Silicon Valley Modern Suicide

by NVS

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in 2005, NVS was:

(Tre) Tom Retter: guitar
Jordan Schwarz: guitar, bass*
Brian Oandasan; bass
Walter Campbell: vocals
Micah Turney: drums
Allen Schwartz: drums*
*tracks 3 & 8


released November 3, 2005



all rights reserved


NVS San Jose, California

Started in 1999, NVS is a high-energy rock band from San Jose with punk, metal, and ska overtones. NVS blends various influences together to create sounds and words encouraging thought and feeling while embodying the best aspects of late '80s/early '90s alternative rock. ... more

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Track Name: The Beast Within
Say goodbye to yet another smile
This living hell just doesn't seem worthwhile
I wish that I could pretend I knew
To feel the way that all the others seem to

Carrying this tremendous burden of hate
No one seems to sympathize or even relate
As time ticks slowly within my head
Pondering if I would be better off dead

And nothing is ever gonna change my mind
Damn wanting to annihilate human kind
Feel something that's scratching from within
Becoming, I bring to you the beast within

I never thought that it could be so hard
I slit my wrists with my student body card
Intolerable, yes, or so some people would say
But who are you to critique my actions, anyway?

You talk like a person but your shit don't stink
I don't need you telling me what and when to think
If God pulled the trigger, would it be right
As long as the deed was done out of sight?


I feel like nothing, becoming something
Something unlike human kind
I feel so lonely, want you to hold me
Hold me 'till the end of time


© 1999 Walter Campbell/NVS Music, all rights reserved.
Track Name: Savoring Grace
Don't you think you look so pretty in that dress?
Your parent's pride and joy in your very Sunday best
If they only knew my true intentions
To live out my fondest divine interventions
Don't you think I'd like a taste of your flesh?

Did you say that you're afraid and you'd tell?
And do you think I give a damn I've got no soul to sell
"Correcteth, delighteth, chastiseth"
Devour the children in siege and straightness
Did you know I'm taking you straight to hell?

I'm killing you with compassion
A post-mortem satisfaction
Atoned by self-mortification
Prophetic extravagations
Violating my urethra
To increase this morbid paraphilia
Old-fashioned religious zealots never seem to change

Please forgive me, Mrs. Budd, for what I've done
And please forgive me, Jeremiah, for what I have become
If you only knew how sweet a flavor
For every little boy and girl that I savor
But if it's any consolation, little Gracey died a virgin


Never seem to change, whoa-oh
They never seem to change

© 2003 Walter Campbell/NVS music, all rights reserved.
Track Name: Lament
My love for you is only matched by few
And as I take you to heart, it tears me apart
Your very taste another flavored grace
My only peace of mind found in unwilling eyes

As we lay uncomfortably numb within each other's arms
Going to break you in half but I mean you no harm

A method as kind as a bullet inside of a gun
Reaching out with a godless decline
Defaced and betrayed by the stereotype we portray
Sensibility withers away
My lament to you
My lament to you

The hate I feel is undoubtedly real
And as I resist the urge, you binge and you purge
A sense of freedom as one of us comes
The greatest joys of sex are found in excess

Disregarded, disillusioned, dormant to a grave
Nothing is enough in spite of everything you gave


Well, my wrists may be thick, it's true
But they're thin enough to cut right through
Permanently leave a mark upon your spotless record

And at my requiem, would you please make sure
That they don't try to censor my suicide letter
A testament to the ones who helped me pull the trigger

And the best I could do was the worst you could ever hope for
I said the best I could do was the worst you could ever hope for

I'm fucking cracking up
I'm fucking cracking up
I'm fucking cracking up, yeah

© 2005 Walter Campbell/NVS Music, all rights reserved.
Track Name: Dead Samaritans
Machine gun wielding martyrs and pseudo saviors bearing knives
Vowing retribution with no intention to survive
Carried through existence by such Samaritan desire
Kamikaze missions that indecision will inspire

