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the Be​-​Sides (one take wonders and poems)

by Bitch

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1.
Rise 06:17
near death near miss you got arrested I almost drowned he got himself out of the smallest hole all the way down there on the ground Baghdad lit up a green gold beat up by bullies with bombs generations old George Bush is as evil as Sadaam it takes one to know one and the screen screams on and on about Iraqi liberation all these puppets pronouncing protesters only a thousand in Times Square thousand what cops programmed by you Big Brother or Big Dad were Jeb and Bloomberg in there too try to not let people walk down Broadway the road our ancestors laid in the first place trains mysteriously slow making it impossible nearly impossible to go gather with each other no they'd rather kill mothers who give birth to brown babies stage some international foil while all our blood becomes their oil don't dare me to rise cuz I'll rise I'm facing down now aircraft can't call to ground now I feel halfway from my death and it's my surest breath yet cuz I'm not the only one dead tonight your bombs they light up the night you're just on that screen all smug your hands held tight like a taking hug like you're just waiting for daddy's handout the one he made off raping nations of people if I met you I'd smack you across your face I'd say wake up we didn't want you here in the first place don't dare me to rise cuz I'll rise I'm halfway down now wrapping some white light around now the plane screams through the sky like innocents before they die it's not war it's genocide just victims of your little boy games in this breath I write to say cuz revolution rolls through us it takes follow through and talk it takes agreeing to walk what we walk live to preach listen glean glisten pave poems from disaster make all to all a vaster possibility for our relations it's hand to hand Juliet said and I want to add mouth to mouth and do to do cuz we could all plant gardens and season our truth live like take back this land each have some soil on hand to make things grow dare us to rise cuz we'll rise Copyright 2004 Capital B Music (BMI)
2.
Get Together 01:27
Every day, it's conversation same Talk of cash, like crack into veins America's on suicide watch and Bush is it's ledge This lane is faster this sun and sky vaster than any push any edge These clouds hang over an economy built on rage when are we when are we not gonna be slaves This coffee smells like candy these pills can really come in handy just keep us speeding along these roads that are paved over songs The guardrails make a rhythm if you blur your eyes to it This thistle sticks around even though our gas all over it Look at that incredible blue lift your eyes higher than the billboards do Remember the glow like it's in your bones Remember the fight like those puffs of white That conflict cumulus can have its purpose but don't forget to taper off when you can Stand up straight Don't imitate and don't feed the man Let's unhook from war let's keep each other instead of score Let's get together under all this weather whether they like it or not Copyright 2004 Capital B Music (BMI)
3.
Cat's Kills 03:38
one thing I love about you is you're not all strip malls trees stand still on the other side of you and some of us can get there to breathe them when all old hope is gone I love that you're holding me now in this time of my needlepoint healing I'm sewing up the know I know and the flow I flow hemming out the blow by blow of you--oh oh those Cat's Kills those fierce hills those Cat's Kills those fierce hills Home I wanna know you home I wanna know you these bones hold under you are tired now from your concrete where my whole life is minus what we are my whole life some unknown star those Cat's Kills those fierce hills those Cat's Kills those fierce hills my whole life is minus what we are my whole life some unknown star Copyright 2004 Capital B Music (BMI)
4.
My Clit 01:25
My Clit is a Bitch the whole Church and State sticks to it why do I have to wait to get off Copyright 2004 Capital B Music (BMI)
5.
Red Roof In 04:21
Every time i focus my view Every time my camera zooms I get this commercial by you Ubiquitous you Everywhere wears the badge of ads of you You oh country sold out to capital Shit, you dress my friends in it The lens i view it with The invisible space in the air The soundwaves cast Your insipid glare I’m under your red roof inn Your murder marketing system Calling it Christian Christ was a freak like me You think he’d be down With all the forests being paved with his name Or some war being waged with his fame Or he wasn’t getting it on with Mary or Jane Just cuz they killed him don’t kill me Don’t go kill a bunch of people back in Iraq Then put that fish up next to your “W in ‘04” flag Follow this asshole dictator Daddy’s little imitator Give him your money your love and your veins If christ died for my sins He died in revolution The one we’re trying to make So stop trying to take My view My true My ocean blue Anyway i was trying to say That somehow you just can’t stop our joy You just can’t stop our basic need for people-ness It springs up in the craziest cracks And we are finding our roots now We have to fight just to keep our space We are finding our roots now We will fight to keep our space In the race and the pace Of the land over take In the race and the pace Of the land over take Copyright 2004 Capital B Music (BMI)
6.
Copying Me 01:48
Are you copying me? Should I be covering something up? Is this all gonna go up or is gonna come down? Am I just sitting in Union Square becoming a statue for the rats? Is that little one stuck or is he finding what he wants? Am I just killing my throat sucking down cigarettes like they're medicine spitting out songs like glass it hurts to feel in the well of Giuliani's helicopters spraying for mosquitos Is that what I'm sitting here sucking down the exhaust fumes of politics? Is my body really a mess holding on to what has happened there? Is she standing up or tired? Is she here or totally wired? Are you joking with the inside of me typing me letters from across the sea are you a whore whore's wanna be masculine side of soul? She's gone now she's in the institution Will what comes trickling out resemble a stream? Will she flow with nuclear waste of pharmaceutical haste will what ever-after she tastes be filling? I'm filling up with dreams I'm just bursting at the seams wanting to offer myself up to what the Goddesses are baking Will you whisper to me from the other life? Will you try and map out some sense to this strife? Will you meet me in the park to heavy down the dark? Will you ride on my dashboard in your turquoise bones? Will you meow to me in your sleep? Make the promises, we'll keep? My legs are going numb now from all this writing Copyright 2004 Capital B Music (BMI) credits
