Don Bolles was a newspaper reporter who was killed in Phoenix, Arizona in 1976 while investigating a land deal that was closely tied to the Mafia. He was blown up in front of the Hotel Clarendon, and I had a scary experience at the same hotel…

Lyrics: Skip ahead to her in pants, watch her dance in the living room in front of all the other dinner guests. She thumbs her nose at simulacra, but someone must play Cleopatra in the PTA's yearly drama fest. Her husband broke his body…

A true story about a transcendent summer job I had with Scott Shoffner.

I spend a night there once, I was dizzy with Hadrian's Blues.

I wrote this song after seeing the man who almost killed me and not acting out all of my revenge fantasies. He was selling TVs at Costco.

This is just a solo jam with a delay pedal.

Sort of depressing this one, it's written about my best friends (former) girlfriend who sadly took her own life in 1999.