Spitting Facts, Splitting Fractions

by Captain Polaroid

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My first collection of songs recorded over a couple of years and pretty much the only ones I can remember how to play.


released January 1, 2005



all rights reserved


Captain Polaroid Birmingham

My fuzzy, shambolic lo-fi pop is thrown carelessly out of a bedroom window in Birmingham, UK.

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Track Name: When a Flawless Plan Turns Into a Masterpiece of Total Disaster
You're looking at a photograph, you don't know who it is, don't remember taking it and still don't know who did. But all you feel is jealousy - a rage towards someone that you don't know. Your brain produces images of what you'll look like once the magazines remind you of the things that you forgot, television reminds you of the people you have lost and radio reminds you of the songs that you forgot or didn't know. You're looking in the mirror, you don't know who it is. The tears down your cheeks cut your face into segments. Your vision's blurred, the idea's absurd but it might just do the trick. You hope so. So you're saving up the tokens in the fashion magazines to get discounted surgery for the unhappy. You dial the number (0800)-GET-A-NEW-BODY that they'll envy. You're drawing in black marker the things you'd like to change until your body's covered in those lines of discontent and you're looking like a blueprint for a house you'll never build. But you can't be happy still.
Track Name: Your Mistake is Thinking You Have Won
You've got a cancer in your heart. It's not contagious and yet it's serious. No, it's not fatal and it's not shameful, it's just painful to write it down. The colours of the new carousel are pink and green. If there's a tugging on your muscle then you're just breathing too loud. You're planning your death like tomorrow won't come. Your mistake is thinking you have won but you can't see. If the ending's been spoilt by repetition of events don't worry, now you know what to expect. You're crying 'cause it's all the same but you don't like the people in your life to change - but they always do.
Track Name: Excuse After Excuse
Your redundant comments are the backbone of a stable society that keeps us separated and feeds us with excuse after excuse. We're not educated, we just fulfil the requirements of a brainwashed youth. Everyone's a sinner so repent to convince yourself 'He' has a use. A hardback guide to live by, pages filled with lies and prejudice... but fear keeps you believing (well something's got to 'cause there's no substance in this far-fetched science fiction) the unbelievable stories they produce and the crimes that they excuse. Something's got to be done. We've all been bad so someone start a flood and wipe us out on the television - its pay-per-view, subscription fees apply. We watch with sick obsession until the seas engulf our very selves and die happy knowing they sold destruction to the very end. This kind of lie invalidates the truth.
Track Name: Yes
I was thinking about the end when suddenly it made more sense and I'm not as confused as I believed. So I sat down and thought about all the things I adored and those I ignored in the street. I hide from myself, I hide from you, I hide myself away and I lie to myself, I lie to you everyday I say 'yes'. So let's all curse the establishment 'cause they're so fun to blame for all our fucking mistakes. I don't want to sit up in bed today in case you see the state I'm in so I fix myself like a broken watch and analyse my face - the time is wrong, the battery's gone - I think its had its day. Now you can't sleep tonight, you're thinking about the end of the day.
Track Name: Call This a Democracy?
In this awkward silence that you voted in no one remembers agreeing to this. This trial is biased, this trial is void and the weak are punished for everything. When you said you're higher they thought that you meant better but what you meant was frightened. Bring back the obsolete and abolish thought. Deceit will always be your number one. Brainwashed by media to believe the hype... what cannot be arranged can be destroyed.
Track Name: No Words Left to Explain Yourself With
You'll never carve your thoughts into my mind - pathetic narrow-minded parasites. Crave refuge, cultivate our lives any way you want so spread the word, he's as real as equality. No speech, no freedom, just holocaust with love. Your spirit brings prejudice so keep your ideals - immoral atrocities. Go forth and educate to control their lives, to destroy their lives. Tell me what time I owe you, a pleasure I'm sure. Why does no one help you to explain yourself? On your knees and pray child, show some respect to 'Him'. Here's your book, read it and learn it off by heart and let the words that you read control your hypnotised eyes. Take some fucking time and explain yourself. Thou shalt not show reason, thou shalt not be merciful, "I will not leave you desolate". Explain yourself.
Track Name: On the Wall Hangs a Broken Clock
Conversations are too difficult for me. Sporadic sentences are all that I can master in my waking hours - but in sleep I'm you. People document their lives with faces on the wall, where friends are just mementoes of times otherwise forgotten and aI crawl through days thinking thoughts like you. Days so long time appears to be still like the broken clock upon my wall... and my wall is lined with people I would rather be instead of me. Instead of this monstrosity. The monotony is killing me, these friends I have are imaginary. My death would cause hilarity but hilarity is the antithesis of everything I am in life you know.
Track Name: Seven Days to a New You
I want to lose this excess flesh that makes me feel so sexless and ugly. I'm so obese no-one can look at me. 'Elle' - you are my God, 'Marie-Clare', 'Cosmo', thank you 'Seventeen' for teaching wrong from right. the less I weigh the more I starve myself. Exercise to love my thighs. This diet is killing me but everyone's telling me "look like this and you'll be happy". I want to be happy. I want to be so beautiful. Just food is obscene - a cause to vomit, a waistline sacrifice. Half the girls my age disgust me with their tragic obsessions. Crisps, chocolate and sweets are not the food that eight year olds should eat to be sexy and think. Repulsion begins when I see myself.
Track Name: I Erased Myself to Make You Better, Shall We All Erase Ourselves?
You opened your mouth to speak and said it yourself, "I'm not what I used to be - look at my hands, they shake as I stand up but I'll never stop working for them." I'm saving to save myself by putting all my earnings in your hands in that hope that one day the government will pay for all of the loyalty I gave. Listen, listen, listen to me! We can't escape what you can erase, but you can't erase what isn't there.