Casey Hallas Art

A.C.O.D.

Travelers in time get a check,
They go town to town following Flesh;
Funny thing is they’re not ever there.
Not like the man who goes to work,
He doesn’t have that many days off.

I know a guy, goes to the Met;
Goes to the park, fishing days off;
The new Avant-Garde,
It isn’t Avant-Garde at all

We live in a house like the rest;
Our place has four walls closing in.
We try to forget what we learned
Is it right or is it wrong
When we read that funny guy Karl?

Cellular life, creepier thoughts;
Look in the sky, it’s getting thin.
The new science kids,
I don’t think they really get off.

They say you can be whatever you want;
Sounds great to me, I want to make art.
The places for me are run by the state.
I only want to find a way out,
I gave it all up for somebody’s cause

ACOD volatile me;
had to grow up when I was three.
I want to be loved, I don’t believe
A drug can do that.

I met you blind,
I met you blind when I met you stoned;
Later on love, later on when we get alone;
Try to love me, I’ll ruin your life.

I Won’t Learn to Lie

Behind these homes
Behind these homes
Is a road
The road that we’re on
Taking us somewhere
Beyond

I’d like to learn
To be reborn
Without the pain
Choking all my
Smiles

Pastor semen
Movies making light
Of hell
The devil
Luxury

I, me, mine, me
I’m not good enough to be
Yet I won’t learn to lie

Whisper it here
Whisper, it is what you say
Say it to me,
Hey, if it’s what you’re
Thinking

No friend of mine
Would think to put me on the right
Yet I won’t learn to lie

Be a man
Sticks and stones will break
My hands
Yet I won’t learn to lie

I, me, mine, me
I’m not good enough to be
But I won’t learn to lie

Making the bread
Breaking the bread
Made of death
Eating the bread
Eating and freezing
The rest

Sit at home
Sit at mine and what me gone
I won’t learn to lie

Sit at home
Sit at mine and want you gone
I won’t learn to lie

I me, mine, me
I’m not good enough to be
I won’t learn to lie.

The Dying Schools

Making violence by your home
In sacred wealth to pass the day;
Foreign roads and well lit stores
While eat the poor in target hall.
Drive fast today, the gangs behind;
They close the deal with powered death.
You want their land to fill your walls,
No rest for free while in the land.

Love among the dying schools;
Love among the dying schools;
Love among the dying schools.

Suing death you will not win;
Poison make and laugh behold,
The poor, the fool, the violence by,
And while the war is standing by;
The war began without a glance –
It’s good to see more suicide.

Love among the dying schools;
Love among the dying schools;
Love among the dying schools.

Your numbers shine, go dust them now.
They do not live without the sun;
The Earth machine, the power play
Of public shares and puppet banks.
Without the bombs, the killing fields.
All at once go block the doors;
Once they clear the world of you,
They start again the greedy men.

Love among the dying schools;
Love among the dying schools;
Love among the dying schools.

Rise up the walls, the seas, the tide;
And while the war is standing by;
You must bite the devil’s throat
And go outside to use your skin.
Every art will now be sold;
Among the wire mesh of souls.

Love among the dying schools;
Love among the dying schools;
Love among the dying schools.

Here Lies Pool Boy, Vol 2

I think this one is my favorite.

Here Lies Pool Boy, Vol 5

This is the folksiest of the volumes – produced closer toward my time in Boise.

Space Jazz

I took drum samples from my Uncle John’s records when I went up there to visit one summer in Ithaca. I put these on the Kaos pad sampler and then jammed with David McKelvey in my apartment. Always liked these jams so in 2022 I added some extra synth parts to the third one and released it. What the heck.

S.O.S.

I wrote this music around the theme of Saturn. For example, the frequency of tones on Moons is based around the periods of orbits and the chords derived from math I did regarding the spacing of the largest moons relative to each other in distance. God takes sample at/about the deity – using David Icke. Somehow I accidentally made him say “twerking” – which, come on people – is maybe one of the coolest things that’s ever happened! My friend Leif says it doesn’t sound finished. Nothing’s finished Leif, unless you decide it should be.