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Boy Scout Bubblegum

by This Isn't Just a Cult

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Snap the skins, snap the forks Snap the eggs, snap the sparks Snap the swan, snap the gifts Snap the broker, snap the wrists Snap the two, snap the two Snap the means, snap the booze Snap the suits, snap the screws Snap the works, snap the mules Snap the sleep, snap the fools Snap the two, snap the two Burn your fingers, burn your clothes Burn your uncle, burn your toes Burn the screws, burn the weather Place it in me, close it on me Burn the two, Burn the two It cooks right through you
Infesting the streets with their hairspray lies Slaughter with a hammer and spray-paint the skies Pulled apart, spit upon. You’ll need a disguise No one walks around without a good lie Pulled apart, spit upon You’ll need to get high No one talks of love with a knife in their eye Are you the barrier? Are you the carrier? Are you the foreigner? Are you the coroner?
I was minding my business Eating and sleeping At the W, X, Y and Z When a man came over Gave me a clover And asked Why are you staring with me? Chewing Boy Scout bubblegum Or sneaking snacks in the prison yard I’ll take just the facts Painlessly You can keep your blankets of heat waves Your umbrellas for shade Your tambourine mule skin And your wayfaring pose Cuz the preacher has a sock He keeps his stash in there The evidence is clear But the law don’t even care He signals with a sound A sound that is so rare He’s the last great captain of Xenophobia He’s perching on a box He’s licking up his chops He’s underneath a chair His vacation spot is there He ponders at the moon He’s afraid of silver spoons He sleeps with one I shut And walks with John Wayne’s Strut But you couldn’t be more right About how wrong you are Here comes a dog that bites He claims you broke the law Without a judge in sight There’ll be a meeting in the bar The barkeeps uptight He doesn’t like your type
Just Pretend 04:53
I wrote upon the paper and I road upon the lands I rewrote the fire that drew up the plans And the source code was empty of all of the new commands Because the witness held the fire in both of her sure hands There’s no recourse for the envy if you want to just pretend There’s no fire in the substance when all of this just ends There are tires and pliers in jokes that are in the stands There’s a long-distance fire that is burning up the plans I’ve got recourse and envy in each of my sure hands I’ve got ten tons of witness for all of this pretend You can’t live on pure junk juice throughout the long weekends Cuz the fire just grows higher when we live in just pretend The witness is for higher and the jokes are on command Like the embassy fires that burn in the highlands You can witness tightening pliers as they tighten up your hands Your recourse for higher is not an all good plan Sell all your substance and sell both of your hands Sell the great refugee until this world will end I’ll write up a new song to sing it on weekends I’ll kill all the substance and then we’ll just pretend Cuz the fire has grown higher than anyone had planned And this gross misdirection is so we can pretend That my witness, your substance, is made out of skin To grow higher than the fire that burns on the weekends This junk juice is for liars and nothing that I miss I rewrote the source code to let it all pretend I long for the new time wonder and begin To grow higher with the fire and the new found substances For the liars who are higher than all the best of friends The witness I fire will now meet the end Of refugee substance with junk juice just for friends Can you witness my new lyre as it sings in misty mist? Your refugee is for higher singing songs about the end Don’t relapse on my heart strings and government weekends Don’t pander to the lyres when my song begins again I’ll start up a new song to create a brand-new end I’ll consecrate a new world with some junk juice from a friend I’ll designate a fire to burn up it again Let’s relegate the lyres to play it from begin They’ll play their junk for higher and then we’ll just pretend
In my two car Garage Between her Honda and my Dodge I’ve got my B&B For my BBC ‘Cuz it’s a beautiful Life Oh, it’s a beautiful Life It’s a beautiful Life I’ll wear fantastic ‘til the last stitch It’s a beautiful life My patchwork is not made of plastic It’s a beautiful life My open arms are filled with magic It’s a beautiful life I’ll wear fantastic ‘til the last stitch It’s a beautiful life [Break] ‘Cuz it’s a beautiful Life Oh, it’s a beautiful Life It’s a beautiful Life I’ve got your gold and I’ve got your cashmere It’s a beautiful life I’ve got kisses for your ears It’s a beautiful life I’ve got whispers for your tears It’s a beautiful life I’ve got arms of magic It’s a beautiful life ‘Cuz it’s a beautiful Life Oh, it’s a beautiful Life It’s a beautiful Life


Boy Scout Bubblegum is the second album from the collective known as This Isn't Just a Cult. Recorded in the Tanzania, Mexico, Vietnam and the United States, these six songs explore the electro-industrial territory of Renegade Soundwave, Ministry and Nine Inch Nails from the perspective of a first time tank driver spilling their cocktail while trying to adjust their night vision goggles.


released February 7, 2021

Christopher Campbell: Beats & Electronic Manipulations
Mint Machete: Guitar
Björ6n Oranj: Lyrics & Vocals
Bosky Rumbluffer: Guitar & Engineering
M0ssy Tr0n: Vocals


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This Isn't Just a Cult Minneapolis, Minnesota

A part-time cabal. A fusion of assemblage art, hurly-burly, bedlam, disquiet and poetry. Indie music, art, writing and treasure.




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