Pluto Zealot [Lyrics]

From ‘Wyvern Fun’:
[about Sydney Harry:
Born Feb. 7, 1999 at 11:40PM in Manitou Springs, CO
Sun in Aquarius (House IV)
Moon in Scorpio (House I)
Mercury in Aquarius (House IV)
Venus in Pisces (House V)
Mars in Scorpio (House I)
Jupiter in Pisces (House V)
Saturn in Aries (House VI)
Uranus in Aquarius (House IV)
Neptune in Aquarius (House III)
Pluto in Sagittarius (House II)
Chiron in Sagittarius (House II)
Scorpio Rising

After graduating high school with honors in Colorado Springs, Sydney could hardly contain her excitement about finally leaving her conservative, sheltered hometown and discovering her passions and identity at the University of X (formerly the Queens College of User Experience). It was within her first week of her fall semester that she met Maggie Damiani, who became Sydney’s first girlfriend.

Although she was genuinely enthused with her art and writing classes at the university, not to mention the first meaningful romantic relationship she had ever had, Sydney’s greatest attraction to her new life was in the nighttime outings on the university’s nearby late-night party district, especially the chaotic Phlegethon Drive. On these streets Sydney eventually encounters the anarchic punk rocker “Metal Marley” Werner, who befriends Sydney and introduces a chaotic, competitive element to Sydney and Maggie’s already wearing relationship.
Sydney’s original poetic rendering of the kinds of experiences she had in those first months follows.]

Visit here to read further in the booklet.



“UX”
veering summer playlists echo july 76
favorite indie declarations with grand motifs penciled in
mama’s pluto zealot’s patience wears thin, chafes in the backseat
ma and pa play quarantine at every stop for gasoline

UX flags in the shotgun window, GPS tracking and venmo
the Libertines guiding, she screams liberty out the window:
“I’m Sydney Harry and I’m gonna hex UX
and I’m gonna vex you next”
x’d out hands first night on phlegethon dr
patrón añejo underneath table five
at the after-hours patisserie
the reused bottles of pure leaf
the tableside make-out parties

“phlegethon dr”
sans serif gliding, efflorescence
phantasmagoria crescendos and
neon lassos everything faster than I can see
nic’tine anterooms
divey xanadus
hip hop tie-dye plastered interviews
libertine kung fu moves faster than I can see

phlegethon drive
phlegethon drive
phlegethon drive all the way

debauchers, godspeed, solar flares, the fjord
plutonian zion
blurred azimuths, burning horizons
this friday pub-crawl is dissolved crayons
archipelagoes and sirens
bipolar bearings, memories acned
monday pub-crawls, amish hackneys
beggars, choosers, genteel fasting
x crashing around me maggie (take me home)

phlegethon drive
phlegethon drive
phlegethon drive all the way

well they promised sophomore’s elysium
the street parallel collegium
it looks like everyone is doing it
throw it away or you’ll lose yr shit
well it’s too early to chase dragons
fooled by the mirage in the margins
but it looks like everyone is doing it
too early to be ruing it

“cold brew (di la la)”
maggie’s late to our coffee date
she took five to fix and sedate (di la la la la la)
hungover sonar, she finds the clerk
triple espresso to make it work

what happened to getting stoned on you
baby maybe getting stoned on me
what happened to getting stoned on you

we keep hunter s. thompsoning
investigative spinning our needs
cold brew in a grease spoon “caff”
dark roasts, curdled half-and-half

what happened to getting stoned on you
baby maybe getting stoned on me
what happened to getting stoned on you
we did a lotta dilaudid

“melinoë”
yeah the stars make for the shore
the northern lights, southern oar
the diet smoke, a midnight walk
the silhouettes all etched like chalk
idle in the hookah mezzanine
condescending next to me
a nymphet stranger, filmy sheen
eyes me something astrally
melinoë doesn’t kiss me coy
bites my lip and really enjoys
let myself be your new toy
give me rhythm in white noise
moonbeams illuminating instincts
piscean hieroglyphs mouthed in sync
venusian on her grinning
going, going in the yin-yang
she’s really an impish barbie
named marley marley marley

“metal marley”
this is a petty heist but its a sincerely good cause
she’s a fever dream, real trip experiencing blood loss
kicks and ketamine trysts, she’s a pluto zealot
talking real shit often and oxford pellets
(she’s shrapnel in velvet)

she’s unalloyed metal fun
she’s been smoking powdered gun
western winding, charred-tipped thumbs
a constant climax on the run
dominatrix naked steel
she’s all bets off, neo kim deal
she’s a fit of rage of laughter
shit-eating-grinning bastard

yr so metal marley
yr so metal marley

she thinks yr punk is soft-core, bought-for and adorable
limp pop-rock, sonic brooding, gullible
she says “rebellion dulls sometimes but not mine”
a sublime bullseye everyone maligns
part riot grrrl part black metal fulltime

“I’ll drop you so accidentally it’s not funny”
she says as she carves our initials into cars
encircled stars tattooed and taboos in her eyes
other pure adulterants, desultory, don’t realize

yr the metal marley
yr so metal marley

“christmas trees”
why you sorta diaspora
when I’m not into the arcade
something about fucking the buff
is yr favorite midnight rage
why you pyretic for wyvern fun
say something sonic and arcane
something about fucking me up
a wicked imprint in my brain

asthmatic but technicolor
painted nostrums as Minerva
hurling guts and psychic rocks
neon nerves and spastic shocks
so corporeal you deliquesce
from existential soupiness

marley yr my hooligan again
I wouldn’t spazz out for no one else
I wouldn’t spazz out for no one else

why you pyretic for wyvern fun
say something sonic and arcane
something about fucking me up
a wicked imprint in my brain
why you sick for adrenaline
a lit cigarette in my vein
I’m boxing for paroxysms
chasms and anesthesia

indigenous to igneous bliss
bewitched by alien alphabets
spitting rapture’s freakish steez
burning up on christmas trees
no toy at getting wholly destroyed
our void medicinally enjoyed

marley yr my hooligan again
I wouldn’t spazz out for no one else
I wouldn’t spazz out for no one else

