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credits

released August 25, 2014

Travis James- guitar and vocs, Mark Sunman- accordion, piano, vocs, Aaron Hjarlmarson- drums, Recorded by Matt Braman/Sliding Scale stuidos, background vocals on Eviction and Not Sorry by Alaynha Aiello.

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Travis James & The Acrimonious Assembly of Arsonists Phoenix, Arizona

Little Black Cart distros my stuff! Checkemout.

littleblackcart.com/Not-Sorry- Travis-James-and-the-Acrimonious-Assembly-of-Arsonists.html

What's right doesn't work,
and what works isn't right.
So nothing works, and nothing's right.
That's the way that it works,
am i right?

Hit me up for info! I also have shirts/patches/stickers. (Cheap/free!)
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Contact Travis James & The Acrimonious Assembly of Arsonists

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Track Name: Special Delivery
Insignificant initiative and impotent for change.
Indifferent if your position just ends up replaced.
Embodiment; precise. Expression; conflagrating surrogate.
I know you love surprises by the look upon your face.

... and I don't care who will miss you when you're gone.

The madhouse in which they walk takes up so broad a space
that when face to face it reflects a part of you.
Dynamics too elusive to conclude who is who or what to do.
Don't just push the envelope, burn that too.

You can pack a pretty package, wrap it up...
Put an iddy-bitty pretty bow on top.
Place anonymously in the mail box.

Tick tock, tick tock...

Boom.
Track Name: Broken Kids & Bad Friends
Well, I only think the world kinda sucks when people who think the world kinda sucks complain away but remain in it.

There's no fee for a ticket out, you're free to leave or stick it out, I won't believe your sickly mouth until you're finished.

Are you finished?

Broken kids and bad friends, you've done it again.
I'm sickened and surprised, angry and amused.
Broken kids and bad friends, I commend and condemn.
Desired and despised, loved and abused.

And I've always been just a little predictable, it just took you longer to figure it out because you're duller than me, and less intrusive.

Livin in a world of serpents and mice, fucking and fights, liquor and lies.
Living and giving up aint mutually exclusive.

With a little bit of luck and a whole lot of ramen, I swear...
Track Name: My Girlfriends' Boyfriends
I can't explain this by chance, I don't believe in luck, and I don't give a fuck anymore about talking it out, what all this fighting's about.

I've had enough of the toughest of nonsense, I've got my own problems, I get it, but please leave me alone. I'm convinced that this dissonance isn't enough for me to be alone.

Seems like every best friend that I've had has a girlfriend who loves them but likes me just too much to be friends with both of them
And that doesn't mean that she loves me like that, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't like to.

What do I do? If I like you, too/two?

It's too odd to be beating the odds, it's too often something I want, so I don't give a fuck anymore about talking it out, what all this shouting's about.

I've had about the loudest of houses, and what it amounts to is I get it, but please leave me alone. I'm convinced that his shit is just an inability to be alone.

And the face that you spit on just ends up being your own.

Leave me alone.
Track Name: Everybody Lies (Truth Be Spoken)
You can try to sweep it under but no rug is big enough to face the facts that facts don't matter much to most.
You can try to keep it covered, but then there is no wonder others smother others with the facts they boast.

Though signs of truth define our minds, we read between the lines and find that there confined beside the truth resides the things we hide when we all...

Lie.

You can try to look straight into their eyes, but their eyes are just like yours, sighting phantoms and believing.
You can try to look jaded, unsurprised, but their lies are just like yours, disguised and self-deceiving.

Do you promise, do you swear by god? Your eye with a needle through it? Well, screw it. Just let sleeping dogs do it to it.

Take an oath, a token notion, choke while blowing smoke, all bonds get fuckin broken, truth be spoken.

Your closest friends and enemies pretend to be the refugees of all of human history but can't escape the truth...

That we all...

Lie.
Track Name: Everybody Dies (The Night I Almost Died)
The Night I Almost Died
On the night I almost died...

I learned Of course those amiss to the scars on their conscience unconsciously seek to scar yours.
Feeling shame won't make one behave favorably, but enslaves passions abhorred and ignored.

On the night I almost died...

I stopped measuring what I contribute, against weighing what's given to me.
I stopped measuring means to conveniently measure what I think my measurements mean.

On the night I almost died...

The bedroom door flew open, and the hallway light was blinding me, reminding me that as I fade away...
All the shadow cast before my glance was but a light upon my back that I could learn to turn and face some day.

On the night I almost died...

