3.3 x 3.3 = S.S. is the 2nd album by Sound ƒuries, released 12/24/2019.

Available on Bandcamp, Amazon, iTunes, etc. or stream on youtube + Spotify, etc. (or download free)

Videos/lyrics below w/ links to bloggy liner notes for each track + here's general notes on the recording process.  


(1) V-dubbed (for the childless, our grandmothers + Nick Cave)

VVhose a frayed to wade the Ouse?
river rocks waying down yo shoes
to refuse the rite to choose (the blues)
aborts us to the humun zoo

loose lips sing “cheese”
to kraft a breeze
luz the line of site
D.U.I in the light

a bare broomstick swept under downy covers
back to the wheelhouse of wind-blown lovers

the witch cries "red rover," send your Ginnys + Billy Joes over now
cross the Hatchie river to the cliffs of Dover
we’ve seen it before + more + more we’ll see it again
fathers + mothers that outlive sons + dotters

VVho ain’t a frayed of Virginia Woolf?
false grandma’s in woolen clothes
both sides virgins shrouded in rouge
the stains bled as the tail goes

the rigging comes luz on Jennifur’s Veil
raise the white flag, no bonds to bale

VVho ain’t a frayed
to wade the Hades

the fairy x-ing was a wail of a tale
from Circe’s jail cell to the wombs of hell


in the back of a ’66 VW
for a last cigarette can i bug u?
in her birthday suit under the trenchcoat
Patty Hearst doubled as her scapegoat

the rite to choose
blues over the news
drowned on Sussex downs
in a black wedding gown

he said sucsses lays around every bed coroner
onelie if you’re fortunate to bee born hear (in California)

Virginia wouldn’t bee, if she was a mother
the kids chasing tail from Cannes to Cologne

VVho ain’t a frayed
to be tried in the Hague

they call it "kid" napping tho she was 19
she came in a blue Bug while we watched Mr. Green Genes

we reserve the rite to choose
to riverse the rights of Zeus


(2) LL (for Shelley Duvall)

colored greens sleep furiously
chomping at the skis
“Horseback salad” we bit, age 3
w/ a healthy dose of mineareyes

baited hook set into our cheek
tongue fishing for release
clanging landgauge bangs inside our head
12 bells ring for whom?
the deaf
not dumb

127 takes will bake in it’s toil
witch came 1st, the olive or the oil?
for yo trubbles we’re grateful for your coil

Mary, the motherless monster
Shelley, the childless frame
to hang their exploitations
associative blame
(heads hung in shame)

Deleuze committed sewerside
+ so will Dr. Phil
to not click the wormy bait takes will, powder
or a pre-scribed pill
the horror-nets nest kept Jack from
tumbling up the hill

+ she’ll sell cowries in the Sayshells
dubble-LLs spoon 2 times to a T
pop was never a good war-time consigliere
nor did Charlie surf at Sabang Beach

the same refrain
all ova a'gain
it ends in the same maze
where it begins
a wide-eyed meandering means
to an end


(3) C: / C-change / 6-yr snow

they say it’ll take C change to sway the whirled
1 day this will all be ours
in the waning hours, we'll grab our boards
> Apply sex wax, save or abort?

the waves come in sets of 11, like el niño
how sunspots d'rive the n-tire moondough

it’s not impossible a mouse could eat us all
or dat the moon’s made out of cheese
Cesar himself was born of a C-sexion
on + on the hippocrisis bleeds

2000 yrs + we can’t undo our rongs
30 years ago we dreamt this song:

/ /

last night it snowed though it's almost summer
it hasn't snowed here for 6 yrs
maybe it was the silence, like a blanket in the night
we don't know why we had this dream

we got up + danced, to the silence of the snow
+ then we really woke up at home

we were sleeping outside
on the road right next to home
the snow covered us but it was warm
when we woke up we didn't know where we were
it's always nice to wake up away from home

we got up + danced, to the silence of the snow
+ then we really woke up at home

(4) DK-2-K-OS

comes a sweet smell uv DK
rolling in off the bay
the westword push ain't no hayride in joy
soy-bomb blows the roof ahoy

panning 4 tin 2 begin again
4 the self-same bin 2 putt her in
mining 4 tin again 2 begin
2 putt her in the self-same bin

they came 4 the aura IT sold
from deep in the ground 2 the crown of 1's sole
out uv a black hat a white rabbit's pooled
chasing yo tale headfirst down the hole

b4 dams reclaimed the land
slept fishes under ceiling fans
detritus, slag + debris
tailings skinned for ∀ll 2 sea
the DK 2 K-OS begins + ends
w/ a bang dat ever mends

soroboruo ... ouroboros ... soroboruo

unsettled whether antis up yo berth
dead in the dirt from dusk 2 dawn
the cavities radiate on + on + on + on + on + on . . .

