Caeto Moon's: Ellipsis

by Caeto Moon

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I am your purveyor of cheap thrills and decadent education,
hypnotic irony and grooving sensuality.
This is your father's condescension and your mother's adoration.

Big ups to Golf Radio for the shoutout! And thanks to August Wilson for describing the phenomenon of "emergence." I finally feel like I'm a part of something significant.

Peace, Love, Harmony, and other tired clichés...hope you enjoy the tunes.


released April 22, 2015



all rights reserved


Caeto Moon South Carolina

Synesthete by birth, musician by nature, Caeto Moon's been tasting the sounds he's been writing since before he was even calling himself Caeto---and well before he was howling to his surname at night. Riddled with odd time signatures, sexy chords, and undeniable grooves, he's more than capable of having you taste his sounds too. The question is: when are you going to listen? The answer is: now! ... more

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Track Name: Ellipsis
I'm a weird dude
with some weird tunes
Hearing this is like psychedelics down ear tubes.
Man, I'm tripped out.
No drugs.
But if I did sometimes,
then so what?
No fear. We're here. This here
is an inexplicable phenomenon. Is your armour on?
Well, take it off; we
should let it be.
I'll let you do you,
now let me do me.

I'll let you be you,
you should let me be...

Made you some music in the meantime
just so people can see I'm
the embodiment of music and I be rhyme.
I don't see time, I be mind-
ful of most scenes I see each day before my eyes---
histrionic, I tell lies,
but just what I spit
is so true---mundane if you grew up like we do:
over influenced by the TV's news and
covert renewance of their truth, and
what's true when you're truant of that schooling?
My scholastic elasticity
acts at times like passivity
when you're unused to the
chaos of my intra-mental activity.
My instrumental's facility's
greater than your silly beats---
these deep sounds are profound
and grounded in my hometown.
I'm homegrown and so proud of my city,
It's a pity that I'm wondering
if the world's ready for my wandering
How will you relate to this?
What I'm making is
the strangest kid's imagination in
the form of sounds so crafty you
thought it was a witch on this.
I'm sick of this.
Let me stop 'cause you've got
a whole record to listen to
Track Name: Time Out
And I'm a bit unusual,
surreal, and her feels;
focused on periphery and
agility of the tongue, and sonic creativity,
ignorant of parties
whose only interest in me is to be
some kind of black man, stereotypically---
'cause I know that isn't me.
People, just let me be.
I'm in a new cage (call me Caeto Free),
I'm thinking about Maya.
I'm thinking of Pokémon.
You hear me spitting fire,
but don't know I be on
Champloo, Mass Effect, Halo, Monopoly,
Ishiguro, Brown, Haley, and the Akatsuki.
Deep thinker, but sinking my eyes into cartoons
'cause reality shows are why it's known as the boob tube.
And you know advertisers deciding all of your content
to keep you fat and sedated, and keep you content.
But still you're dissatisfied.
Why not go out and buy
the latest greatest craze praised on the tele-stage?
We're phasing out of our lives.
Diving to higher lies.
Desire, e'er exciting provider of our sighs,
Is that you?

If I do it too much, it's probably a problem.
Or I'm not courageous enough, it's probably a problem.
Then it gets in my way. I need to stop it.
I'll wait till later; I'll be a moderator.

My hunger is slaked.
I could smile,
but I want more right now.
I should take a break,
just for a while,
to get my head on straight.

Try this: keep yourself occupied with things that are worthwhile.
Then when you have the time, you can rest for a while.
It's balance, a talent too many learn poorly---
going all out to sea, or fleeing home for shore leave.
I say, take trips, see different perspectives.
Don't get arrested in development.
And live the life you learn you love,
doing the job you work for fun. (Duh!)
Say I'm too simplex; but you need some context.
You're in a suplex, getting choked by Congress.
I keep it complex so lames don't contest.
And no test will best my conquest.
If you ain't learned nothing,
know this: I'm always in harmony,
others got no pitch.
I be on my curveball;
y'all on slow pitch
I know two curse rhymes,
but it ain't worth it.

Still rehearsing the same outplayed lines,
I'm thinking I'll drive by and drop these kids a line.
Try and show 'em to keep your mind right,
you gotta grind like
you know tomorrow's a no-show
because it is.

And the kids say:

"Keep it paused. Keep it paused.
Keep it paused. Keep it paused.
Keep it paused. Keep it paused
'cause we don't wanna play.

