Misbegotten Candy

by Pandora's Toybox

supported by
Nicolas RESSOT
Nicolas RESSOT thumbnail
Nicolas RESSOT Paroles mises à part, on se situe musicalement dans la lignée de Nightmare revisited, avec des petits diablotins, des monstres un peu patauds, des zombies végétariens, etc. un véritable Jack-in-the-box ! Réjouissant ! Favorite track: Slaves to the Sleigh.
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about

The first EP from Pandora's Toybox, this release tells of such wholesome subject matters like abortion, bastard children, zombie slavery, and whores.

credits

released August 2, 2011

All songs written by Joshua Carrig

Produced by Benjamin Jon at Stillwork Studios in Holyoke, Massachusetts

Lead vocals - Morte McAdaver (Joshua Carrig)

Female vocals - Morgue Anne and Doll (Bonnie Miller)

Lead vocals on Brothel - Doll

Harsh vocals on Misbegotten Candy - Lilith Astaroth

Harsh vocals on Slaves to the Sleigh - Casey Jones and Lilith Astaroth

All guitars - Morte McAdaver

Additional bass - BJ Leperson (Benjamin Jon)

Misbegotten Candy guitar solo - BJ Leperson

Down in the Mire guitar solos - Pontius McRotten (David Hawkins)

Brothel guitar solos - Pontius McRotten and Morte McAdaver

Keyboard - Morte McAdaver

Drums - Thaddeus Podonkowitz (Wes Borque)

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Pandora's Toybox Northampton, Massachusetts

We're a zany, Cynical Circus crew from the shadowy carnival theme park known as Pandora's Toybox. We're here to expose the world for the bleak circus that it truly is.

contact / help

Contact Pandora's Toybox

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Track Name: Misbegotten Candy
Just because you could never be
What you really wanted to be
You need a cock full of seeds
To plant your candy apple tree

But don’t be looking my way
With your modus operandi
Your merchandise is overpriced
And I don’t need your Misbegotten Candy.

It’s an incubator’s right
To sire parasites
To steal away your life
For one night of sweet delight…

Malaise, cancer in your box
Inveigles them like gummy drops
Fellatio and lollipops
Heart as black as licorice.

Crippled by your candy cane
Sugar coursing through your veins
(Your) frosting driving them insane
Waiting for your liquored kiss.

We’ve every right to be malicious, can’t you see?
’Cause we hold every piece of delicious, dirty treats.
So don’t you be suspicious, afraid or superstitious
When we come for you!

One by one, they are all inseminated
Always breeding constantly in a bleeding eternity
Spawning little bundles of blood to be disseminated
The perpetuation of the masses is a contagious maternity.

In a world replete with fertility
The twisted whisper of vivid vivisectomies
Misbegotten, innocence forgotten…
“We’re everywhere…”
Breeding the new disease!

It’s a sweet tooth, uncouth society
No other candy store contains such variety
But it’s all the same, every luscious little dame
Is a glutton for the fuckin’ that will never know satiety!
Track Name: Sir Reberal Kortex
With the apotheosis of technology
A whole new era of terror has come alive to haunt our dreams
Tyranny, spyware networks poised to scrutinize
Keylogged without mercy; no escape from the electric eyes!

Hacking through the firewalls like a battleaxe in the night
Downloading porn and information by way of secret satellite
In a subterranean basement lair, he sits by monitor light
A new champion has now logged in to save the world tonight!

Gaze into the webcam screen and you will see
A cyberspace crusader, a haxx0r prodigy!
Fingers on the keyboard with Hot Pockets close at hand
Sir Reberal Kortex has arrived to take command!
Here he comes now, the hero of a modern breed
Blessed with ingenuity to end your crooked creed!
Drawing ladies far and wide with web-space weaving skills
Their eyes light up with primal lust when his cursor moves in for the kill!

He’s always there for us
He is the one we love and trust
He knows the codes, he sets the mode
He blocks the junk – our cyber-hunk
Performing system checks – Sir Reberal Kortex!

You’ve seen him in the comic books
On podcasts and T.V.
He’s got nanobots running through his blood
The perfect anatomy!
Lesser nerds bow down before
The Master of the inter-tubes!
He doesn’t even need to leave the house
To lay the smack-down on the n00bs!
On top of the tabletops
Like Mutants & Masterminds
You better not fuck with the man when he says
”THE POWER IS MINE!!!”
He’s rolling the dice and he’s got a vice:
The salvation of the digital universe!
Interface from a basement space
May his enemies be forever cursed!

