Dinosaurs In A Mining Facility (single)

by Grandpa Egg

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A new song by Grandpa Egg
In anticipation of a new film by JambleVision
The no-budget, sci-fi, feature length brainchild of Jordin Goff
Sponsored by WAMO

"Dinosaurs In A Mining Facility" (J.Morris / J.Goff)
"Grand Tyranite's Lament (J.Morris)

Produced by Bart Morris
Artwork by Grandpa Egg

Mastered-version available for download coming soon!

credits

released July 26, 2018

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all rights reserved

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Grandpa Egg Kent, Ohio

Psych-folk out of Kent, Ohio

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Track Name: Dinosaurs In A Mining Facility (pre-master)
Shadows scratching claws in the hollow-dark
Scattered thoughts and paws as you fall apart
Matters if you make something of yourself
Though mining can be hell

Maybe it’s an inkling inside your head
That has your stomach sinking a pint of lead
Fumbling for your flashlight a moment lost
Another miner sauced

Dinosaurs in a mining facility
Dinosaurs in a mining facility
Killing me

Got some fucking kids that you ought to feed
Pairs of sox and juiceboxes all I see
Is a purple orb spinning in the void
Cost you can’t avoid

Lights shine through stalagmites glowing strange
Prehistoric portal another plane
Just another skull for the catacomb
Within this Moldarian fane

Dinosaurs in a mining facility
Dinosaurs!
Dinosaurs in a mining facility
Dinosaurs!

Dinosaurs in a mining facility
Dinosaurs in a mining facility
Killing me
Their teeth have teeth
And the teeth that have teeth
They have teeth on their teeth

Dinosaurs in a mining facility (x4)

Who's that with the chainsaw?
Johnny Anaconda!
Ians seeing that there's something going on yeah
Doctor Stone is a nasty man
Executives got his master plan
Creatures from another world

Dinosaurs in a mining facility (x4)

Planet Tyranus is so far up in the sky
Now you gotta go on a quest
Now you gotta give it your best
Got so save the world!
Make something of yourself
Track Name: Grand Tyranite's Lament (pre-master)
Nothing more we come to this
A floating mass in a black abyss
Without a home are you ever the same?
Or just another talking brain

Mob-O-lob dob-A-rob
By rites they called to me
Born of the embers et lore
As I am free

Am I all that I claim to be?
Or just a wad of pink debris
Floating on in this black abyss
A bloated mass in a spaceship

Mob-O-lob dob-A-rob
By rites they called to me
Wake from a century scorn
As I am free
Oh in the stars I see

If it all come to pass
Matters not then perhaps
Better off I’d be
On a drunk beside the sea
On a beach with a Chill Freeze

Nothing more we arrive at this
A bloated mass in a black abyss

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