Hush

by Happy in Hemet

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about

All Songs written by Bean Stalk and Happy in Hemet.
All Lyrics Written by Bean Stalk except "Soy" written by Vivian (Choncha).

Recorded at Casa de culo.

Produced by Justin Ogul.

Cover model: Vanessa Espino (miss kak)

credits

released 29 August 2015

Bean (Pappy) : Bass/Vocals.
Vivian (Choncha) : Guitar.
Java (Guava) : Drums.

Special Thanks To Vanessa Espino for that beautiful mug.
Justin Ogul for taking a chance on some unknown kids. and, uh, last but not least, the wonderful crew at McDonalds for spending hours making those egg McMuffins, without which we may never be HAPPY...

( Hit up Justin for all your recording needs at mongonotfun91@msn.com )

R.I.P. Allison.

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all rights reserved

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about

Happy in Hemet Hemet, California

3 Piece from Heaven...

(formerly "Beanvian Stalks Guava")

Guava: Drums
Vivian: Guitar
Bean: Bass/Vocals

Instagram: @Happyinhemet

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Track Name: Happy
What plan can or would be thought?
What more to shit me happy?
Saying listen to your mother? But i only dance to fuck.
I wish i was a father, not this punk.

Times i wish my first god and grains were not part of life.
Why? So i could just end it so fucking nice.
Watching in thirds as god's son is dripping old.
The perfect place to kill myself just to make it home.
Seconds before nothing known this greater peace.
First unleashed, Bean's deceased.

HAPPY

Blank faced wall. pray for x-ray vision,
to see any sense of feeling past this closure.
or a blade to slice my fucking walls to smell the other side of hell.

HAPPY.
Track Name: Quits
A tap, a sigh, a groan, a turn.
No understanding 'cause....
Any spoken word of love
kills comfort of the buzz.

Calling it quits?
No, Never...... Yes.

Selfishness game over. Tell an angel she can fly without the couch's favorite wingman, how she knows now, how she wants. Take these wishes with respect. No pressing merely in protest. Can't talk of hate in steps she takes as we watch her walk in 8's.......

Much of this, to this. Splattered before the big piss.
Before we're lifted one fucking inch.
Slanted towards the drugs before the drugs were the drugs. Now the drugs serve no purpose but the wrong one.

Love of choice splashes tongue.
Forcing old the younger ones.
Give and take, code for a mate.
Nothing is fucked but everything!

Calling it quits?
No, Never...... Yes.
Track Name: Playtime Injuries
The beauty, the mother, the been there cunt.
Brings about smiles on the hunt for such a slut.
an angel, a girl scout, bothers rabbit in a bin.
A sinner, a sin. blanket tucked by kin.
Spirit's far from kindred, Pappy smiles hung above.
Forcing ones below on this belief that what was made was love.
Unfinished eyes of love
pissing down on what's above.
Yes, always right..... No matter what.

The way she looks at the dog.
such as eyed her progeny.
some bats and winks to her brother.
after she eats out her mother.

Inside,
we find
this gooey girl.
A False gods lies to sheathe this fucking girl.
Inside!
partially he...
and therefore,
Happy.

I'll ride along, i'll be her dog. I'll be her son. of some kinds there's one.

engendered.
endangered.

A mother fucker..... A brother fucker.... An angel nicknamed stupid cunt...

I'll ride along, i'll be her dog. I'll be her son. of some kinds there's one.

Truths of yesterday but that day is gone.
desires six feet under 'cause she sang my fucking song.

a web puts down a goddess
adverse glares sweep the closet.
Blood pools just past the wrist
into a loosely shaken fist
a kinderwhore
finds bliss
as an angel calls it quits.
Track Name: Hoped
Plowed to the ground.
Hope was lost.
Preach what's now found,
'cause that bitch got fucked.

That bitch got fucked!!
And now hope is pregnant.

An "o'pian" on the floor.
Faith craves nothing more
than some dicking.
(listen pans) Be careful what you're wishing,
Why!?! 'cause that bitch got fucked!

That bitch got fucked!!!
And now hope is pregnant.

HOPED!...
That bitch got fucked.
Track Name: Soy
I wasn't just the girl with the colored hair.
I wasn't just the girl that was always quiet and kept to herself.
I wasn't just the girl everyone fucked.
I wasn't just the one who laughed it all off.
I am the girl who believes in passion and true love.
I wasn't just that cunt who wanted to fuck your man.
I wasn't just that chick you thought was cute, but a little insane.

I'm the girl who could love anyone that would let her.
I'm the girl who never takes the stand.
I'm that bitch and i need love... and meth.
Meth.... meth.... meth.... meth.

I'm that girl you wanted to be.
The girl that fucked with your head.
I'm not that bitch that wouldn't let you go.
I AM that bitch that made you stay, just to confuse once more.
I'm just a girl who needs some love... and meth.
Meth.... meth.... meth.... meth.

I am who i am but all you mother fuckers don't give a damn.
I'm that bitch and yes i'm that girl.
Track Name: The Couch's Favorite Wingman
Living life on grains, first god is still alive. Once milked last drop of this, teach points to fuck and strive. A depot as a step stool once, burning, frying to an end. Matters not 'cause all my friend's they are dead.

All my friends are dead.

Whiffs of momma's hay to squeal HAPPY.
Let's go get 'em kid!!
Indolence will possess.
"Scum" are now "Skids".

Shined bulbs engender smiles.
drying eyes cause "for a while".
Sit tight stalking's what's ahead 'cause all my friends are dead.

Born and raised far less the same.
Bound to triumph every sweepstake.
With season's ended, life inane. Delusions of god such a fucking shame!
Rehearse in heels the prance to fame.

Revival. A plegde.
Later. I swear.
Track Name: Orange Blooded Embankments
Love the stink of my pussy.
Dream to make a man a sissy,
but hate a man that's prissy.
I hate a man that's prissy.
Kill a man that's prissy. Gut a man that's prissy.

These contradicting cunts get a big kiss from a boy that is prissy
and wishing to be she.

(Barking)

Bark and bark again.
Holding it against you.
You, i don't know. You can't be me.
I love to fucking hate you.

Got a cum pistol, an instant enemy.
Associated with Liquid, Here no more to be.
Space is ran by pussy, pride to own a rag.
Unto this rag from the snatch this blood is running orange.