”I AM INTERFACE!!!”

He's always there for me
He sends his file transfer love for free
The MP3s and DVDs; it’s like an online shopping spree!
Having chatroom sex – Sir Reberal Kortex!
Track Name: Down in the Mire
In the name of efficiency
Darkness in the hearts of middlemen
To be alive is a deficiency
If you worked here, you would understand.

Paperwork and apathy
Just too many damn mouths to feed
Management and bureaucracy
Everybody’s got their complaints and needs…

Mr. Meyer has found the way
Necrotic despots earned his signature
A policy designed to earn the pay
It’s in our nature.

That unnatural cycle – the dead come to work
Monotonous lives without meaning
Destinies hijacked without benefits or perks
No more distracting futures or useless daydreaming…

Mr. Meyer keeps us working away
We ain’t never gonna see the light of day
The higher-ups say “the dead deserve no pay!”
We down in the Mire.

He just sits around in his office room
Collecting profit from the working man’s collective doom
A skeleton crew, never to be exhumed
We down in the Mire.

A Mortuary quite contrary
City maintenance holds the keys
The waste of the world we’re bound to bury
In paychecks and salaries…

And so he signed the documents
To prove his complicity
Shoveled out the excrement
Fodder for necromancy.

Spade’s edge driven through their heads
There’s no source of labor like the walking dead
No complaints, no appetites to be fed
No time off, and no words to be said.

Made so much headway in the sewers and streets
No, this ain’t no break; no, it’s never a break.
Mr. Meyer – he likes to keep it discrete
Down in the Mire – where the corpses stay awake.
Track Name: Brothel
La la la.

We anticipate your needs…
Lascivious thrills for reasonable fees
Vendors in the flesh trade
Courtesans and fetish maids
Come join us at the Brothel for a while…

We’re pretty enough to pay for
‘Cause we are the ones who bear the holes
So ravage away and remain unaware
Of who’s really in control…

We live to serve…
At the mercy of every lecher and perv
Leave your dignity at the door
No need to be ashamed of your needs anymore.

La la la.

Inscribe our bodies with scars
Color our skin with bruises
Bring our corpses home with you
We’re the gender of a thousand uses.

All dressed up for you…
Here to relieve your loins of the blues
Critics all swoon for the concubines
Ballet heels pirouette across the spine

We’re pretty enough to die for
(Because) / (Of course) we just don’t care anymore
Versatile harlots and virtual dreams
The virtuous life is a chore.

Please take me out to play...
Advertise us with songs
Gaze upon us from the Web
Pass judgment through the photographs
To keep this disparity fed.

It’s all about profit, it’s all about ploy
Born to be commodities; we exist to be toys
It’s all about objects, it’s all become abject

We’re the curvaceous oddities; yours to reject.

We’ll kiss with passion just to make you hard
Cloying with the sugar daddies to reap the rewards
The brothel calls out to fiends of all kinds
To live out their fantasies – ‘cause we’re paid to pay no mind.
Track Name: Slaves to the Sleigh
Business, business, all life short
We work to provide for the ones we failed to abort
Happiness? Adults know nothing of the sort
Yet we allow brats to cavort.

Oh, poor little grown-ups, hung by a thread
On a hotel ceiling, or awake with the dead
The carefree kids celebrate instead
And dance their way to oblivion's bed...

The children shape effigies in the snow
And speak of a future that they'll never know
Ebullient eyes, bright and unafraid
Will despair when the snowmen are melting away...

Melting away...
Melting away to their dismay...

Sickness, sickness, trouble and pox
Sylvan midgets in storm-worn workshops
Crimson hue on the toys in the box
And edible coins from a fat man's socks.

Oh, come heavy winter, come to a crawl
Pretend it's fun when the snowflakes fall
The fireplace fades to a simmering pall
And the little ones learn to manipulate dolls.

The children spread their wings in the snow
Stormstruck cherubs on wings of sorrow
Mittens shape frost like lumps of clay
That will scorch in the sun and fall to decay

Fall to decay...
Fall to decay and fade to gray...

Xmas lights are the bondage cords
Gift wrapped dollies for the gibbering hordes
Plastic dreams for the lost and ignored
All slaves to the sleigh, come climb aboard!

It's Xmas time in the circus for the living
Nobody has the time for love or forgiving
A smile on the face for the same old thing
Choirs filled with heirs sing to the dead shells, shivering...

Let's wrap this up!
(With) Cash for the merchandise
Cash for the little tykes
Cracks in the core of a frozen paradise!