The Big Sleep

by Batter The Drag



Recorded/Mixed by Jamie Woolford @ Room Sound.

Music by Batter The Drag.
Lyrics by Ryan Richardson.

© 2005 Batter The Drag


released September 1, 2005

Ryan Richardson - Vocals/Guitars
Jeff Ruoss - Guitars/Vocals
Wes Volkman - Bass
Chad Martin - Drums


all rights reserved



Ryan Richardson New York, New York

I picked up the guitar as a kid and have been making a mess ever since.

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Track Name: Cartel Etiquette
This must be the reason I don't have nightmares anymore. Wake me when it's over. It's all overrated anyways. Surprised to see me awake enough to open my eyes and see that everyone is sleeping in separate beds, dead to the world, to themselves? Well, that's too bad. We really could've had something here. Wake me when it's overrated. I don't want to miss a thing. Surprised to see me awake enough to open my eyes and see that everyone is sleeping inside themselves where they are all just playing god's hand in dealing out the odds and ends? Beware that I'm alive and playing with your head but I must warn you I cheat to get ahead. What? Was I supposed to know the nature of this game? I always take all. I win no matter what. What? Was I supposed to know how all of this wound end? Of course I did because you're my bet.
Track Name: End Is The Answer
In the end our codependency on life will be nothing more than chemistry unless we put it to the test of time. We'll tell a truth be told. Hold on. Wait a second. What is that? That's my way to justify this line: End Is The Answer.

We rely on getting by by solving problems with temporary formulas. We assume the worst comes first to cast a stone instead of a call to cure the calluses. Well, I could save your life but why when I could just defy this lie?

You speak fire with your sulfur tongue
With every breath you burn someone
And I will sacrifice my lungs
To suffer for the forsaken
For the sake of sounding off
Often I'll sound offended in silence
Your gestures make jesters look like kings
Wearing a clown's crown of thorns

End is the answer.
Track Name: Dead On The Vine
Your foundation is all fucked up. You set yourself up for these cuts. You get to know me so well. So what? So when we kiss we bite our tongues? Because it's blood that you wanted?

We'll all be left behind.

An eye for an eye socket full of maggots of riding tricycles in frantic circles chanting church curses for miracles. An eye for an eye socket full of magnetic flies dropping like fake plastic gods.

We're all left behind.
Track Name: Striptease Necktie
My father, the hunter, found god in his guns.

He'll take my place when he is older. Looking back on what he's done he finds himself the only shoulder I can cry "wolf" on.

Becoming a compromise because of a promise not to compromise becoming a compromise. His coming to terms determines his demise. A demon for every disguise.

Four eyes foresee, for me, this foreword: Never be afraid of war.

It's out of his hands and into my head how I'm supposed to be a man. It's out of my hands. I'm out of my mind to find the time to be everything you knew I wouldn't.

My father, the hunter, found god in his guns and he's wanted for dead pride. He's hunted. He's nothing like me even though I'm like him.

I am not my father's innocent son.
Track Name: Ridin' The Fishtail
I'm getting old the older I get. Nothing is new to me anymore. Im bored with the borders ordering me to bury my brothers down to the bone.

Hey, "little buddy", nice talking sense into you.

It makes no sense to me or so I am told. I'm old. So old. They say that bad apples make good examples of how to fall too fast from trees in our past. Still glowing on the ground they rot and they grow mold.

Hey, "little buddy", talk sense into me. Take all this for granted and grant me this wish - don't plant my seed.

We are ghosts in a sense... innocent and unseen... making most of scenery... soon to change... and so should we.

We grow up. We know not what we do to deserve this. What we do to just exist hoping this is over soon so we can all go home, pack and prepare ourselves for waiting it out without a right.

We are veterans. We are amateurs. We're worlds apart.
We are not as smart as we think we are.

We're worlds apart.
Track Name: Figures In The Eights
I seldom operate under the assumption that I navigate knowing my destination is to die so I cooperate by communicating to my fate my fear. It's the only friend I have.

This crowd is condescending still their numbers rise to figures in the eights where they're disguised as a friend. A friend that I have yet to meet and greet them even though I've known them all my life.

This crowd is condescending still their numbers rise to figures in the eights where they're disguised as mice and men who let us in on secrets they've been keeping in inside jokes to laugh about when they get out. Come on in. It's nice in here. We're all having a good time dying to know what you've been up to.

I am too hard to see with those eyes blinking so fast they're surprised that they get hypnotized staring back at us all looking out for ourselves in the interest of someone who's disinterested.
Track Name: Backmask Facelift
I live underwater and I only swim where I'm wanted.
I live underwater and I only swim when I'm wanted.

Breathing through open wounds from a fight I fought with a close-minded right hook in hopes of sinking to the bottom of the bright side of seeing nothing in sight.

All these spiders explode in protest. Their webs remind us that we have not progressed successfully.

Few among the many believe that I'm among the many who before me have done their best to breathe through my wounds and choke on the bright side of seeing nothing in sight.

Your eyes will see me through all of this.
Track Name: Hey, Mudraker
Selling out for a second chance to change perspectives but I'm impatient.

Let's spill our guts together, tell ourselves everything, bringing us even closer to killing each other.

Yet, I'm impatient and on that we can agree.

Hey, Mudraker...

You set me on fire finally I'm burning up nicely silently.

I am losing my patience.
Track Name: Itinerary
This isn't what I wanted but how could I not take for granted this chance at a life, chance of a lifetime living in dreams?

A silent voice in an unspoken-for generation.

It's not what it seems. You seem surprised by what it means.

It's just business justified by the way I move through the motions making my rounds on day by daytime savings lost in the mountains way too high to touch with a finger flipped as if to say "I want outside".

Nothing else matters. Why would I stay put and put aside this part of me that stays inside?

It's not what it seems.