I asked 'what's forever for' forever, for every time forever never seems to work for me.
I asked 'what is never for' for every time it never seems that never saying never works for me.

On the night I almost died... I realized...

Everybody lies, everybody dies, everybody hides things inside sometimes so well they even hide it from themselves, some things you never ever tell, and in the mess of consciousness your intentions nest so well...

Obscured, undetermined, absurd, and free.
Track Name: All Great Accomplishments
Creativity, dishonesty: synonymous.
A lot of us mistakenly discern.
My mind aligns in ways that I make obvious:
I'm never too convinced, never too concerned.

No one else... has an influence on you quite like yourself. Fuck everybody else... interests align and find accomplices... all great accomplishments... are destructive in some regard.

The complaint goes as follows: everything's been done. As if saying that's something new to do under the sun.

The structures that we make will then begin in turn to shape the minds that shaped structures we made and so our minds take on a shape of their own design.

And though others decide to make the structures we rely on, suckers suffer and deny that though they try, no one else truly makes up our minds.

No one else... has an influence on you quite like yourself. Fuck everybody else... interests align and find accomplices... all great accomplishments...

Castles and continents, careers and scholarships, art and politics, all great accomplishments are destructive in some regard.
Track Name: Shiny New Toys
I have heart for the broken, the beaten, the lost. You must be jokin' if you think I'm not... so reckless, so vile, cmon show your stuff.

I'll keep my distance and that's close enough.

If you count on me, don't. In fact, count me out. I'd rather go out of my way to let everyone down. Not that it matters. You're obligated to hate me eventually.

I get it, but go away.

Well, I guess I reserve a small shred of respect for the recklessness of such neglect. So I suspect my crooked smirk simply reflects the tightening grip round my neck.

Oh, what a mess! Made with such effortlessness!

But I confess... I remain unimpressed. So unimpressed.

I get it, but go away.

Superficial in, superficial out. Words of praise turn to hate when they're leaving your mouth.

Superficial grin, superficial clout. You think the world spins from your merrygoround.

Easy to impress, easy to disappoint. Weaponized sadness, depression deployed.

Easy to address, easy to miss the point. Carelessly destroy all your shiny new toys.

Destroy, destroy, destroy... all your shiny new toys.
Track Name: Not Sorry
Don't waste your breath in vain saying something less thought out than it appears. If by "I'm sorry," you mean "sorry person saying nothing", then congratulations, you've made it clear.

People sanction pain and make a baiting expectation of a blanket statement? Fuck'em, lett'em try.

It doesn't matter who gets mad at you, if platitudes make attitudes less mad at you, then fuck'em, lett'em cry.

I won't feel sorry for myself cus someone else thinks apologizing means that all is well... and all's well that ends well.

This shit I see explicitly solicits my complicity, insisting I express through social mores.

There's only two things you ignore: those that were not important, and those that you wish were not important to you anymore.

Not sorry.
I won't apologize to cauterize your wounds.
Not sorry.
It seems to me the meaning is presumed.

Sick of these short-cut thoughts, sick of listenin, thinkin that's all you've got to say... I want something more.

Sick of these cure-all lines, sick of people being fucking sorry all the time... I want something more.

Not sorry.
I won't apologize to cauterize your wounds.
Not sorry.
It seems to me the meaning is presumed.
Track Name: The Defense Rests In Peace
Without a doubt, these are the hardest words I've ever written down... cus even when you hated the angry words I shout... You knew that when it hurt, I had to get it out some how.

And I wish that there was a heaven for you to go to. Cus knowing you're not here is hell for me. And I know that this is something that everyone's gotta go through.

And it's so true, it made me better to know you.

You knew I hate religion, but didn't care that you believed in god, cus you believed in me so much no god could come between.

And you were the one, not my father, your son, who showed me how to understand the things he never can.

You swore before the court, committed perjury, stood up to the judges by standing up for me. You drove me to the border, suggested that I flee, and scolded Agent Oakley when he came after me.

And I wish that there was a heaven for you to go to. Cus knowing you're not here is hell for me. And I know that this is something that everyone's gotta go through.
Track Name: Eviction Ballad
Let's make every dollar we have to spend on rent provide us with space for memories. And we can remind each other that it meant so much more than their fucking currency.

And so all the bad decisions that I criticize, they reside forever in my mind.
So here's to all the unforgettable times that your carelessness provides.

So when the power goes out, and the landlord's bargin' in, and all walls are painted over, we can all begin to reflect... that every fucking check we spend on rent is the hand around our necks.

And while their hands are in our pocket books, we're asking ourselves... what can we make the most of next?