Half Empty "People Are Basically Good"

Not much can be found online about the CA punk band, Half Empty (sometimes spelled 1/2 MT). The label they were on (New Disorder Records) is still up & running, so that's nice. I purchased this CD through half.com believe it or not. It came with a sticker that read "1/2 MT an equation for optimism". Half Empty have male/female vocals and sometimes have very political lyrics. For this album, Chris played bass, Ernst sang and played guitar, Jack sang and played drums, and Rachel sang and played guitar and sax. Here are the lyrics for each song, along with a link to download that song.


"School Song" 
(Your parents never lie to you. And your teachers, what they tell you is true, why you go to school. I want to be your whipping girl. Ride the rollercoaster of your arbitrary rules. I want to learn my place with inflexible castes and to relish false rebellion in my one day skipping class. I want to learn to hate and fear with all of my heart. To be trained in boredom while I pick my desk apart. I want to be conditioned to forget it all as well when we shuffle chairs at the ringing of the bell. That's school...fuck school. If that's all there is, it's not for me. Eight lock-down hours of misery and when you're done it's bombs away. School's just one big fucking lie. You're learning nothing, big surprise. Five days a week. You wish you'd die and when they say you won't succeed. Succeed at what? I don't believe you've taught a thing I'll ever need. Drop out right now.)

"skit 1"
[Johnny, you rat-face piece of shit. We're sending the police over to come get your criminal ass and after they're done with you we're gonna kick the living shit out of you.]

"A Prayer For Martial Law"
(Lord keep me safe from things I don't like. Keep everything pure and out of sight. Build us walls so I'll never know it's there. Keep the television running so I'll stay scared. I don't want to deal with reality. I don't want to question must less see. I'm lazy and I'm scared and I'm not very bright. I need your opinion on what's wrong and right. Why pray for hope or pray for peace or pray for things I'll never see? Or other prayers, they're all flawed. I'll just pray for martial law. Lord build us walls around our factory homes. Xenophobic comfort when we're alone. Your own private army of racist thugs. Isolated members of a paranoid club.

"Industry"
(I can see all the lights of our industry and I've got a warm feeling they're giving to me. Thank you for all the things you sell. I've seen every one and I wish you well. So you're an executive? What do you make? What food is produced? What bread do you bake? We make nothing for no one and nobody cares. We've made whole economies out of thin air. There'd be something to live on if somebody cared. Still nothing for no one since nobody cares. There's a contract proposal. A building torn down. Talk about the jobs it'll bring to town. Are you making good or just employed? Is this the only life you enjoy? You can spin more wheels and still stand still. You want to do nothing and probably will.)

"Santa Collector"
(There's a woman living down in San Jose. She's watching her life as it slips away. Once she thought she wanted more than a mortgage and a shopping list. There's a hole in her life where there was ambition. There's a hole in her life and she needs diversion. She fills all the holes with Santa figurines. Santa teapot holders and Santa Claus dreams. All you ever do is watch t.v. Santa collector, what do you see? Are you still turned to QVC? Would you ever think of calling me? She cleans off the Santas every day but they will never keep her problems away. The only thing left to express herself is a thousand plastic Santas on a dusty shelf. There's a fine line between hobby and obsession and you've nothing left to say at your PTA session. You want to be quirky but you're deranged. That's not normal, it's insane.)

"skit 2"
[You did something totally illegal; breaking and entering. And robbery.]

"Telling Tupelo To Poop On The Mango Bar"
(Same old party. Same old crowd. But you hear a crash that's a little too loud. First to the door to greet the new guests. It's a dozen policemen on your steps. Your neighbors watch your every move. Between that and t.v. there's nothin' to do. If they came to take you away one night do you really think your neighbors would even blink? Your neighbors are gonna turn you in! So you have a few friends from a different race and you keep odd hours and stay out late. They'd rather see you in jail than know your name. Weirdo, criminals, it's all the same. The perfect militia, the perfect police. Got more informants than the soviet state. If we weren't such strangers than we might not have to have so many police.)

"Beer and Goggles"
(For a start let's set things straight. The corporations you love to hate. It's been too easy to train you well. The money keeps on rolling in. You're so punk and still they win. The companies are smarter still. And all those ads, that sexist shit, it makes me tired and sick of it. And money flows from you to them. Now let's take nicotine; sold with the image of rebel teens. You'll be part of a secret club but part of the secret they forgot to tell. There's a million others in as well. They've all been suckered just like you. Money's all this thing's about, not independence or standing out. You get sick and they get rich. If you think you're rebelling I've got news. The companies aren't about to lose a single cent from what you do.)