We won't play the game.
It's for someone older than we are!
Mature rating!
Life is for the sane."
Track Name: You Said
I remember the breezeway
where I first saw your face.
That's when I told you
I'd like to hold you in my arms.
How does that sound to you my darling?
You said---

So my steps are cautious.
You surround me like mosh pits,
knocking the wind out of my gut with your frostness.
I can't escape it. I love you, but hate when
I feel so real but swear you're at your fakest.
You gave me a kiss, but your passionless demeanour
is meaner than just saying no.
So this time, would you please make up your mind?

You said,
"Maybe...I'll give up my heart to you,
but not before you stop chasing me away.

I said,
"Give up...your heart to me.
Look how I have laid bare my soul for you. I'm on my knees.

I just want control.
I just want to feel whole.
I just love control.
I just hope you feel whole.
Track Name: Chop Chop
Your fragrance makes me adore your skin.
The way you breathe in keeps my body aching for you.
Would you stop my shaking?
I don't think that I can.
Please, would you hold me?
I want to be your man.
Lay me down, throw me around.
We can play rough.
I don't need the ground.
I just love your touch.

Touch. Touch. Touch me.
I'm your pup, pup, puppet.
Touch my strings. Pull my strings.
You can unravel my seams; just
touch. Touch. Touch me.
I'm your pup, pup, puppet.
I could be your everything,
just as soon as you pull on my strings.

I'm a real boy, I just play nice.
Don't wanna be a toy; I wanna entice
you, but all I do is be a fool.
When I talk words it's awkward, I'm not cool.
No lie, I could catch an eye
but I'm a too strange to do, date, or hang out kinda guy.
And I just said it; that means that I just set it.
So high esteem's a pipe dream. It seems that I
can't pull myself up out of the dirt
so I'll be dragged along while I blame you for my hurt.
Look at me. I'm way too weak.
Life passes by from days to weeks.
I wish that speech would leak out of my lips,
but my tongue's been muted since
I took a needle and got it up-stitched,
sewed in my hope and now it won't open 'cause
I'm too scared. Could you please grab the scissors, and

Cut. Cut. Cut me.
I'm a pup, pup, puppet.
Cut my strings, or chop my strings.
I'm just so tired of being your
pup, pup, puppet. Would you
cut, cut, cut me?
I could do anything
just soon as you cut off my strings.

Touch, cut, love me.
I'm a pup, pup, puppet.
Tug my strings or chop my strings!
Love me or get out my dreams. Please
touch, cut, love me.
I'm a sad, mad puppet.
And it seems it's just me
who's really in control of these damn strings.
Track Name: You Got A Problem?
My problem is
I'm too poetic,
prosodic in profession,
harmonic chord progressions.
I've got more to be stressing
than these words that I rip
like bitter winds do lips,
like Winterkin with whips.
Lighting hitter-ones and rip.
Little ripper sipping, soak in token oceans
Floating in frozen lakes,
choking on hot debates,
hoping that the first mistake
wasn't me tryna be great.

I wasn't tryna be great!
what I wanted was to beat the wai
'cause I couldn't escape.
Where I waited white was hate,
wanted to wipe us off their asses,
like brown sticking molasses.
That's why I'm taking classes
over by North Shore
where both drab and fantastic get snored
by snow so impassive.
But my folks poured
down the drain.
I don't know even know their names.
I'm bored on the El, and this piss smell
is really getting to me.
The getting is good: the gulls all a-gawking,
but cousin I'm caught caressing a Caucasian.

My baby ain't bad; she better than poison.
Swallow and swish whether wet or sword lick.
Of course it's a flick of the tongue.
Your boy spits from the tip of his lungs.
Drugs fun. Party done.
Love won.

This ain't Wimbledon!
I am not a simpleton,
neither are all of my brothers, sisters, and kin.
You cannot win.
You cannot win.
You cannot win.
Sin as a cultural idea is a spectacle.
Debord be proud of me: I got my lessons did.

My problem is
I'm too nice with it,
nice in the sens of playing dead for the vultures---
a culture so entrenched in conditioned
passive aggression, it's maddening.
But folks wanna use you,
when you slip, abuse you:
one o' six, in the glock or the box, waiting---
will they choose you?
Before then you will lose you;
you will lose yourself.
Track Name: On Rainbows
You know that sensation when every sense-making thing in your world
comes crashing down?
Those moments of clarity in knowing you're scared to be alive
even right now?
When raindrops stain tops of your cheeks,
And feigned hope is drained.
Mope it out a few more weeks.
Someday maybe we'll grow from it,
But right now we're too engulfed in it.