the gold rush baked in auguring jeans
cogs wound tight in borealis mashenes
honing in, driven 4th by greed
greenbacks wet w/sweaty deeds
the DK-2-K-OS begins + ends
w/ a bang dat Never mends
DK-2-K-OS west to DK
DK-2-K-OS best to DK

b-gin a-gain

(5) PBR Streetgang


(6) 3rd Rail / Atun 6.6

u wade there ½ underwater
it's become a reoccurring theam
wherein u stand, pacing in place waist deep
joined sacked at the hip to a hijacked dream

a loudspeaker announces the next train
the N-tire alphabet passes u by
mind the gap, dot Is cross Ts,
have a big todo in the taxi Q

take the A the way to PBR Streetgang
huddled under eaves w/12 foreign priests
T-boned in vain, abandon your name
pulling all the stops, don't hit the wrong vein

all aboard the A train
from Sugar Hill to Jamaica Bay
or hitch a ride w/ buried Paul
as far as Far Rockaway

C.S. Lewis + Aldous Huxley
died the same day as JFK
anon I'm us rose from the ashes
3 years later to the day

pool the chain to drain the bathtub
a city that never sleeps never wakes up
there'll always be another train
just as crowded, all the same

u have no madder in the choice
informs an unheard overhead voice

never touch the 3rd rail
never catch a flight when it hails

/ /

bee bedder in bed, sumthing Beckett said?
about sleeping in the 6th song, same as 3rd 1
counting black sheep

we live in the crawl space between the sheets
pillows billowing in turn a cumulus virga
or a golden fleece

honing in on home
Rome wasn’t built in an eve
all ye, all ye, oxen free

the rapid-fire flickering of sunlight
thru eyes ½-closed to the blight + DK
on a plane or train

the dreme mashene aligns to our heme-
o-globin count the fountain spoutin’ creme of the cream
of the sea

ever destined to roam
the rails or sails never lull
yes sir, yes sir, 3 bags full


(7) B9 x K9 4 Re:creation

P.S. a wireless guess (E.S.P.)
wild signal fire, to fan flowered flames
fuck-it use the tree

short-sheet, to cheat their sleep,
sheep count R.S.V.P. (use the tree)

2 by 2, 3 times 3
Fibbing nacho colony (Fibonacci)
5 by 5, marching to the hive
Royal Jell-o bleeds R.V.s

(seenk ruoy no nwod, peew me' daer)
read 'em weep, down on your knees, get naked for The Bee
bow down, reweave her gown, behold her majesty (behold the letter Q)
the letter Q, page 17, colored Navy blue + green
crowned in golden boughs, fleeced by unreal vows, i.e…

connect the ants, a galaxy, curtsy clockwise for waxy queens (B9 x K9, knight 2 bishop 3)
a carousel of napping tots inside the T.P.’ed tree
cookies cut w/ carbone rings + iced with anti-freeze (laced...)
Kool-aid punch or spiked hi-C kept at 98° d-grease
moldy orange in DK, bleeding green in courtyard shade, to say… (decays in the shade)

the gravity, of afternoon tea, kindergarten nation (gravity of genes)
seeped in blue genes
stripped down to the bone + garter belts
from the coloring book, the letters spilled

D.O.A., ship the coffin home on the Reading R.R. line,
RADAR from S.S. Archimedes leaves a ring by design
scribbled woes on Pee Chee toes (peachy toes)
take hold the baton as mine
shake the rattle to bake (in a papal state), rook to bishop 9 to 5, check mate (shake dog shake to mate)

from S.P.Q.R. to D.C.
ships freight our longings on high seas
no-holds-barred secrecy
for the bedder good of humanity (honing in on sleep...)

...P.B.R. streets)
read ‘em weep, down on your knees, get naked for The B
a royal flush trumps a full house of Jacks + Queens
the letter P, page 16, textiled Navy blue + green
O-varies cut from cloth of phylogenie
informs ontogenie (cut from genie’s genes)
from flawed genies


(8) LL Re:/cursive surf

baited hook still in our cheek
tongue fishing Für Elise
clanging landgauge bangs inside our head
12 bells ring for whom?
the deaf
not dumb

127 takes will bake it’s toil
witch came 1st, the olive or the oil?
for your trubbles we eggknowledge yo coil

/ /

a Fresnel lens sighs + shifts a ship,
to account for drift she slips what's left in her evening purse,
for coriolis force, the stairs dead end where she hides the C-horse
from that Pulitzer photo to Vertigo,
breathing beings reduced to decaying ghosts
out on the fire escape, rusted down to the bone,
the potted plants overgrown in rhizome
all hands, no veils... keep bailing to set sail

moving images of mission bells,
triple entendre, no word for hell,
all that's left, a lone unmanned drone,
a bee honing in on a home unknown,
the skeleton key hid under a bed of rock,
rusted boxspring hot-wired to a rotary dock
go fly a kite, in a lightning storm, from where u were born

says the voice on the other end of twisted line,
adorned in debris, a dirtbomb of grime
the cast iron tub on the 2nd floor,
all that still stands b-sides the frame of door
primordial goo oozes sex wax + sand,
gives birth to the raft where u happened to land
on your hands, feet 1st, to surf Sur-sea’s curse

in cursive surf

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