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Candy Bars
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Closely miked me rapping to the instrumental of 'A Couple Grand' by Yung Joc. Lyrics by Reuben Walton.
alternative indie rock electronic classical folk hot dope acid surf down tempo euphoric independent emotional glitch down beat clubbing bangin bjork introspective surf rock dramatic freak eerie depressing ghettotech clubbin freaky chain
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Reuben Walton is an artist and songwriter originally from Cape Cod, MA and currently based in Falmouth, MA. His work spans multiple genres with a popcentric foc
Reuben Walton is an artist and songwriter originally from Cape Cod, MA and currently based in Woods Hole, MA. His work spans multiple genres with a pop-centric focus. A graduate of UMass Lowell and Sturgis Charter Public School, Walton's involvement in music has been a longterm passion with a steady shift towards original material beginning in high school. From his beginnings with choral ensembles, avant garde lo-fi dadaist compositions and earnest cover songs, to his free-flowing explorations of hip hop, atmospheric R&B and plaintive pop melodies, Walton brings a unique perspective that is both vulnerable and playful, his vocals and ear for melody and rhythm forming much of the common element unifying his body of work. His modest career highlights have included performances at UMass Lowell's annual Mothers of Rock concert and various venues in Southeastern Massachusetts and the Greater Boston area. Currently he is in the process of assembling a short EP with producer AVLI Music of Avli Music Productions in Woodland Hills, CA, in addition to working on a variety of side projects and collaborations.
Song Info
Genre
Podcasts Religious
Charts
#2,708 today Peak #26
#247 in subgenre Peak #2
Author
Vocals - Reuben Walton/Stephen/MarcelGuitar-Marcel
Rights
2007
Uploaded
September 09, 2007
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.0 MB 128 kbps 4:20
Story behind the song
I was really bored one evening at Berklee, because I had no classes that evening so I stayed in my room recording. When I started talking about a kite on the hill, I envisioned me standing on a hill at the Woods Hole Golf Course, watching some kind of psychedelic northern lights type visuals in the sky.
Lyrics
Wait that metronome right here off yes it is off/sounds horrible, too. sounds like a horrible loo/drinkin' caribou lou on the couch/playas don't know how to route/so anyway..I'm afraid to talk real loud because then in my room/and if you wanna come in here and make me not talk so quietly/make me talk so loud so roud so round like a pow in the row/make a cow milk/make a cow covered with silk covered with silk like a spider/and you can't even hide her/because she's so big like Rosie O'Donnell, ROFL, ROFL in Roswell waddle waddle wow wow--I'm just makin' up words at this point/cuz I'm so bored so whored so roared so lord at night lord of the kite lord of the white hands, alright?/so white, so bright, so nice, so white/wait I already said that, but I don't care/and if I already said that then I'll be right there/but I didn't already say that but I really did/so now I'm lyin' to you, what you gonna believe on Ebay, biddin' up for this shit/biddin' for like whips/beatin' for the clips/beatin' for the bips/beatin' for the fips yeah, you know how it go/wait, I think my roommate's comin' in the back door even though there's only one door to the room/and if there was only one door to the room, why the fuck did I say that there was a back door?/Why would I say that there was a muthafuckin' backdoor/to the room, when there's only one muthafuckin' door?/One muthafuckin' door at night with a big fat whore in the kite/flyin' a kite on the hill/flyin' like poppin' the pills/poppin' the pills lookin' at the stars/lookin' at the park eatin' candy bars/eatin' candy fars/eatin' zanzibar and Randy Far/Randy Jackson better sit the fuck down, I didn't know that nigga was in the band Journey Journey/wait, there's only one "Journey" in the name, not two/not two, if there were two of them, we'd have to repeat/every every word word that that we we say say and that wouild be bad/because it would take twice as long to say everything/and we would never be able to give feeling to whatever we saying at the time in the rhyme and for some reason, I'm thinkin' of Nick Cummings/Nick Cummings that's somethin'/like a hoe/hay/burnin' the fway/smokin' mad hay/ Me: Marcel, can I use your internet? Marcel: What? Me: Can I use your internet? Marcel: I don't have the internet cord. Me: Oh, where did you put it? Marcel: Someone else has it. Me: Oh, okay.
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