I know this girl---real nice friend.
Used to study and play N64 on the weekends.
Big smile, with a really silly laugh.
smart enough to know when she was slipping on her path.
Caught my eye in a breezeway like windy debris,
I was uncertain with my emotions for a month, maybe three.
I Couldn't tell the difference between love and lust,
So I decided to spend time. I wasn't in a rush.
I flip-flopped on popping the ask out.
But figured in the end that as friends we'd last out
longer than romance. Sorry, there's no chance.
Seems I just necromanced the whole damn relation. Can
I get a revoke?
But she won't answer the phone!
Alone, I search for tones emulating emotions like---.
Like that.

I got clouds in my eyes,
And rain falls down from the sky.
No umbrella to deflect it,
so rain fall is all that I see.

Wet puffs in my eyes,
And tears drip down while I sigh.
Nothing to do but let it go
And hope that someday it'll be a rainbow.

Clouds in my eyes!
Rain falls from the sky!
Nothing to do but let it go.
And hope that someday it'll be a rainbow.

You said yes, turned around said no.
Didn't want to hurt my feelings, but yo,
let me down don't pick me and throw me.
For a few days I didn't say a word---
thought that I should calm down, and you seemed perturbed.
Little did I know your car would swerve
if I drove near. Not sure why though, so I didn't give chase,
just hoping that space wouldn't make our friendship erase.

Except now I'm starting to guessing my persistence is
another expression of my obsession.
whether or not awareness was there,
it's clear to me I've long been a creep.
Even if you ain't notice, you smelled it in the air
and you're nose knows it.
I'm a flirty boy and you're a flirty girl---
there'd be no reason for thinking the other ever would unfurl this
kind of heightened desire for sinking deeper than friendship.
My hands grip like sand is all my nails eat,
and I can't pretend that this is my first beach.
It hurts me, but I always come back for water.
I'm thirsty, but I'm always sipping the ocean.
This potion, salt water, is potent.
I'm motioning that I'm choking, but you just think that I'm acting.
Caeto lacking in awesomeness?
That's just preposterous.

Nah, what is though is that I keep thinking the people I like the most could ever like me back.
Settling is skill so many people have but I ain't put in 10,000 hours yet: so it's practice I lack.
But shoot maybe it's all of these missed shots that'll show me where my true target is at.
So I'll keep blasting past the attraction, until I find traction that's worth that attachment.

Dark clouds in my eyes!
Rain falls down from the sky!

Rain clouds in my eyes,
and drops fall down from the sky.
Nothing to do, but let it go
and hope that someday it'll be a rainbow

Dark clouds in the sky,
and rain falls from the sky.
Nothing to do, but let them go.
I know by the end of the storm it'll be a rainbow.
Track Name: Chaotic Perfect
Where is the feeling?
What is this feeling?
What is my soul?
I'm still feeling---
I can't stop feeling
out of control.

May I borrow
your soul, your soul?
I think I know how your life goes.
We feel so alone on our own,
and we're still trying to find hope.

See the love in our hearts
is who we all truly are,
and yet we feel worlds apart,
but we know,

While many suns do yet shine,
chaos is perfect, divine.
There's no yours.
There's no mine.
There's only love and we're fine.
Track Name: To Live A Dream
Thursdays are not the worst day.
But verse-play is cursed when I ain't rehearsed it.
Like speaking the elephant's name when he's in the room.
Did you think it a shame smelling sweat without a perfume?
You say what you will. I'll say what you won't.
You say that you will, but you probably don't.
What's that, a loss for words?
Yeah, I heard of that....
My people had it first,
but now we murder rap.

John Keats had some real slick riddims,
but I'mma quit him if I can't hear him spit 'em.
Sit and spin on my tongue.
I got the nastiest one.
I got the flashiest puns:
panache, you passionless punks---
I'm bragging hazardly, huh?
But you're watching Brazzers to come.
I'm fusing Moon with the Son
like I was Goten and Trunks.
But you ain't heard of that---this that nerd rap.
You thought that anime was like Freddie Mac.
Well, you kinda right: they both a money trap.
And that's why I'm liable to pirate,
and only buy it if I tried it and liked it.
I might get all my things seized,
but that's just another reason to go overseas!

Please, you flatter me with chatterings:
"Why is he so weird?!
He needs to stop that!"
"Here, make him drink a beer;
turn the clock back."


We're taking selfies on our mobiles,
wearing diamonds, rubies, opals---
I'm tryna to get bedded up with a bad mate
Date? Huh? I can't hear what you're saying.
The sound is too loud, and that shot ought to be double.
Look, I don't want no drama, baby just let me in your bubble.
I got that tunnel scope
You got that tunnel scoop.
We're digging each other too.
We gone need a shovel to

Live the dream!
This time in youth may seem
so real, but leave here
and the stress'll make you scream.
Fuck it.
Live the dream!
Right now's the time to scream.
Get lit. Get stoked.
And hope that you get dough. Don't go broke.
Don't yoke or joke or choke your soul.
There's more to go. Live life until you don't
Live until you don't.

