Toxic Pocketbook

by Rin Tin Tiger

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    Toxic Pocketbook in printed wallet with lyrics on the inside left panel. First pressing.

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1.
there's a buoy in my stomach that wobbles 'round and makes me sick there's an airplane stuck in my brain that says to get it's engine checked there's a thorn bush in my throat always breaking up my words and a parasite inside my hide that says it was there first you gotta go go move apart parcels gotta sift through your letters be a better fossil everyone's made of sandpaper they shave me down a bit and their words all full of hollow smoke throw my mind into a coughing fit all this mercury rising in my legs makes me prone to a hot head i got the ocean spilling out my mouth and i barely know how to swim tectonic plate's shifting behind my old left shoulder blade and bike horns always honking when i got something serious to say there's a turtle dove like a bandage that i lean on though not by choice it's those jitterbugs in my fingers that know my name and how to use force they're using force! can you bleach my bones? factor in the cost, and take out a loan you gotta go!
2.
Pretty Looks 03:23
an injection of time straight to the vein from the long hand of the clock that's red with the life it's drained an umbrella flew from the tip of my tongue to shield us from the truth of what we'd become what we've become and now the moth bitten cloak of the night sky creeps into my bed where you'd lie no! i'm just making shapes from shadows ah babe how i wish you'd been able to carve the tablet to tell of my time at the farm the childish scenario recited for crooks is wasted on idle minds just for pretty looks
3.
Oregon Yard 02:52
days and days and days of daisy chains wrapped the stem around my ankle and now something's changed they got my prints down at your station and i found a lock of your hair in my dresser drawer again if you could just for once look hideous and i could just for once get serious then we would be just like that oregon yard overgrown in the rain, yellowed in the sun not pretending like we aren't
4.
Birdsthroat 02:45
every now and then i find some way to stay afloat that in turn makes me feeble and as silent as a ghost i try to claw my brain for answers but i get this mocking gloat it says you got yourself the body of a man but you got a birds throat the tide is ever rising i can hear it with my stethoscope i'm supposed to build a net but i got barbed wire for rope i been fishing with the blunt end of a rotten cantaloupe and all the cat fish swear with their last breath of air that i got a birds throat the helicopter flew low to take off my head but to my surprise i ducked in time and it hit the wall instead and it said "you got too much fight, better find yourself resigned to die before you lose control" you gonna lose control my friend i've lost control have you seen my beak and my wings and heard me sing in the morning? i got that birds throat!
5.
Loud Man 02:37
i saw a man throw a body into a furnace but that was old stress and i've gotten over it dragon chimney holding pastel society inside in a canyon surrounded by coyotes i hope they don't bite this is the sound of the loud man when he grows quiet the rain spells out braille on my window but i can't read it though i know it's in-human and it's beautiful though recklessly delicate the sequins and the dirty boys in jackets are gathering constantly to smoke cigarettes and take photographs confirming their authenticity i try to speak with them but they hear me like a man spitting through cracked teeth they say you sound just like you we'd like you if you sounded just like me this is the sound of the loud man when he's been deprived...
6.
Funeral 02:09
i see the sparrows are gathering and singing all in unison i see the burglars are sharing their spoils and growing into wealthy men i see the product of this timeline running circles around old wisdom and in the mirror although i try to fight it i see who i'll be and who i've always been i see tired traditions and dead letters pulling the wool over eyes of children led by leashes through labyrinths so far from anything divine i see the council men counting their coin and lining tired workers in rows and then calling out the sick and tell them they must continue work if they expect a funeral.
7.
Weapon 04:43
where is my palette i'm white as rind parasites done come made a mess of my mind and where is my whisky where is my wine jesus christ i don't know what to do with this blood on my thighs i'm a shadow i'm an echo and i feel just like a reflection i think i'll go naked in the snow searching for angels cause i couldn't reassure you enough you know my invitations aint precise and i'll cut my collar low so it makes sense i'd give my body just to lose my head where is my telephone that old land line that would keep me waiting for your voice sometimes and where is her throat i wonder and i don't know what have i done with my weapon tear at my skin you can have it i've lost it again sick from habit lain with a witch thrown me into traffic hey i'll bear this infant my love and i can share it
8.
i ain't got no friends you know i ain't got no money! i ain't got no friends i'm a bum dressed up in all my dirty laundry i lost my job to some kid and no one else seems to want me i ain't got no love you know i ain't got no sweetie i ain't got no love i'm a bum got my songs and that's all that keeps me company i lost my baby for their sake i'd give my life up for the stage so she don't want me you better swallow your fear your face is covered in soot write it all down in your toxic pocket book if it's gonna hurt boy, you better make it good! i ain't got no sense for all the time i've spent thinkin i ain't got no sense i'm a bum sho aint dumb but i don't stop when my breaks start squeaking cause i lost my voice to a wolf parade that ran away when the doctor came to check my symptom

about

Recorded live to two inch tape at Tiny Telephone in San Francisco, CA by Jacob Winik. No computers were used in the recording or mixing of this album.

credits

released July 24, 2012

Engineered by Jacob WInik.
Mixed by Jacob Winik.
Mastered by John Golden.
Cover photo by Aaron Blumenshine

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Rin Tin Tiger San Francisco, California

Rin Tin Tiger is a high energy alternative twang trio from San Francisco, CA with lot's of lyrics and lot's of groove. The sound is often described as a blend between early Bob Dylan, Violent Femmes, and Tupac. They have shared the stage with a wide range of bands from Blues Traveler to The Lumineers to Minus the Bear and a plethora of emerging talent all along the West Coast. ... more

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