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You, Voyeur

by Psychic Sex

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1.
A flip of whipped cream blasted fast past bratty ass snatched psychic sex Exes left sans breakfast and their exit left him feeling vexed Fruitless, reckless, twenty-something, gay pride reeling back in excess Foaming at the mouth for uptown flexes that he left in Texas You can be my rentboy and I know you’ll make that money back!
2.
The Rocks 02:35
(One time) We passed in line (Two times) We shared a sigh (Three times) We talked of rain (Four times) We fucked again (One time) We laughed it off (Two times) We kept it soft (Three times) You screamed so loud I swear they could hear it in the back of the hotel I got the rocks, so let’s dig in I got the whiskey again I got my rocks, I got my in (One time) We got a drink (Two times) We shared a wink (Three times) We sat around (Four times) I had to lie down (One time) We laughed it off (Two times) We kept it soft (Three times) We lied and said I want it again, I wanna fuck until I drop dead I got the rocks, so let’s dig in I got the whiskey again I got my rocks, I got my in Oh no! Please no more! It’s too much for a boy to ask for! (Take it! Take it!) One last time! If we do it again, I might just die! (So what?!) You’re very persuasive But I’m afraid, that a few more drinks Might be all I need to fade away
3.
When I first beheld her stunning, psychotic visage Wrapped in gold pleather henley and a scarf that looked vintage She was sitting at the minibar, smoking a cigarette Accessorized with jewelry and a Carltonware tea set “You look kind of familiar… Have I met you before?” She said, “I knew who you were before you walked through that door. “I could sense your noxious aura from a mile away. “And I have a game for you if you’re interested in playing…” She grabbed hold of my tie and dragged me along Started stripping off clothing as she sang me a song About dying and fucking and painting and fishing And flowers and bullets and wartime and kissing We made love for an hour, then she rolled me a joint And the night simmered down to a beautiful point Where I fell deep in love with this beauty so talentless A manic progressive by the name of Miss Christine! Miss Christine! Miss Christine! Miss Christine! Oh, Miss Christine! Miss Christine! Miss Christine! Miss Christine! Down one, down two, down three more “Who’s your interview with, boy, me or the floor?” She took off my glasses and placed a kiss on my cheek Sat me at the bar because my legs were so weak “Ask me your questions, I haven’t got all day” I fumbled for my notes in blind disarray She sighed and poured a tonic with a dash of liqueur And I surveyed the face of my crude saboteur Her makeup was running; there were knots in her hair She had a wild charisma and a hallowing glare As she looked in my eyes, I felt my secrets escape me The emotions welled up, but the floodgate was breaking We dove into nothing and the moment collapsed And we fell for eternity, but oh so relaxed With my muse and my drugs and my notebook at last I’d found love, but my mind had completely been trashed Oh, Miss Christine! I woke up in the bathroom with a lump on my skull Found my way to the toilet, but the toilet was full Of every kind of liquid you wouldn’t want in your body So, I limped to the foyer, still woefully groggy In a two-piece of leather, feather hat, and white boots She stood terribly tall, looking for light abuse But, she handed me drumsticks and a rather tight thong Sat me down and instructed that I follow along And I never stopped playing, for a minute at most And we toured the country, from east coast to west coast Our psychedelic riffage ripped apart every stage And we made love each night in a lunatic rage Until my baby, she left me one horrible night While awaiting her entrance, second curtain stage right And until I’m in hell, I won’t play anymore Because there’s just this one woman that’s worth waiting for: Miss Christine! Miss Christine! Miss Christine! Miss Christine! Oh, Miss Christine! Miss Christine! Miss Christine! Miss Christine!
4.
Douceur 01:55
Every time we lie I feel a little warm inside Every time we kiss I feel excited (Like this, like this) Everything is strange again My words float slowly past your head Everything is sane again I don’t like it! I don’t like it! (Why don’t I show you this?) I don’t like it! (Why don’t I show you this?) I won’t try it! (Why don’t I show you this?) I don’t like it! I won’t try it! I can’t fight it! Why don’t I show you this? Every time we lie I feel a little warm inside Every time we kiss I feel excited (Like this, like this) Everything is strange again My words float slowly past your head Everything is sane again I don’t like it! I don’t like it! (Why don’t I show you this?) I don’t like it! (Why don’t I show you this?) I won’t try it! (Why don’t I show you this?) I can’t fight it! Why don’t I show you this?
5.
Pure 03:14
(Oh,) my life is so alone And there’s nothing left And the nights are so cold Take a shaking breath What I wouldn’t give For a heavy heart For another year In a plastic jar On the seventeenth Think I’ll kill myself It’s for sure this time For my better health On the twenty-fourth Think I’ll rise again And come suck your face With a ballpoint pen My life is so pure My life is so My life is so pure Your life is shit Come get me!

about

This is a record about debauchery and confusion, sexuality and narcissism, dead groupies and rent boys, music and noise.

credits

released March 10, 2015

Psychic Sex is:
Kaelin Bougneit (vocals, bass, drums)

Written, recorded, and mastered by Kaelin Bougneit for Subviolet Records.

Cat. No. SBV-001

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Psychic Sex Portland, Oregon

Worrisome punk music.

Psychic Sex is Kaelin Bougneit

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