7.
Hope We Do 02:18
Early plane and no one's talking Had to talk myself onto the plane with all my baggage, as always "My bass is not going under--the neck, the soft case" The lady tells me it goes under or I don't fly and I have one minute to decide "Ok" i say and before I can even start to think she says "Ok I'm making the decision for you" "I thought I had a whole one minute" And our good-bye was just as fast only one day in bed with you then again I hit the gas this time into air then road with my always-heavy load your body still all over me The guy that took my bags told you a 2 dollar tip was a rip and after you left, I told him How dare him, I am here to empower women and he should be tipping ME That hat I got you on your head with the tag still coming out of it waving me off before getting shoved off by the dude in his badge and blinking light Yesterday still waits for me like an inspired melody to sing again And what about my bass? They wore the boss' face They said they could get fined, fired against the rules, we-could-show-you-the-manual it's up to you, either comply or don't fly with all these faces seated watching me laptops heavy up top plenty of room for the corporations in the overhead baggage bins ruling out the revolution that waits in this case all padded from my friend and how it all did end was: the captain came out from the cockpit told me he'd take it-- always the dude behind the door has the power to be human cuz the lower workers--the women and the fags, they have to protect their little piece of pie like they're being watched by the invisible eye that did not build this world with them in mind I thank everyone, make my way to my plastic seat turn on the fan for some chemicals to breathe I love my work I love you I love this world I'm in sometimes too Need to change it though Need to hold on to songs like they're the hope we do and I hope we do Copyright 2004 Capital B Music (BMI)
8.
You just had that whole system against you didn’t you From your daddy to the johns To the judges to the jury To your jailors To your jesus-drunk lawyer They all raped you didn’t they In their own systematic way Did it all go down in that imperialist hollywood kind of way the deals went down in high high office about your little hooker life you were used by them a little used hole with such a fiery fierce soul i saw it giving the finger to all the fingers that had held you down of course they killed you the witch hunt never stops Copyright 2004 Capital B Music (BMI)
9.
Nana 00:19
I tried to carve always into that brick wall after you waved me good-bye told me not to cry from your house on Alfall road Copyright 2004 Capital B Music (BMI)
10.
i wanted to whisper something to you i wanted to do all of this for you i wanna do this for you Copyright 2004 Capital B Music (BMI)
11.
Pennsylvania 02:42
I was so close to almost home and my van springs a leak by before this poem The gages were having a freak out attack and suddenly her purr was a smoker's hack and it's fast, this life this track and it's so slow when there's somewhere you're trying to go Getting there on mechanics and faith one thing breaks and boom--you're done checking yourself in to the Howard Johnson Opting for the fish sandwich, and 'hodgepodge' veggies writing over paper paisley place-mats And the TV blaring around the corner in the smoky side of the bar and me, apparently the only non-smoker in the almost-closed side of Ho-Jos "When you get caught between the moon and New York City" that's coming out of the ceiling and that IS crazy and that IS true and trust me I'm not falling in love, I'm already there and I was trying to GET there My bed was only 6 more hours away and now, a whole more day away from my studio, from my love, from my Brooklyn, 4 floors above Just keep going, I tell my pen and she does, even when everything else stops, she goes Only the Queen, I guess, really knows Why I'm here, facing this fear of girl alone on the side of the road The salad bar is closed and all my clothes smell like the road which this time went on for 4 weeks I was weak when I started that girlhood That's where we get chased and we learn how to make this face to let them know we know our place And I'm so not that. I'm a witch with no hat. I'm a bodacious brat and I'm crying fat tears under this Pennsylvania sky the sunset looks so beautiful through them My friend Lynee on the other end of my sell-out phone California oozes out of her voice and wraps its arms around me And I'm just trying to find some veggies Trying to peel them out from their deep-fried freeze I hope this letting go really frees us really sees us for who we are See my car is broken down, but I'm not My engine is perfectly hot And so far there's not a drip I couldn't stop Not a dick I couldn't top So just remember that you, me, you This could maybe stop you every now and then But overall slow you? No--you know deep down what is true: that poems keep going, and so can songs You just have to let them be You just have to let them belong And no matter what Music always moves and Machines Only sometimes do Copyright 2004 Capital B Music (BMI)

about

BUY A PHYSICAL COPY HERE bitchmusic.com/store/bitch-be-sides/

A lo-fi recording of the artist mostly at home with one live track of her prolific “Rise.”

credits

released May 5, 2005

Produced and Mixed by Bitch and Wayne Schrengohst

Guest performances by Liz Kelly (beatbox) and Greg Latty (drums)

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about

Bitch Los Angeles, California

The longstanding queer music icon Bitch makes witchy poet pop. She does it with violins and synthesizers, and the songs she writes are spectral, heartbreaking, political, and beautiful. "Bitchcraft" is like Joni Mitchell set to a click track, it’s queer Cyndi Lauper. It’s neon pink, in your face, ready to hex you with its brilliance. ... more

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