Cloud 9

by Chain Link Stains

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released August 1, 2011

This album was made by five people:
Recorded and mastered at LDB Studios by Tyrone Emmons.
Band photos by Stephen Savarimuthu.
All art direction and everything else by Chain Link Stains.



all rights reserved


Chain Link Stains Morganton, North Carolina

Back in the studio recording follow-up/parallel album ROCK BOTTOM.

CLOUD 9 is pay if you wanna.

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Track Name: Summer

Conveyor bible belt into a suit and tie I'm sorry but I think I'll pass.
What a shame, what a shame,
I only have half a brain but I gotta say I've gotten used to the rattle.
Feel like I'm wasting time when I can't get the motivation to make mistakes.
What a shame, what a shame,
I've never been so bent about a lack of batteries but I'm the toy in need.

If I'm not cut out for this I'll nail myself to my bed 'cause I'd rather be dead to the world than silence what's in my head. If I'm not cut out for this I think I'd rather be dead. If I'm not cut out for this...

Black coffee barreling down my veins I got a hammer and you look like a nail. What a waste, what a waste,
I took a ton of time on good taste and every tooth in my head is rotten.
I've spilled the blood of so many pens addressing letters to the fucking world.
What a waste, what a waste,
The radio it aches of insincerity while maintaining a grip on the herd.

Coming this summer to the trunk of a car near you
from the hearts of all of us, the gnawed and chewed--
Painted like paradise and stamped with an O.K.--
A death letter to the better-off dead.
Track Name: You're In My Way
You're In My Way

Hey you, take a look around. If you hate this town the way I do, you'll help me burn it down. You say you're burning with desire. We'll see how strong you are when this town sets you on fire.

We are the soldiers of the rank and file. Single-file line until we die.
We're dying like it's going out of style but we're staying in the fight.
We are the children of the lost and found, still strong and we're standing proud. Leave us alone and we'll spare your life. We'll bury you alive.

Slow-rotted and undercooked, I'm a teenager armed with a dirty look with headphones on, walking down the street. I tuned out before you even started to speak. Eyes like lasers, tongue like a razorblade, hands like hammers, and a mind like a hand grenade. I haven't had a thing to eat all day, if you aren't behind me then you're in my way.

We are the rats in the sewer drain living life with only half a brain. When we die we're gonna leave a stain so you cannot forget our lives. We are the riots in your homes and streets just looking for some food to eat. We haven't been able to sleep for weeks but nobody's going to sleep tonight.

We are the rats in the sewer drain. We are the aneurysm in your brain.
We are the soon-to-be-declared insane. We are the weakest links in the chain.
We are the victims of the lost and found. We are the revolution underground.
We are the sirens, we are the sound. We're coming up just to take you down.
Track Name: Let's Get Out
Let's Get Out

Come on now baby girl, let's show 'em what you're made of. Paper flowers and candy hearts- nothing to be ashamed of. You dream too big for this small town so follow me and we'll get out.

But don't look back 'cause I swear it's burning down and when you reach the city, look around. Just don't look back 'cause I swear it's burning down. Let's get out and make sure we're never found.

Come on now little girl, is this too much for you to handle? 'Cause all my words are lost and my brains are scrambled. But it's too late, we can't stop now. Even if we could, I wouldn't know how.

Where will we be?
Where will we be when the earth stops spinning?
What will it feel like when we reach the end?
Where will we be when the earth stops spinning?
Maybe it's only just begun.
Track Name: Downward Spiral
Downward Spiral

I don't know how to say this. I don't know when to shut up. Get off the couch and try to move about but I'm stuck. No time for denial-- I'm on a downward spiral, my oh my. I got a feeling and it's time to shake it. I got a mold and it's time to break it. Know what I want and it's time to take it. It's about time for me to wake up.

I'm throwing daylight away, I'm throwing daylight away.
I gotta get off my ass, I gotta get on my way.
Wake up, rise and shine, up and at 'em.

I don't know what to tell you, maybe some things never change; I'm still the same old liar that I've always been. With a laugh so vile, I'm on a downward spiral, my oh my.

I'll tear a gaping hole in tradition.
Rip it apart at the seams.
Use the pieces for ammunition and empty a clip on routine.
The kids today have no shame. We never stand up we just complain and I will admit it's fun to dream, but when the day breaks you've got to wake up.
Track Name: Skyward Eyes/ Dirt
Skyward Eyes/ Dirt

Here's one more memory to base your life on and here's one last chance to say what you really meant 'cause my life is moving way too fast. I can almost feel it passing by and I just want it all to last. So I'll kick and scream and yell until I'm dead.

These children here have lost their souls.
The repetitions getting old.
We may be way off track but we'll never miss a beat--
Degeneration at it's best. A shot directly to your chest.
Doing all we can to live our lives with skyward eyes.

My halo's a little crooked. I must've hit my head when I saw Hell since I'm so fucking perfect. But we both know I wear it well. I just don't give a fuck at all. All I see is waste in all these faces. And I'm not sure they're worth it. All I can see is waste.

We are the kids who would not back down, who would not sit still, who would not get real, who live for dreams of silver dust and easy breezes while wading through dirt and rusted steel.
Track Name: From the Speakers
From the Speakers

This generic generation has turned to ghosts. Everywhere I look the scene, the teens are fucking comatose. When you get sick of the same old lines [and] when you get tired of all the crying we'll probably still be here so just let us know.

In this town we'll turn the volume up until it's loud enough to fuck you up and make the sound coming from the speakers.

This generic generation makes me ashamed. Punk rock don't taste as good out of the microwave. I like it raw and when it bleeds and when it claws and when it screams. Nothing about rock and roll should be pre-made.

This generic generation is fucking dead. This is what happens when you over-force-feed your head. You don't enjoy being alive, there's no way that you will survive unless you overcome the trauma of the trend.

We've got the finger on your pulse as your heartbeat skips.
We've got the audio pollution in an I.V. drip.
We've got the hypodermic shot of adrenaline.
This is your kickdrum to eardrum medicine.
Track Name: This is Home
This is Home

We're all just idle and in need of some alienation, a stranger's bed to sleep in and an awkward situation. We leave our immaturity wide open for the world to see, we cut our teeth on tragedy and still can't face the fact that

This is home. We hate it here but this is home.
This is the next best thing to nowhere.

Big heads, small minds for days. On high horses, took low roads for pay. False teeth, imitation care for the preacher damning their affairs. Adding up weekday transgressions, put 'em on the tab that you're paying, charging with the credit card 'cause debt's no threat to you and you're saying:

Sin on Saturday, repent on Sunday,
Sin on Monday, again through Friday.
Bottle opener on the belt buckle of a Bible Belt that we call Hell
Sin on Saturday, repent on Sunday.
Sin on Monday, again through Friday.
Bottle opener on the belt buckle of a Bible Belt, home sweet broken home.