“ashed in coffee tins, these blunts shine…
— tastes… it’s angel’s lips, jesus christ.
A gunned down sedan, polymorphine drive
the speed of light in a fifty-five.
Twelve fifty-one am up in arms
arcade fire, endgame, squadron cars
and she’s just joyriding this hogtied scene
made out obscene gestures at police…”

“zeitgeist”
all around the college town
no one puts deposits down
the zeitgeist is sassafras
melancholy with pizzazz
I’m mentioned as a postscript
aside and an achievement

maggie (these words) could mean anything but me
maggie (these words) could mean anything

all around the college town
no one puts deposits down
man talks out his ass again (can’t you kick rocks, friend?)
defecates suave adjectives (how sweet the sound, sound)
word is out now or some shit
“can’t you take a complement”

maggie (these words) could mean anything but me
the thumbtacks, newspapers & string in yr mind
you’ll still spill the ink everywhere every time
happiness is fleeting (eating away)
maggie (these words) could mean anything
maggie (these words) I said I’m sorry

all around the college town
no one puts deposits down
no fucks given strokes of luck
real talk ain’t heard just shrugged
prestige, image is currency
yr reputable then a refugee

“&”
pledges of allegiance spat
primordial soup, skeletal vat
the closeted cosmic laugh track
the string quartet, muted brass

the gas is leaking out of here
time is leaking out of here
time is leaking out of here

marley’s leering at the studio
it’s too severe in yr crucible
I tried to be yr causal loop
I tried it casually too

duly speaking with a sneer
time is leaking out of here
time is leaking out of here

ah not afraid of gallows humor
not afraid, shadows, tumors
guilty pleasures, spastic futures
jesus jokes, omens, users

still you, yr sneaking out of here
time is leaking out of here
time is leaking out of here

“syzygy (imbecyllables)”
scientific methods to you, recycled shots in dark
unknown levers, whatever’s syzygial to yr heart
this parabolic woolgathering can’t keep float above the sharks
we’ve debated euphonic inanity
we’ve masturbated our insanity
were functioning a time’s junkies
here & now in junkyards in ganymede

our rabid imbecyllables will never change
our C# C4 stock exchange
houston we have too many problems to roger that
we’re too together and out of range

quote me out of the contextual pace
unearth with an archaeological face
the fire’s near here but it’s anyways
this love is aspartame

our rabid imbecyllables will never change
our C# C4 stock exchange
houston we have too many problems to roger that
linguistics of rage

“the beat high road”
t-shirts in mom’s photographs
when you wrote novellas not epitaphs
in yr old journals, pastels, vignettes
brand new guitar and blank cassettes
the silhouettes on walls that weren’t yellow yet
don’t set the scene, who knows what cadent suns mean

and no matter how hard you try you can’t lose your mind for good
and no matter how hard you try you can’t lose your mind for good
and no matter how hard you try you can’t lose your mind for good
and no matter how hard you try you can’t lose your mind completely

first days of shoegazing flare of ambivalence
when you still could make the boredom opalescent
alleged candid poses laissez-faire
even sleepwalking is too thoroughfare
the beat high road is still alive if you die old
ambitions too before flames were spooning you

and no matter how hard you try you can’t lose your mind for good
and no matter how hard you try you can’t lose your mind for good
(I’ll fall down the beat high road)
and no matter how hard you try you can’t lose your mind for good
(I’ll fall down the beat high road)
and no matter how hard you try you can’t lose your mind completely
(I’ll fall down the beat high road)

“pathetic chic”
nu vintage torn jeans from the 90s
unique visions just rewinding
worn chuck taylors to remember you by
get on down the lo-fi high road
against the grain but in the silo
thematic seattle but under blue sky

I’m tired of the pathetic chic
I’m tired of looking half asleep
call me noise
call me unwise
just one of the things going by
something superficial wounded deep

love notes soaked in bleached guitar
the backhand comes in a few bars
everything promissory is tongue-in-cheek
I’ve done the tango underground
I’ve scoffed at all the sacred vows
I’ve been yr khat I’ve been yr sertraline

I’m tired of the pathetic chic
radio weird but mostly “creep”
call me noise
call me unwise
maybe I caved to the sidelines
to really live or make a living

“the horizon will find me”
I saw yr mysticism’s lawyer
get realpolitik in the fire
I’ve seen what placebo means to me
concierge or fetishized
journey, destination, prize
this could be the breakthrough or the brink
kafkaesque and artist ique
my own medicine will make me sick
the first thirty days is hardest, baby

the horizon will find me
the horizon will find me
the horizon will find me

the horizon doesn’t preach “delay”
don’t put perspective in cel-shade
serrate regrets won’t always cut so deep
I’ve seen us on a finite curve
in hindsight as the skyline swerves
the eyes I have now pregnant and creased
I would cross this void, sit next to you
but if I do the exit’s ruined
but I know you won’t be whatsername to me


the horizon will find me
the horizon will find me
the horizon will find me
…me