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Girls Just Want to Have Gun

by Nora Nygard

/
1.
Sitting in front of the TV Dullness is a symptom of soberness Yelling, screaming, and venting Daily doldrums is a way of life Awkward silence and awkward conversation Put a blindfold on the past’s causation “So what do you know? “Not much, nothing new.” “So what else do you know?” “Same, nothing else has come thru.” You call my phone and I simply ignore You’re not at home, but in The Cowboy State banging a whore “I’m going to Wyoming, happy birthday.” “Alright later, safe travels on your way.”
2.
The not so unfortunate girl, she’s pretending to have cancer. Those non-sensical sentences and non-sense name drops. You wear them life false teeth to undermine what’s actually beneath. Here, take an Efferdent to clean and supplement those fucking teeth. Bitch. It’s the girl pretending to have cancer. She never had cancer; she really doesn’t have cancer. She never had cancer.
3.
Am I really experiencing this? I remind myself with a clenched fist. The clouds they clot my vision. This reality is nothing but indecision. I’m awake, is this really happening? I think, therefore I am. I’m awake, is this really happening? I must be, cause this quesadilla just taste so good. The days they move through fragments and phrases. While everything I do can slip through this haze. Moments of clarity interject, While I just leave everything else unchecked. I’m awake, is this really happening? I think, therefore I am. I’m awake, is this really happening? I must be, cause this Baja Blast just tastes so good. According to the Greek Sophist Gorgias in On Non-Being: The non-existent does not exists in so far as it is non-exists, it exists or is. The existent does not exist either. If the existent exists it is either eternal, created, or both created and eternal. If it is eternal then it has no beginning. If it has no beginning, then it is infinite. If it is infinite, it is nowhere. If it is anywhere, then it can’t be spatially infinite. If it can’t be anywhere, it cannot exist. If it is created then it has been created out of the existent or the non-existent. It can’t be created from the existent because the existent doesn’t yet exist. It can’t be created from the non-existent because the non-existent can’t create anything. The eternal and created cancel each other out. Neither the non-existent nor the existent exist. Dillon, John and Gergel, Tania. (eds.). (2003). The Greek Sophists (pgs. 67-75). Great Britain: Clays LTD. Print. A moment can blow by or last forever Or this might not even be a real endeavor. They say that this might be subjective. Does it reside in my mind or in the objective? I’m awake, is this really happening? I think, therefore I am. I’m awake, is this really happening? I must be, cause this Taco Bell tastes so fucking good.
4.
North, north by north-east. East, east by south-east. South, South by south-south west. Pause. Drop some soma, cures dangling feet. South-south, south-west by south-south east. South-east, east by east. North-east by north. Drop some soma, cures dangling feet. “Slowly, very slowly, like two unhurried compass needles, the feet turned towards the right; north, north-east, east, south-east, south, south-south-west; then paused, and, after a few seconds, turned as unhurriedly back towards the left. South-south-west, south, south-east, east…” Aldous Huxley – Brave New World
5.
Your raccoon eyes and red skin Peer into me as you win. I gaze vacantly at the TV before me. Refracted electronic prisms pulsate as I see. Wow My mind is easily arts and entertained, Stupidity that turns out so great. Brandi, thank you for your cooperation, To aid in the fact of my stimulation. Wow
6.
7.
It’s hard to recover From post-trilogy stress disorder. After Mordor and mini-put, Josh Thornton rose from the tourist trap of Medora. She ran Anne Hathaway with my teenage heart. I’m just Heath Ledger joking, I once greeted her by name. Hardly any chemistry in chemistry class. Now, even less, my neck would only crane. I put Axe in my hair to fix this mess And crack a Coke to open some happiness. It’s still hard to recover From post-trilogy stress disorder. I saw Mt. Doom and missed the 4M Revue. “Do you guys work in here?” Haha, laughing as we withdrew. I’m going to head back to UND for some living, Maybe I’ll get to finally do some re-living. Someday soon, I’ll strap on those rollerblades, Cause I’ll be in love and the rest will all fade. I put Axe in my hair to fix this mess And crack a Coke to open some happiness I’m really never going to recover From this post-trilogy stress disorder. Ahhh, fuck it. I’m never going to recover From post-trilogy stress disorder. Royal Raceway was Obie’s Bane. Some things really never change.
8.
Hours go Rivers flow I am apart I am a part In the terror of life and death In the terror of life and death It was a promise I kept It was a promise I kept empty those coat pockets let me ask if I can when the floodlight shines will it stay to the end? what was it you said? when the morning comes will it take you instead? I should be dead.
9.
but I’m not that kind of banister wood and cut and carrier home cliches happen when they’ve got a straight direction planned a street getaway to where it were known past the sweet drink hold it right in front a capital A for “A quick way to carry me home” then but for a brief second it’s written out of England ripped from 1921 and resewn into a tome send him off on his way turn a gallon into staring contests until he can’t feel his legs send him off on his way turn a gallon into staring contests until you throw him through the banister lost keys locked door so ya sleep under the bridge past the porno store what do you use your consciousness for? the west coast is the eastern shore lines up like a banister, water flows free through the posts sand caught pulls down ‘til all that’s left is your ghost fell asleep. It was July woke up. It was November Did I kill that cop? I can’t remember 21 vorticists make a fortune leasing mineral rights to Halliburton. Each steals a barrel (no one’s lookin) spins a wheel, spills the oil down the Medway, lights a match, pots and cups, flame the river, fire clay. 21 vorticists are burning to pour with it. 21 vorticists are burning to pour with it. Now.
10.
everybody’s trash is finally coming ‘round to me
11.
Maybe it was how tall she is. Maybe ... I knew her, she knew me. We just felt safe. There it was. It was all that mattered. It was all we needed. She talked like I’m a real person. I spent my time proving there’s nothing I wouldn’t let her take. We just felt safe. I slipped the dream again. I wave to forfeit. I had my chance, I blew it, fuck it. Smoke in the cottonwoods is running water over our heads like looking up from the bottom of the lake; let’s take a bath in the middle of the day. I’m breaking, I’m breaking to reach to you. If you add that second, will it stop? The fog is wounded, I’m waiting to exit, but there’s nothing like waking up, nothing like waking up. We’d rather die than stifle in the arms of our parents. I had my chance, I blew it, fuck it. Another cancer with a can to spray I’m not the contest piss Don’t think of me that way I’m not a man of fist to chest or trusting names with zeal of single traits Don’t think of me that way Don’t think of me that way Smoke in your black sweater is where my face buried all the memories of you went I was there at the beginning, the middle, the end You bolted up when the rain fell on the tent
12.
I saw David Morse. The actor? Yeah. walking on Rosser walking on Rosser I asked him what it felt like to die “do you regret leaving your daughter?” I asked him what it felt like to die “do you regret leaving your daughter?” Ouais. Ouaip, certes oui. I especially liked the scene where she says, Daddy I’ll grow up to be an alcoholic vegetarian What’s that supposed to mean? All calls are being screened When I look at my body and see it moving see it shifting fluids I feel the blood in my brain and my lungs do the breathing - that’s the feeling, that’s the feeling I imagine you have. Zach G swings by in his jeep going a hundred miles and thirteen torso out the window shouts, Pilot car follow me
13.
Pyramid 01:17
what’s that in the distance? It’s not a monument, it’s not a pyramid, it’s not white paint. Fire plastics it’s too bright, I can’t see stuck in the thick of my neck a burning spider having sex it’s too bright, I can’t see she’ll be dead before it’s dark again. midnight glare hits his shades but he’ll still watch the flare from space he calls me up from on top of that bluff says, “My life’s a waste” it’s too bright, I can’t see your eyes are ashen but if you had ‘em you’d cry with me it’s too bright, I can’t see
14.
I loved you before he ever met you I’ll keep my mouth shut. You walked in that door and I look forward where there’s no breath but I watched him take you time knows those who need fall down with it But time’s moving on you‘re golden and strong I hope to see you meeting new loves. burn that paper drive North, ashes scattered spend my nights alone on the Spur Road You pound those ties down the railcar speeds now until you bury it. But the spurs, they rise up in the heat of winter before that hole’s fixed. I’m fallen, slipping beneath the sleepers. I long to find her. burn this letter drive North, ashes scattered spend my nights alone on the Spur Road Can’t you see I’m dying here? I’ve been so far without you but can’t you come home? Without you I’m trying to kill the hope inside of me. I refuse to replace the abandoning. Drive the spikes into the mourning. Puncture lungs and breathe. But the streetlamps move to the moon and the wheat blades move while the sun’s down I am glad to be alive right now. I loved you before he ever met you I’ll keep my mouth shut.
15.
I want to cut the bullshit out from everything walk 10,000 miles with no hope or self-praise to sing and when I return, I’ll sit around a table with my parents and eat charcoal burning in our backyard on our patio on 10th street. there’s a prison walking down the coast on the coast there’s a prison walking down there’s a prison walking down the coast on the coast there’s a prison walking down there’s a prison in my face there’s a prison in my chest there’s a prison in my arms there’s a prison in my legs there’s a prison in my dick there’s a prison in my waist there’s a prison in my veins there’s a prison in my veins If I scream hard enough can I shatter these walls? You ask, What am I called. I want to be a There’s nothing more strange than your hometown and the body you grew up with and the probability that that’s what you’re given. What are the chances I’d get what I got - and how do I accept it? When you tell me that I’m in the wrong - I say I know, I can feel it, I can feel it. I want to be a girl. She’s driving tonight with her daughter and her wife. She’s driving tonight with her little baby girl and her gun-slinging wife. The kingfisher takes flight from it’s twin she’s everyone now brings the sweet bay leaves to the calluna gives life to the ground. She’ll be a girl.
16.

