Through Cardboard Walls

by Timmy Vilgiate

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released October 12, 2013



all rights reserved


Timmy Vilgiate Colorado Springs, Colorado

"This is the kind of music that really makes you think, 'Ahh yes, a good example of some music.'"
-New York Times

"Lol sounds like it was recorded on an iPhone."
-Internet reviewer

"If this music were a person, your aunt and her book club friends would see it passing on the street and wrinkle their noses in silent condescension."
-Fake review made up by Timmy other ones are real.
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Track Name: This Girl is On Fire feat. Agito
Wooden Girl burns quickly
Six shots to the head
Two and a half more than you forget
The bottles on the window
Body counts and stretchers
Waking up to new disasters
With this pounding in her head
As she witnesses her skin
Charred like dead campsites
Martyred for their sins
Brand new letters on her chest
As she collects the alphabet
And sews it to her clothes

Wooden girl speak softly
I don't want to hear you scream
Wooden girl, in pieces,
Can I have you here with me?
I didn't kill you but I broke you
And now you're breaking into me
All the while you're dissipating
And I can't find the strength to speak

Wooden girl grins politely
Accepts matchsticks, new friends and lighters
Cigarette hanging like a glider
Smoke rose, the crowd froze, she
Smiles unlike her
And ever since I killed her
I have tried to take it back
Each hole inside her dress
Each tear inside her bed
Does she know that I love her?
Or did repetition lose it's taste?
Routine bites hard and we are circling back again
Love tearing into the skin of our backs
Like the teeth of a nine tailed cat.

I wrote you a letter
On a broken piece of canyon bark
Charred by arson long gone
I carved you poems in the dark
It's the way they've rebuilt this city
With waves of fire and waves of flood
I walked down to the river
And I dipped your letter in the blood
Track Name: What's a boy supposed to do?
She's the girl in the corner
With the crisp complexion
She's the girl in the silence
And you want to know her
She doesn't see herself
And you'd like to show her

So tell me now,
What's a boy supposed to do
When all he wants
Is exactly like you?

I'd like a girl who looks just like her
That can smile just like her
Make the dark much brighter
I'd like a girl with August on her lips
Waiting for September
With her hands on her hips

I'd like a girl with a heart made of water
Her demeanor inviting
She can drown out the night
I'd like a girl, when she walks around the room
She laughs just like a hymnal
A dance like spirits do

She dances there, she dances there as spirits do.
Track Name: 8th & Cimarron feat. Joseph Irvin
I saw your ghost
It was dancing in the streets again
Your blue dress was like a flower
Twirling in the wind
You wore the night sky
As your own jewelry
Elegantly, you won the ground around you
Possessed it with your tattered grace
As spirits do
I stopped the car
Pulled back it's foreign noise
For the better light
Of your songless hymns
Sung as spirits do
Buzzing like a fridge it clicked and whistled
But I turned the key around and I watched you
With all the respect due to a launching missile
You danced like water there
As spirits do

But then you saw me
Your eyes flashed like sirens
In a heat to the scene of a crime
Trails of red into blue
To entreat me to veer to the side
I felt someone
Shake on the bars of my rib cage
In a violently accelerating rage
And my shoulders weighed down to fight the clamor
Now abided in a stammer
The warm flesh of your palm
Cast about a constellation of fog
Like ice on a window
A jewel made of snow
The doors are all locked now
I said, "I have to go",
As spirits do, as spirits do
All spirits do, just as spirits do
Track Name: Don't Worry
In between my hands
Pressed in China
Of Pakistani steel
Of American Iron
And human carbon
And sold in Arizona
Near the eastern border
As much to the road line my eyes to it's shape
It's sharp serrations and imagined sensations
Stuttered as the storm weather shakes fenestrations
Hurtled in my shell to the destination

Nomad; hunt and gather
What I can, although I would rather
Cast it aside and build a home right there

Black steel on black plastic
I wonder if I'm too dramatic
And I've hit self destruct in the bunker
Files weigh too much to bother
Slash through the traps I've set

Am a shovel
Shoved down into red clay
And scooped to move aside
Am a tunnel
A backwards wishing well
Blessings fly upwards as wishes rain down

This day will never be the day
I swear to you
I really mean it too.
This day will never be the day
But the weathers nice
So would you stay the night?

Laughing all the way,
I was laughing all the way

This day will never be the day
But tomorrows looking good
No! I swear that I'll be good
The words I've promised
And you've heard
This day will never be the day.


I see the microwave beep in
Prescience, secretly
Kitchen made prophet, Cutco swordsmith
Fervently inhale the signs and
Count down from ten waiting for end times
Mmm, smells like coffee, that's so good,
And so are bagels and quesadillas and spaghetti,
My favorite foods, and I am a sorcerer like CJ's the yeti
I finished the insides of the walls
And scream in reverberance
And the bright orange little cat sound's baby's call
As we knew it would
Every day the same basis
Because routine is easy prophecy.
Heresy of heresies and fallacy of fallacies
We branded our expectations of broken cycles
And untimely microwaves.

I haven't slept in 700 days
Only walked in my sleep
And I've dreamed and lived life in a beautiful place
I've smashed all the mirrors
I can't look at my face
No eye contact with myself
So it's easy to lie
The microwave always beeps right on time


If I throw the knife to the side
Of the car, what if someone sits on it
Tomorrow night or next week
What will they think?
Or what if I need it?
Do they think I'm weak?
No but I stare at myself very hard and I speak
You're staring right into a knife and
You're driving a car and you're
Well, suddenly motionless and I skittered to the right
Then the left again, into my lane
My place, get away or speed up...

...I'd like to get near someone who will hold my hand
And make it useless once again.
But I ought to prop myself up, right?
How else does Rand find redemption?