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You, Voyeur

by Psychic Sex

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

Cat. No. SBV-001

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about

Psychic Sex Portland, Oregon

Worrisome punk music.

Psychic Sex is Kaelin Bougneit

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Track Name: Hardcore Boyfriend
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!
Track Name: The Rocks
(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
Track Name: Miss Christine
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!
Track Name: Douceur
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?
Track Name: Pure
(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!