.
Join them. We’ll beat them ourselves.
In the end did it get to you? In the end did it wear on your heart?
In the end did it get to you?
When the son of god is coming, drop the rake and start running. Get mad.
Stand defiant to the mission and the way that it was given.
Get mad, you son of a bitch!
Tell me why you did it. In the end, did it get to your heart?
I know how it feels when everything falls apart in the end.

E A D G B E

Photo: David Neitz

Our Ghosts
(Contemporary / Consensual)
A WILHELM SCREAM 85 Our Ghosts (Contemporary/Consensual)

Sink traps without a catch. The last grocery bags stacked up in a pile.
A laundry sack; scratched for the automat.
The cats figure that you’ll be gone for a while.
We could not block the arrows that poisoned your heart.

Betrayed from beginning, now too spoiled to trust.
We’d work on an ending, but where would we start?
I won’t pass my judgements for judges to judge.
Just hashing out contingents with your ghost
The meaning-well, misguided talking shit committee gathers.

When their tragedy ignites a fire: dormant, weeping, battered.
And the pattern is embarrassing. It only makes it sadder.
Now I finally realize it & I wish it didn’t matter at all.
Don’t push, don’t pull. Act, enabler. Guilt pays off in full. Pay your maker.
I’ll be opposed to every argument, be ill with every lie.
I’m not looking to be hero. I’m not looking for a fight.
I’m working out contingents with your ghost.

Sorting through specifics with your ghost.
Explaining my position to your ghost.
I’m seeing double vision with our ghosts.

D A D G B E

Cold Slither II
A WILHELM SCREAM 96 Cold Slither II

Cobra: Dead weight.
The world got dropped, left covered in rust.

We’ll rule it with an iron fist behind a drum beat again.
It’s all over you motherfuckers. The moral to story is shit to a rug.
Two fingers up if judgement comes and one keg stand for satan.
Weak hearted sorry fakers, in times of danger they just fold up and run.
If you are, you are dead weight.
Infections spread like iron to rust.

The cure for the disease like chain links surrounded me.
Sometimes they are.
And we might just show the world the hopeless anger in us.
Every other day is just more time to kill.
We want to wake to find the sound in aching waves from our hearts.
Nevertheless, we’re just staring at a wall.
Manners, missed. Conscience! Where are you now? Left staring at a wall.
Before that sound forces us to stop, drop, and run, hear me now or watch the bodies pile.
Weak hearted sorry fakers, in times of danger they just fold up and run.
If you are, you are dead weight.
When all the monumentous lecherous imitations you pull off start wearing off to show what you are,
if you are, you are dead weight.
Lyrics by Trevor Reilly and Nuno Pereira

D A D G B E

Pardon Me, Thanks a Lot
A WILHELM SCREAM 106 Pardon Me, Thanks a Lot

Blood pressure is headed south. Servant becomes the master now.
The greediest sons of a bitch alive. They came to bleed our city dry.
Your ashes are dust to us. Born to money and fucked it up.
The greediest sons of a bitch alive won’t buy us all.
Backpedaling and preaching like you’re putting out a fire.

You practice your pleasantries while you’re draped over the wire:
“Pardon me, well thanks a lot.”
We were coming back to life. But Brutus couldn’t resist the knife.
The greediest sons of a bitch alive. Shame on us all.
But soon we will expose you for your ignorance and lust.
We’ll keep our talking dirty while we drag you through the mud.
We’ll vilify your slanderings while you’re under the gun.
A most hideous thing, denial.

D A D G B E

Photo: Maria Vanina

Check Request Denied
A WILHELM SCREAM 113 Check Request Denied

I see you again, a painful reminder.
A casualty of aquaintence, looking for the first fuck up.
God knows you must be tired.
The cross you bear, your favorite shelter.
The forget me not of that loyal temper. Smell ya later friends.
Who’s gonna pay for this shit? Well, that depends.

You’re sad that you had to miss it. But you’re glad weren’t involved.
When a shock to the ribs or a kick to the head didn’t open up your lying eyes,
despite the anger and dissent, with our regrets, your check request’s denied.
I stared at heaven through the gates of hell.

Liked the weather, couldn’t stand the smell.
And still I spill out razors from my bitter eyes.
Tall as a banana fence, blasting cigarettes.

Dull as any hammer gets. Twice the mess.
Don’t trust me or my temper. When I get drunk I lie.
Some dummies got the affluence to match their madness.

Started off at size eleven, moved to Cohassett, built a dollhouse for a month and cried.
They’re splitting at the seams, so why am I?
I stared at heaven through the gates of hell.

Liked the weather, couldn’t stand the smell.
And still I spill out razors from my bitter eyes.
It’s the blood from the rock that you can’t get enough.
That razor’s love for bitter me.
Who’s botching up the harmony?
With a smile that said I’m guilty, I stood up: I left heaven at the gates of hell and I am never going back.
Lyrics by Nuno Pereira and Trevor Reilly

D A D G B E

We Built This City!
(On Debts and Booze)
A WILHELM SCREAM 119 We Built This City! (On Debts and Booze)
Seeking out an honest living soul. Checking every body for a pulse.
Lifting every eyelid for a glimmer of evil left to give meaning to meaningless.
That much I’d die for.
Searching through this body stack for hours, from the bottom.
Pride is gone the night we sink to the bottom.
We’ll never be one of them

Listen as the chorus marching Union roars like a lion.

