Natural Born Losers

by Nicole Dollanganger

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7時のニュース
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7時のニュース Sonically, "Natural Born Losers" is basically Grimes through a Lana Del Rey prism (a great thing, in my opinion). Lyrically, though, it's in a class all its own, viscerally unflinching in its artistic scope and hauntingly beautiful in its sheer ugliness. It's an album that's definitely going to stick with you. Favorite track: Mean.
Imogen Betros
Imogen Betros thumbnail
Imogen Betros fucking gorgeous. if i could make everyone in the world listen to one album before they die, it would be this one. Favorite track: Executioner.
shithead
shithead thumbnail
shithead Equally harrowing and beautiful, this album is perfect and I could listen for hours on end. You're an angel. Favorite track: Executioner.
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credits

released October 9, 2015

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Nicole Dollanganger Whitchurch Stouffville, Ontario

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Track Name: Poacher's Pride
i shot an angel with my father’s rifle
i should have set it free, but i let it bleed
made it into taxidermy, hung it on my wall
i shot an angel, kept it in my backyard
hung it out to dry on the clothing line
pinned above my bed like the cross
of jesus christ on the wall
and i know one day hell will catch up to me
and i’m sure that i will burn eternally
one day it will come to claim its pound of flesh
when it’s done, there won’t be anything left
i shot an angel, dragged it to my basement
starved it till it died and i did not cry
sickness of poacher’s pride
Track Name: Mean
born a cop in uniform in black vinyl gloves
i don’t hate you for your steel-toed boots
or your handcuffs
you are the way you always were
you like your cruel games
but i am not so quick to break
i count my gain in blood & pain

i like it when it hurts like hell
there’s nothing you can do to me
i wouldn’t do to myself
i’ll be bound to you in leather & chains
i’ll be your sister your young bride
your daughter your slave
Track Name: White Trashing
empties lined along the porch
shoot them dead, show no remorse
white trashing with you
live in endless afternoon
making love to the Sunday cartoons
white trashing with you

all that glitters is not gold
and this same place is getting old
but dreams are fulfilled
where the purple grass grows
i can see it all just beyond our window

innocence that i have bled
carved your name into my leg
white trashing with you
plastic jesus, Santa Claus
rotting like relics in the yard
white trashing with you

inherited your dad’s crazy eyes
history repeats our whole damn lives
yeah this place gets old but it’s really hard
to scrub the dog piss out of a white trash heart
Track Name: Swan
the swan sang with a broken neck
out by the pool, behind the fence
you can’t forgive me when
you know if i had the gun i’d
choose to shoot again

he raised my hands in the backyard
he taught me to be a good shot
you love the sound of sorry
even when you know i’m not

in the holy land of broken homes
you still pretend you don’t know
that i took it out back and i
snapped its neck just like
a wishbone and let it die

he raised my hands in the backyard
he taught me to be a good shot
you love the sound of sorry
even when you know i’m not
Track Name: In the Land
hell has a name — “satan’s den”
got the lock on the trailer, got the tape recorder in
he’s gonna strap her to the bed, spread apart her legs
and pull the soul out of the body that its in
and when he’s done he will give her to the earth
a starving animal will always feed
god as his witness he’ll smile
as he watches her bones slide between its teeth

never grow old, never grow old
in the land where she’ll never grow old
never grow old, never grow old
in the land where she’ll never grow old

give it up for the milk carton angel
soaked in vomit, tied up at the kitchen table
choking on the chicken bones, a plate of mashed potatoes
her momma screaming “come on, bitch, chew and swallow”
when she’s done she will give her to the earth
wrap her in bags on the side of the road
god as her witness she’ll smile
as she sets her on fire and watches her go
Track Name: Alligator Blood
drinking a cup of alligator blood
tastes like the heads & feet we’d see
for sale at the local pawn
we’d make necklaces out of
i’d wear them round my neck
i’m a sucker for the love of the flesh
all things rancid and delicate
but the smell in the summer heat
it still gets to me

knee-deep in the poacher’s dream
he dragged that thing out back and he
hung it upside down & slit its belly open
and then he let it bleed out
he held my head & made me watch
filled my mouth up with its blood and said
“grow up weak or grow up tough”

playing in the swamp of alligator blood
behind our house in the marshy lawn
he’d always hold my head
under the water a little too long
cuz he wanted me to be all guts no glory
“all survivor, no guilt” he said
but he calls me his crocodile tears
while i’m chained up to the bed

when i was done - wiped my mouth on his sleeve
i fucked the soul of the south but it crucified me
Track Name: Executioner
baby, you have to pay in this way or another
in this life or the next
for as long as we’ve known each other
you’ve been playing this game with death

one day you will be tried
on the execution line
he’ll strap you in & you will fry
like fireworks on the 4th of July

baby, you have to pay in this way or another
whether you can cry or not
oh, how sad to face the judgement
unprepared to meet your god

he will wear a rubber coat
shoot lightning through the vital veins
they think that you emit the light
but you only take it in

the man in uniform will come
and he will stick it in the arm
you’ll scream out for your father
and in darkness i pray you
never find him again
(everybody fries in texas)
Track Name: American Tradition
he wants to lift weights like a fighter
we put the medals on the wall
lost in the room of starving vultures
gold trophies, he got em all

he wants to be just like his father
we play the knife game on the table
i bleed to death, it doesn’t matter
cuz my baby he’s still the winner

he holds me in his arms but it’s no good
things don’t go like they should

sleep on the carpet through the night
we’re living off a TV dinner
hanging me up by his gold chain
he used to be a hockey player

i used to be a figure skater
cutting my leg with the blade
in the blue and red arena
trying to pretend we’re the same
Track Name: Angels of Porn (II)
my bedroom smells like rotten food
and i guess so do i
it’s harder to be good in here
than it is to starve and die

i’d give my body to satan
if i could only keep my soul
but i can’t seem to find the split
between them anymore

my hair is falling out again
and i don’t really care
i try to stir my conscience
it was never really there

your fingers up inside of me
feel like fingers down my throat
everything is fine in heaven
but i’ll never get to know

make sacrifice in bathtubs
and stained bed covers
soak all of my clothes in holy water
and drown them like a crying son
drown them like a crying daughter
praying in the night to the angels of porn
nails in their wrists, knees on the floor
great lakes full of cum extracted from everyone
Track Name: You're So Cool
you’re so cool you’re so cool
walking down the hall
wild eyes they are black
like the magic 8 ball
you got guns for trophies
mounted up like animal heads
with the skulls of all the
high school champs you keep
in rows above the bed, you told me

“when i’m good, i’m very good
but when i’m bad, i’m better”
i'm yours forever, i'm yours forever

you’re so cool you’re so cool
i’ll bet when you were born
all the orange crush & ne-hi soda
bottles in the world fizzed over
they wanna break yr heart
but it’s made of blood & tar
you carry all that suffering
like a gun between your arms
you told me:

“when i’m good, i’m very good
but when i’m bad, i’m better”
i'm yours forever, i'm yours forever

& i see the future and there’s no death
cuz you and i we’re angels