credits

released August 8, 2013

Josh Thornton: Recording and Mixing on 1-7 / Lyrics and Songwriting on 1-7 / Vocals on 1-7 / Electric Guitar and Bass on 1-7 / Drums on 1-7 / Electric Piano and Synthesizer on 6

Taylor Stockert: Additional Guitar on 6

Blonde Sasquatch: Guitar Solo on 1

Nora Nygard: Production / Recording on 8-16 / Mixing / Mastering / Cover Art / Graphic Design / Lyrics and Songwriting on 8-16 / Vocals on 8-16 / Electric Guitar and Bass on 8-16 / Drums on 8-16

Blake Burbach: Vocal Recording Engineer on 8-16

The film photographs were shot by Olivia Ridge, Michael Oberlander and Jake Rice.

oliviamridge.com

Side A: Tracks 1-7
Demos recorded summer 2012 in Glendive, MT
Recorded winter 2012 at 515 Boys Club in Grand Forks, ND

Side B: Tracks 8-16
Recorded summer 2012 in Bismarck, ND

The first edition of Girls Just Want to Have Gun was mixed and mastered in summer 2013. Mixing and remastering this edition took place between March 12, 2017 and November 13, 2020, and it was re-released December 4, 2020.

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Nora Nygard Saint Paul, Minnesota

I've always been searching. Drumming in punk bands. Singing into a cassette mic alone. Trans angst, alienation, going on the road. Synthesis, tape, poetry. Two failed tours, two failed degrees. Reclaiming my voice from the choir, reshaping my voice after punk rock. Years of isolation, hormone therapy, production studies, and hundreds of releases with various projects. ... more

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