(At Least) Three Cheers for Cause and Effect

by Fiction

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about

(At Least) Three Cheers for Cause and Effect is an album born of a haunting obsession with David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest.

credits

released July 29, 2014

Written and Recorded by Fiction
Produced by Fiction and Jonathan James
Mixed and Mastered by Jonathan James

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about

Fiction

We are a band named Fiction. We write novel-centric concept albums and make them available for free. Our first album was inspired by Lev Grossman’s The Magicians. Our sophomore effort focuses on Infinite Jest, by David Foster Wallace. The new record is called (At Least) Three Cheers for Cause and Effect and will be released 7/29/14. ... more

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Track Name: Year of Glad
it ends now: limbs inactive, pretending to be passive
phasing through walls to you

don't believe what you hear, never trust an open ear
just waiting for another head to turn

clouded eyes in misty spaces where girls with guns and boys with braces
crawl to share a dime or two

the film room is a wreck now
the colors became warping hues, the wind that blows radiates fumes
we dropped this once, I’m going alone

surrounded by the officials discussing tertiary symbols
they're circumspect, there's tension in a room that's wild and ripe for speaking

meanwhile, blissfully sadistic
we’re all up in your business where cartridges are stacked to the moon
weapon or entertainment: it’s not your call it isn't up to you

the doors they were revolving, our eyes met, I broke down sobbing
it might sound like something awful, I know...

the only thing I feel is home
Track Name: Let's Shoot Our Wastes into Space!
when it’s over, don’t say ‘at least I tried’
or ‘wounds will heal with time’

from the outset eyes were glowing in the darkness
c’mon sneak up, I’ll forgive it once
when the details link effect to the cause
and the act’s done, gotta clean it up

this story needs at least three cheers for cause and effect

the waste, shoot it into space
now give the land away
a limb to amputate, or disinvest like the man
who tears his life apart for some grasping in the dark
and try as he may, he can’t fuck away the shame
and when this crashes down again
something familiar will begin
but tell me who’ll be there to think of what was wasted
Track Name: The Samizdat
it feels so familiar, I could swear
maybe I once knew you, but from where?
are you Quebecois? all I can say is c’est la vie…
you might be talking, but I won’t be listening

forbidden features of a face
is it the one that stowed me to this place?
we are all reborn, albeit with apology
you might be talking, but I won’t be listening

I wanna see you again

no, I don’t mind being entertained
something thoughtful, something reassuring

compete for syntax — what a waste
these failing synapses fire away
there are no worries now
no writing letters full of synopses
you might be talking, but I won’t be listening
Track Name: Les Assassins des Fauteuils Rollents
the truth is we all want the same
there is but one end on the way

even after all this time
your life’s as fragile now as mine

now in the fog, I breathe the fumes
I take one step toward home and I leap to you
after all, it’s my fantasy
some want it all, I want you with me

even if you’re as real as I
a place in the heart’s not a place in the mind

just want you with me
Track Name: Sorry All Over the Place
found the stacks of paper, mountains of disorder
viewing all the video, films you haven’t finished yet

there’s a world that you made here
it’s more true than anything else that’s real
took a mess of letters; made em something beautiful
like painting by the pixel, it’s so undeniably pure

who cares for your questions when you have all the answers?
where do you go for syntax when you’re the keeper of the words?
what’s the higher power when you’re the highest power?
where do you go for comfort when you have become the cure?

your waves ran parallel to earth

found the stacks of paper, mountains of disorder
viewing all the video, films you haven’t finished yet

...you won’t
Track Name: Found Drama
listen, I’m not sure if you’re at home, or if your sister’s there
or if you have one at all...

victimless crime this neo-realist, anti-confluential mind
or just an artist who has become numb

after the holidays the loneliness sets in, another restless hour
and you know that you should go lie down
but the bedroom’s so far...
Track Name: Politeness Roulette
am I paranoid? is this commonplace?
am I far too young to always feel this way?
someone dropped the ball deep in outer-space
extending arms while we drift away, but...

there was a time when I had some peace of mind
these dreams are dark I’m nightly inflicted by
smiles and arms so wide they’re welcoming inside

embrace this little ruse
the one unspoken truth we share is:
all good heroes die before the end

if I’m lost in thought, please forgive my daze
it’s a sprawling plot, and the world’s at stake
every morning now, when I wash my face
I see the skin as it melts away, well...

after a while you forget the veil is on
there’s just this thin layer of darkness covering
everyone around in clouds of static lines
Track Name: Year of Dairy Products from the American Heartland
clearly, there were classic signs
patterns just as old as time, and we swore:
not to be bound by geographic locations
growing out roots only leave for vacations well...
we were captive here

laying on your childhood bed
we never would have wanted it
but we make the best

maybe we were here to rest
but we’ll do whatever our bodies ask
here in this room like we never envisioned
buts someone else did with a sick intuition and
how could you have known he was...

looking at your childhood bed
we never would have wanted it
but we make the best

we will wake up to find we’ve never been born
it’s all been a dream
we will glow with the radiation, love’s manifestation
just listen to me
we will stake out in our blindness, some creature will find us
inevitably
so hold on to your kindness, remainder of likeness
is all that I need
Track Name: Digital Photographs of Handwritten Messages
time will lay this body to waste
(I have made this lifetime a waste)

in terror or with grace
(in terrible disgrace)

I’ll reach out for your hand
(I'll reach out for a friend)

it’s okay, it’s the end
Track Name: Madame Psychosis
lazy nights like days in school
I’ll close my eyes and dream of you
I’m not the only one

look at all these boys you knew
they’d die and try to marry you
and in a way they did

when we meet we’ll lay in rows
talk about the world we know
the one we thought we did

feel like I could never die
live and learn while none survive
I’ve come to terms with it

if by some chance my luck ends
do you think that we could be friends
after what I did to you

so my ghost will always stay behind

when I dream the future bends
twist and turn till time relents
like a bloodborne pathogen

always now I see your face
from before it was erased
and unreplaceable

searching for some proper blame
was it instinct or your mother’s aim?
well the guilt, it took her too

in the graveyard, skulls are bare
reclaimed images stored where
the waves disfigured him

by and by I’ll realign
what is real is in the mind
I’ve convinced myself it’s true

the end is close, I’m feeling full of life

we will coalesce into a common swarm