Bug Dream

by WON TON DEATH

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about

Recorded straight to tape, no overdubs if you can believe it!

Just kidding, I made the whole thing on my laptop in my tomb-like dorm at Columbia University, New York, NY. Which is why everything sounds kind of dull and matte, especially the fucking drums. I swear I'm a great drummer IRL but with these keyboard MIDI drums it's near impossible.

Anyway here's some more sad fag music about my personal angst that maybe you can also relate to. While I enjoy the autobiographical jerkoff as a medium as much as the next guy (if not more), this will probably be the last record for a while that is so 'about' my experience.

credits

released March 21, 2016

All songs written and performed by Jake Gagne.

tags

tags: rock New York

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WON TON DEATH New York, New York

Jake Gagne

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Track Name: Pittsburgh (Sunny Dream)
CHORUS:
Take me to Pittsburgh, ride the incline
Hold my hand along the way – sunny city, sunny day
Take me to Pittsburgh, city of bridges
Have a picnic at the Point – happy city, happy boy

Skating out on the Allegheny ice
I can imagine a different life
Oh, wouldn’t that be nice

Skating out on the Allegheny ice
Nothing is ever the same thing twice, oh

CHORUS

Take me to Pittsburgh
Everything feels the same
Take me to Pittsburgh
Every day feels the same
Track Name: Ha HA HA
Where is your sense of humor?
Do you think we’ll ever speak again? (Let me tell you what I think)
I can only think this must be a joke
But you were always so matter of fact–I don’t know
I have never felt so alone

I’ll do what I have to do
Fuck the whole football team if I have to
I wanna be seen and heard
And I want you to hurt

Did you think you’d spend the rest of your life with me?
(I don’t even want to know what the answer is…
I just really hope that it isn’t a yes)
I’m not going to apologize and I’m not waiting for your apology
(Did you think you’d spend the rest of your life with me?)

I’m all jangled
I’m an addict in the making
Wanna make you hurt
Wanna make things worse

I’m all jangled
I’m an addict in the making
Trying every drug
Gotta find the one
Track Name: When I Am Alone
Will you ever, will you ever forget me?
When I am alone, I fear that nobody will ever find me
Crab canon, I’m dreaming of a Christmas night
Spend with my head between your thighs
My love ain’t like that love
I can give you everything if you want it
Track Name: Crab Canon (Bug Dream I)
Crab canon, I'm dreaming of a Christmas night
Spent with my head between your thighs
Crab canon, I lost track of time
Cuddling up with you and the Real Housewives

Crab canon, I have the sickest feeling
That something really awful is right about to happen
When you play the tape backwards
You can hear the riptides crashing
And the sudden failure of the

Whole thing seems like crap all of a sudden
I want to take it all back
And pretend I never met you

Crab canon, all the words I wrote
They squiggled off away through the wine-dark ocean
Crab canon, crab canon

Well, I forgot what I was looking for
I laid on the ground
In the kitchen of my parents’ house
And I kissed the cold linoleum

I dreamed I was a bug
Too small to be seen
Too small to be loved
And if I got crushed
No one would hear my final word: “Ugh”

When you play the tape backwards
You can hear the riptides crashing
And the sudden failure of the

Whole thing seems like crap all of a sudden
I want to take it all back
And pretend I never met you

Crab canon, I'm dreaming of a Christmas night
Spent with my head between your thighs
Track Name: Fleetwood Mac
See me walking down the street
And I look like shit
I know I’m not wrong
I’m not in love with you
I know I’m not wrong
I pause the tape and ask:
“Do you see me in your past?”

I pause the tape and ask:
“Do you see me in your past?
Should we turn back now?
Can we turn around?”

I wanna listen to Fleetwood Mac
You keep on acting like you’re better than that
I wanna listen to Fleetwood Mac (the album that I love)
You keep on acting like you’re better than that (the album that I love is called Tusk)

The album that I love
The album that I love is called “Tusk”
You don’t give a fuck (I know I’m not wrong)

I want to be alone

I pause the tape and ask:
“Do you see me in your past?
Should we turn back now?
Can we turn around?”

I wanna listen to Fleetwood Mac (I want to be alone)
You keep on acting like you’re better than that
I wanna listen to Fleetwood Mac (the album that I love) (I want to be alone)
You keep on acting like you’re better than that (the album that I love is called Tusk)
Track Name: Muscle Daddies
Don't ever trust the muscle daddies
They always wanna fuck you raw
"Just for a second", they'll say,
"Please, I promise I won't come in you."

