Post​-​Pubescent Songs

by Rael Jones

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A Smattering of Songs Written and Performed by Rael Jones in 2002-2005


released November 11, 2011

All Instruments, Vocals, Recording and Mixing - Rael Jones

Goosebumps Recording and Mixing - Chris Winfield
Are You Satisfied - Mixed by Keir Milligan
Swan Song - Recording by Dave Moore

Thanks to Ben Wren and John Barrett for working with me on some of the recording sessions too.



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Rael Jones London, UK

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Track Name: Are You Satisfied?
Left: swipe in e-mail in trays out trays phone ringing good morning finance scheduling a fag break spreadsheet management with a meaningless conversation photocopying

Right: swipe in start up kettle on consultation filing archive another cup for concentration fag break backache co- ordinate administration call up back up databases marketing

Centre: Stuck in the comfortable,
a means to an end makes ends meet,
the same old same old,
and you’re growing old indifferently.
Even after you promised to stand in front of the mirror each morning and ask yourself…

Are you satisfied? Do you derive any Satisfaction?

Boss: So, Christopher, this is your 4th year with us now? Hmm. I must say, you have a pretty impressive looking file, with exemplary performance in the areas of stapling and personal hygiene. Perhaps there is some room for improvement in your etiquette however. Several of your colleagues have reported instances of social ineptitude on your part, including a particularly unpleasant incident with a coffee urn. Despite this, we are delighted to announce a rise in your salary, by 0.8 of a percent. This concludes your end of year report. Do you have any questions?

Are you satisfied?

What’s the beef bitch? Cat got your tongue?

Do as they did before you.
This constitutes progress.
Be proud to be that middle man!
Super hero 9 to 5.

Track Name: Goosebumps
I don’t want to let you know.
Stress won’t make my feelings show.
Clean yourself here in the snow.
Rub me until my Goosebumps go.

Birds whose names I’ll never know.
‘cause I walk to fast, and I eat to slow.
Wonder why the teardrops cease to flow?
It’s ‘cause you rub me until my Goosebumps go.

I am possessed, I am possessed, I am.
Track Name: 3001
Give up the trials,
and give up the weight.
Don’t take such time,
and waste it all on waiting.

Leave this flesh behind; be light.

Don’t strive for your shallow joy and except the pain,
always blinded by emotion.

Over the threshold and passed the oh, so-so physical,
feeling discarded for a new un-jaded perception.
Track Name: Bullet Points
I am millstone, pure flour ground.
Far from alarm and traffic sounds.
Uncluttered by fleeting fads of the sprawl.
And I don’t care for them at all.

All the innocents they drive me to distraction -
self-elected blameless Gods of all.
Quick-fix, unelaborated, give me a summary,
just give me the Bullet Points.
So self-congratulated.

Well, we’ll burn in hell.
Track Name: Grams for Ounces
I am made to show my immaturity,
holding the door closed with your free hand,
I’m forced to run before I can walk, before I read the pamphlet,
school socks on gravel, holding my boots between stinking fingers.

Your sisters stop us playing Board Games.
It’s for the best I’m so much more than sure, sure I’m sure.
Sure I saw a saw point between us.
He must have to be the wettest guy I have ever known.
Above all else that is what I have been shown.

And in the East this night is falling;
couldn’t hold the light back no matter how hard it tried.
This day will change the next and so on tumbling after.
So I am at the mercy of what you decide.

Your sisters stopped us playing Board Games.
It’s for the best I’m so much more than sure, sure I’m sure.
Sure I saw a saw point between us.
He must have to be the wettest guy I have ever known.
Above all else that is what I have been shown.

I feel such a fool.
Myself I’ll cower into.
What exactly did you expect me to do?

Believed in the things that you asked for,
but it seems to me you just thought of yourself.
Even though I gave you my blessing before hand,
it’s still not like you to touch somebody else.

You touched somebody else.

And it seems to me that there isn’t the slightest
shred of remorse that I ought to have seen.
Am I such a chore, such a sad obligation?
Don’t tell me that you love me, like you know what that means.

‘Cos you measure out your love in lost grams and false ounces.