This old man with hat in hand just said it:
We built this city on debts and booze.
Twelve years of debt and I’ll be paying it off with blood and sweat, but it means nothing at all.
I’ll pay the price til I die.
And every jaded hero clings to his worth, in it for paychecks, moving units and merch.
But I decline to ever be one of them.
Legs on the ottoman and head in a mosh. Sharp like an astronaut but dull as a rock.
An angel’s sigh: damn right; we got a problem now.
I’m mimicking the drum fills with my head on the wall.
The voice of god comes thru the morning alarm.
Awake. Arise. Awake. Arise.
Wake up.
I’ve laughed before but not so heavy as a fire and brimstone hilarity mass
that said we’ll be there for the end of it all by cutting off the strings
we used to pull and reaching deep for thoughts and ways to bring us back to better days.
Til king and queen pass out drunk off their power, we’ll stand in light of evil eyes forever.
We’ll be there for the end of it all.

We’ll be there for the end of it all.
To stand in light of evil eyes, forever strangers, at the bottom.
D A D G B E
I Wipe My Ass With Showbiz
5 to 9
The Horse
Die While We’re Young
Jaws 3, People 0
Career Suicide
These Dead Streets
Get Mad, You Son of a Bitch!
Our Ghosts (Contemporary/Consensual)
Cold Slither II
Pardon Me, Thanks a Lot
Check Request Denied
We Built This City! (On Debts and Booze)
© 2016 SHEET HAPPENS PUBLISHING CORP

WWW.SHEETHAPPENSPUBLISHING.COM

AWS Career Suicide DIGITAL PDF

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

AWS Career Suicide DIGITAL PDF

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

All Music by A W ilhelm Scream:

Ray ‘Dingo’ Picard - Manager

© 2016 Sheet Happens Publishing Corp. All Rights Reserved.

A WILHELM SCREAM 01 I Wipe My Ass With Showbiz

Fog blasts will not mask a stage act unnatural.

Lyrics by Trevor Reilly

A WILHELM SCREAM 02 I Wipe My Ass With Showbiz

A WILHELM SCREAM 03 I Wipe My Ass With Showbiz

Watch the hands of the ticking clock for emotional rock.

I’ve strangled necks of ages with the fabric of new words.

And with the weight of a monolith perched on a guiltless chest.

Wide open inviting the next pop rock star asshole.

All eyes are on the lighthouse, collapsing.

I’ve strangled necks of ages with the fabric of new words.

You won’t be failed anymore.

Lyrics by Trevor Reilly

A WILHELM SCREAM 18 The Horse

I am just waiting in a room. My mind will slip from time to time.

It’s another day of fucking up a race horse.

I am just waiting in a room. My body lets the tale unwind.

Our monikers are phrases uttered. He was wakes the Others.

No one is safe til my horse wins again.

The bastard strangle of this hateful world is a captive bolt gun.

Why are we so angry? Why are we so bored?

Lyrics by Trevor Reilly

A WILHELM SCREAM 19 The Horse

A WILHELM SCREAM 20 The Horse

A WILHELM SCREAM 35 Die While We're Young

Now us slaves break bread and go to work.

Now us slaves break bread and go to work.

But now we’re too old for that.

Lyrics by Trevor Reilly

A WILHELM SCREAM 36 Die While We're Young

A WILHELM SCREAM 37 Die While We're Young

A WILHELM SCREAM 44 Jaws 3, People 0

Don’t test the captain’s validity or his vulnerability.

And like a drunk spills boons on his varsity letter,

“Please help, my party flew away with the ocean mist.

How we ruined the day’s remains.

Let’s get the fuck out of here.

Let him in.

Lyrics by Trevor Reilly

A WILHELM SCREAM 45 Jaws 3, People 0

A WILHELM SCREAM 46 Jaws 3, People 0

A WILHELM SCREAM 54 Career Suicide

Jump, motherfucker. Jump.

Lyrics by Nuno Pereira and Trevor Reilly

A WILHELM SCREAM 56 Career Suicide

A WILHELM SCREAM 60 Career Suicide

A WILHELM SCREAM 61 These Dead Streets

I had a thought and I lost it.

I made it far, to the bleeding of your heart’s remains.

I’m gonna wreck this.

We made it far, to the bleeding of your heart’s remains.

We went away to the mountains. We only stayed for a night.

Lyrics by Trevor Reilly

A WILHELM SCREAM 62 These Dead Streets

A WILHELM SCREAM 63 These Dead Streets

A WILHELM SCREAM 70 These Dead Streets

A WILHELM SCREAM 71 Get Mad, You Son of a Bitch!

I took a piss in every ocean, so fuck the world.

Every muscle is gripping tight for life.

Make me honest. Give me solace. Get me over the motions.