And I still got paper(s),
writing all night till the sunlight's bright.
And the wind's so cold
Everybody's shy in the Chi 'cause they're all froze.
But inside, there's still no eyes,
mouth moving on motors, but they're just lies.
Tryna hit your friends up? Get in line.
Just play with your phones y'all, we'll be all right.
No time for depressed, just stress.
You got the blues? Well, I got dues and a test,
interviews, getting dressed. Hitting snooze in the bed
Remember when we used to get rest?

Live the dream!
This time in youth may seem
so real, but leave here
and the stress'll make you scream.
Fuck it.
Live the dream!
Right now's the time to scream.
Get lit. Get stoked.
And hope that you get dough. Don't go broke.
Don't yoke or joke or choke your soul.
There's more to go. Live life until you don't
Live until you don't.
Track Name: Blank Eyes
Stepping on the beat,
wishing it could be,
but it's not Friday.
Walk to Japanese,
hoping it'll be
a mild day.
But as for hoping,
it's too late.

Spy out the window,
it's all white.
Playing Nintendo---
up all night.
And the next time you see my face,
you'll cower away.

Spy at your window,
I see light.
Playing pretend though---
I'm so blind.
And the next time I see your face,
I'll cower away.

(clapping solo)

Bitter chill,
but I'm still
trudging through the ice cold snow
to make you feel
But you're so frigid. Cold digits.
Only with it 'cause you really
tilt my head down low
like an ostrich,
hiding in the floor.
But you still don't like it,
or me.
Tell me how you're s'posed to be madder than me?
Better still,
Why do you matter to me?

'S weak!
I'm weak!
And I'm a creep.
My apologies.

So I sigh out the window,
"It's all right."
But I'm missing my friends---hope
they're all right.
And I never let a soul really know my plight,
from frosty dawn to polar night.

Let it go.
Let it go.
Let go.
Track Name: Carolinacated (ft. Kaylan)
Pop a Moddy in the morning, make my head right.
Open up my drawer, and then I head right
to my bottle of Addies, gotta get ahead, right?
Caffeine or cocaína, man I mean, I said, "right?"
Drugs in my right hand right to my head. Shit, I'm dead right.
Left head sped up to get the right side of head right.
And then I might just spray a ray out of my head, writing
the melodies of frequencies resonate with red light.

In spite of the night, media's might of shadow cast o'er a calm sunlight
showing me this anxiety,
they expect me to not get my nerves lit as high as the sky
could be the limit?
Shit, I ain't with it.
Committed to my hustle since I ended inner feuds.
That was when my ego submitted and god and I interfused.
I mean to choose the alternative would be suicide
and when you got options like this, bitch, you know I reside.

In my head...

Who dat they be talking bout?
Kaylan, no gameboy ballin out.
My pockets loud, my eyes low.
I've married Jane, so I'm living proud.
My shows to come to be dumb, dog.
Yo barbie throating dick, balls, and all.
I'm tatted, fit snapback straight matching,
Polo drawers nasty in Levi's, thrashing.
No flaws at all, boy dreaded up,
Sipping a cup, getting my dick sucked.
Like: "Bitch, you know me:"
My crew, we roll deep.
My hoes, they love me.
I love my hoes, it's lovely.
My pockets keep stacking.
Snapback, straight tatted"

Mary Jane, two swishers,
a couple bitches twisting with my niggas,
just chilling with no vision, no obligation,
just interest in making money in the cut, steady flipping it,
know them niggas on the block steady getting it.
Skateboard in hand, still bustin that 357,
living in heaven, blowing
hella blunts to my hair fucked up,
rich woman, I pussy eat. Price the lunch.
My baby mama that hood cunt.
Daddy black, don't give a fuck, no.
Don't miss the father, my mistress following.
Sipping a bottle, humping a model.
My eyes lowered, my hoes swallow.
I'm a product of my father.
A life of pimping and moving product.
Only kiss her feeling is sour.
My young niggas, yeah they 'bout it.
Plus, you know I hold a chopper.
And if a pussy got a problem,
reunite her with grandmama,
take his ashes, fertilize the marijuana.
Fuck yo problem!
Bad bitch booty collosal,
Boy I'm out ch'ere causing havoc:
Too Chaotic.