"skit 3"
{high heels walking on cement}

"Catapillar Ice Cream"
(She's got hard shoes, they go clip clop clip clop. Everywhere she goes they go clip clop clip clop. I can hear her walking going clip clop clip clop. I can hear her running going clip clop clip clop. I have to run wherever I go. I'd like to walk but I walk to slow. Twice as fast to get half as far. It'll be just my luck to be hit by a car. Blood stains, speed kills. Fast cars, hard shoes. Her plaid suit still clips and binds like hard shoes and children left behind. She looks professional every day. Her feet are killing. She can't run away.)

"Smurfing and Spying"
(Forget the suits. Forget the ties. I work the job I do in any disguise. Can't trust the people that I meet. A password and a glance in a dead end street. Take the fire exit to the second floor. I've got to get the files behind that door. At the Embassy party I work the guests, picking every pocket till there's nothing left. On a foreign park bench I spend the night waiting for the man who'll ask for a light. I switch my passport and I'm on the plane. Destination: nowhere to stop. My room is bugged. Someone's tapped my phone. i keep my head down when I leave my home. What I do is secret but I'm not alone.)

"skit 4"
[Hi, um, this message if for Ernst. Um, this is Sandy. You met me on Saturday. And, um, this is, like, totally irrelevant to band stuff. But, um, I was just wondering, um, what kind of hair bleach do you use because your hair is really white and I have to bleach my hair again and I want to use what you use because I want really white hair.]

"Rock Stars"
(It's not rock stars who make rock stars. It's the kids who think they're better than they are. Does it mean I think? Does it mean I'm smart? If I'm in a band and can play guitar? When you drop a name do you know what you've said? You're saying that they're famous, that they're over your head. This is just a band. This is just a song. I thought it could mean something but I could be wrong. In all the zines and interviews you'd better be careful with the words you choose. It's not just the kids who make rock stars. It's the bands who think they're better than they are. They believe the kids who make rock stars and won't acknowledge you unless they know who you are.)

"skit 5"
[Give Ron back his cat. I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna take my Glock and put a bullet right between your eyes. I know where you live. Give it back. It's not your cat. It's wrong. Give it back to Ron. Remember, I'll track you down and shoot you right between the eyes with my Glock.]

"Property"
(The night had been bad but the johns had been worse. The one that just beat her surely wasn't the first. So she shot him six times with the gun in her purse. She won't live her life in fear anymore. He'd cut her with a knife and left her still on the floor. He thought he was fine. She was just his whore. The judge thought the same. He locked her away. As he read the sentence he had this to say, "You're not pulling your weight with the taxes I pay." You're property. You belong to me. I can do with you whatever I please. You're property. You belong to me. I'll never understand why you want to be free. You're property. You belong to me. But worth a lot less than a car to me. Ali worked the counter at the liquor store. Helped to keep the people drunk. Helped to keep them poor. Sold them a little so they'd always need more. He shot three robbers at three different times for as little as a quarrel over the price of wine. Nothing like a gun to keep consumers in line. For this he got a medal from the city police and the local landlord just extended his lease. He does whatever the fuck he pleases. You're property. You belong to me. I can do with you whatever I please. You're property. You belong to me. I'll never understand why you want to be free. You're property. You belong to me. But worth a lot less than a car to me.)

"The Battle Between the Crab Aliens and the Automatic Ski Slope"
(I saw the news on my t.v. Who's been feeding this shit to me? Talking heads say this is it but I guess it depends on where you sit. Errors, lies and miscalculations all across this so-called nation. I saw two pictures, now they're gone. I can't help thinking something's wrong. Leave the safety of your home. If you don't like the news, go make your own. All the stuff you've ever known and all the things that you've been shown are nothing. When you've made the news, you know the facts but things keep changing behind our backs. Such trust is placed in a well-dressed man reading a prompter as fast as he can. Did you ever wonder who made those prompts? Maybe there's no one there at all. If you trust what is on your t.v. you'll believe anything that you see.)

"Where You Are King"
(Eyes on the clock, you watch my lips, my fingers spreading them wide. Hands on your cock, thrusting your hips. You care less who am I. Making love to myself, myself, myself at the mercy of my undulations and I squeeze out another five. One minute forty of my trembling flesh and your imagination flies. I don't care who you are anymore. You're mine. You're mine. Your gaze drops down and follows the creamy curve of my things. Bending back into myself. Hands flowing over hips. Meeting flesh with glass you straighten your tie. I'm rolling over watching the time tick by. I'm just an image behind this thick screen and even though I have eyes, you turn me over like the page of your book. Break the binding. Open wide. I don't care who you are anymore. You're mine. You're mine. I drink your cum and spank myself. Spread my legs. Strip down to nothing. Ride you hard. You fuck. You fuck. You fuck me hard and then there's more. Eat my cunt and lick my ass. I'll take it longer than you can last. Making love to myself, I meet the reflection in the glass.)