They'll finish and they'll fall asleep
They don't care if you come
For all they care you could be anyone
I was flattered, but now I'm just sad

I'd rather be alone in my bed
Track Name: Buffalo (Bug Dream II)
I’m gonna leave New York
I can’t live here anymore
I’m gonna hit the road
I’m gonna drive away

This city has fucked me up
Long nights at the Cock, underaged and depressed
In the morning he made me pancakes
He never knew that he was my first
I never called him again

I’m gonna leave New York
I blame all of my problems
On this dissolute shithole
I need a little space
And New York threatens to suffocate
All of my ambitions

This city is a panic machine

Okay, I’m being a little over the top
I’m probably never gonna leave New York
But god, I never want to get a job
Won’t someone give me a record deal?
This one-two-five turns frowns around
I almost forgot I was mid-breakdown, oh yeah

Get me the fuck out of here
This room is ninety feet square
Get me the fuck out of here
I’m dying

I don’t mean to make a scene
It’s just my unmanaged anxiety
I know it won’t be any different if I leave
Everyone’s so good at what they do
And I wonder if I am good at something too
And will this city give me a chance to prove myself

(What am I doing with my life?
What a tired question, but it’s mine
Last night I dreamt a hundred million bugs
Were swarming in and filling up my lungs
But when I awoke, when I checked the bed
It was just me – just as it’s always been)

My shrink says Buffalo is the new SoHo
I’m trolling craigslist at 3AM
Just dreaming of the big suburban houses I could live in all alone
Hundreds of miles from all of my friends

In Buffalo the winters are cold
Averaging 93 inches of snow
And I hate snow but I also hate
Rich kids with flawless skin who make art and look like models
And dead-eyed muscle daddies with soft little cocks
And the finance bros who used to say stupid shit in class
Oh yeah New York, fuck me in the ass

You're such a dick, New York
But you make all of my whining
Sound like actual problems
I wanna dance a jig
Like some blowhard cowboy
Smoking cigarettes on the Bowery

Maybe it doesn’t have to be like this
Maybe there is another way (another way!)

Buffalo (breakdown)
Buffalo (breakdown)
Track Name: Kill the Rich
Have you ever even had a problem?
In your whole life
I want to kill the rich
Kill all of them

Fuck literally all the rich kids
Kill them and take their wealth
I’ll kill them for their perfect skin
They don’t deserve what they have, no
Fuck all the rich kids in New York City
All the cool vacations and hotel bars
Fuck their connections
They’re all such little shits
Fuck all those little shits

Kill the rich, like Robin Hood
Kill the rich, I wish I could

My judgment is swift and pitiless
My empathy is ever so limited
I am like Pluto
Living in your giant shadow
I steal what I can
And hold it with an iron hand
Track Name: You're Garbage
Here we are again
I’m not your fucking friend
I am the wind you walk against
You’re just so soft and sensitive

My cellphone rings (Are you at the house?)
You call again (No, I’m at the beach)
What do you have to say this time? (I need to talk)
(Would you come home please?)

What is there to talk about?
Track Name: The Whitney Museum
I walked through the Whitney today
Passed by the Frank Stella show on my way
Went in to interview for an internship
I thought it went well, but I never know how to feel

I got an email from the Whitney today
Thanks for coming in to interview, but no thanks
And I'm like, fuck, the job wasn't even paid
I can't give my free labor away

I almost called this song
"The Whitney Museum Can Suck My Shit"
But I know they're in the right
They saw right through me
I know they’re in the right
They know I’m lying

I don't care about a museum job
I know that it isn't really what I want, and they know too
But it hurts to have it thrown back in my face
I have no idea what it is I want to do

And I'd like that to be alright
But it's really fucking scary
And I'd like to see the Frank Stella show
But it's eighteen dollars

I almost called this song
"The Whitney Museum Can Suck My Shit"
But I know they're in the right
They saw right through me
I know they’re in the right
They know I’m lying

My friend's getting sixty five thousand
Dollars a year right out of college
And I am gonna get zero dollars
Because I will never ever get a job offer
I'm moving to Buffalo where the snow grows high
And the rent is cheap and I can forget I ever got my
Ass kicked in by New York City
I lost the game
Track Name: Raft of the Medusa (Jesus God Kill Me Dream)
CHORUS: Raft of the Medusa, this is a wreck, Jesus God I am a loser, kill me now

Praying for the sweet release of death
In six months’ time they’re gonna throw me from the deck

Cause I have bad skin
And a gnarly beard
If you pulled out the hairs on my chin
You’d find my nasty-ass folliculitis (that’s a fact, Jake)

CHORUS

I’m being hunted by a predator
By the memory of a god awful blowjob
By the mother fucking C train
Fuck the C train
No uptown service on the C train, no downtown service on the G train
No uptown service on the E train, where the fuck is the C train?

Somehow I have a boyfriend
Even though I’m emotionally unavailable
And he’s such a good guy (hi Bryce)
I guess he really doesn’t mind
I don’t wanna move out to Crown Heights
I don’t wanna be a gentrifier

Last Sunday I came to lunch wearing red nail polish
And my dad was trying his hardest
But I could tell he’s disappointed
That his son is half a man
Well, I guess that kinda made me sad
Who the fuck is my deadbeat dad?
Blah blah daddy issues
Well we’re here we’re queer and I’m a fag
Fuck you, dad!!!!!!

CHORUS

I met a muscle daddy once, a friend of a friend
Wicked muscles and wicked scruffy grin
Watched him do coke at the Soho House
Later on in the club he touched my ass
He put his fucking finger in my hole
Looked at me and said “You’re so beautiful”

I farted on his finger, yeah
But I don’t know if he could tell
The smell kinda vanished in the sweaty club air
He had a named chair at the fucking
School of the Art Institute of Chicago
And I am a fucking loser, yeah

Raft of the Medusa (hey)…