My mind bends, flexing and perplexed
Never knowing what they're capable of next
My soul burns, wretched and inept
Never knowing their causes to go effect

Valued but declined
Concluded yet undefined
Flag of evolution made up of decagons and colored lines

Soldiers of misfortune slaughter for their country's creed
Casualties of war have no choice in what to believe
Ultraviolence bleeding from the television screens
While reporters do their best to capture images and screams


Savored but underscored
Forever yet nevermore
An Armageddon consisting of the human race we're fighting for


© 2004 Walter Campbell/NVS Music, all rights reserved.
Track Name: Subjects To Adversity
Every day I try and fail to understand
What makes the mainstream such a favored demand
For me, it's EQ versus IQ down at school
What gives you the right to distinguish what's cool?
Sometimes I think that I'm better off dead
But I can't let the majority pollute my head
I may not be the smartest man in the world
But I can sense the shallowness of an American girl

Stupid people with their stupid lives
Their words like plastic, jagged knives
A society conceived by television
An equally functioning stigmatism
I'm just not good enough to be part of this society
I'm just not cool enough to be part of your reality
I'm just not bad enough to be part of the notoriety
I'm just not high enough to be recovering sobriety

Why don't you turn me on like a seven-inch clit?
With your rehabilitation pins and promises to quit
I said, I've certainly had my fucking share
Of this nation's facades and death row welfare
I say, the preachers and all the prophets
They're all trying hard to fucking stop it
Something that we all cannot control
So get off it, man, and trade your badge back for your soul

So laugh up every laugh that's left
Get your embarrassment off my chest
Protect yourself while you still can
For I no longer fear any man
Disposable hatred found in vending machines
Recyclable soap opera botany queens
Turn off your headlights before you crash
Prostitute yourself for another piece of ass

Cum-sucking bigot, get off my back
I don't need therapy, I just need to relax
Coffee shop muzak plays within the walls
Echoing the hatred and the pick-up calls
Don't fuck with me, baby, 'cause I'll fuck right back
I haven't gone crazy, I was born like that
Short-haired, well-trimmed bitch in britches
Your makeup covers your sub-rosa stitches

You can try to run, but you won't get far
I can see through your eyes and the way that you are
I won't be a part of your manifestation
My forecast is ill for the next generation
Give me a reason to end this noise
Well, I suppose boys will be girls and girls will be boys
If you don't know the outcome of what's in store
Ask before you arm yourselves: just who are you fighting for?

© 1999 Walter Campbell/NVS Music, all rights reserved.
Track Name: Quiet Room
I've been placed inside your seclusion
I've been locked into another delusion
The walls, they close with every breath
Oh, how I wish for a merciful death

I reside inside an empty heaven
A solitary state of fantasy
Awake all day, twenty-four/seven
And it's nothing short of insanity

There's no way to make the chains release
These tracks I follow never seem to cease
I'm lost in a memory empty of thought
So I figure I'll give this isolation a shot


No, no, no, no…


No, no, no, no
No, no, no, no-o-o-o

Quiet room, silent doom, padded walls
Your cries echoing the empty halls
You cannot be saved, this is the end
The voices you hear your only friends

© 1999 Walter Campbell/NVS Music, all rights reserved.
Track Name: Machine Omen
Trapped inside of a cage of wires
Her circuits breaking all the time
Running on Duracell until she gets tired
And then she sees she is going blind

Her mind a terrible thing to waste
So intelligent that no man can comprehend her
Just make sure you don't get a taste
Or she'll frappe your mind inside a blender

Electro-techno, I don't understand
What makes you woman and what makes me man
I feel like a lesbian ready to break
You traded your organs for parts that are fake

Man made machine and machine made man
Who made who, it's hard to understand
Technology will be the downfall of man
Modernized coffins can be reused again

Computerized society eats us alive
Like a Silicon Valley modern suicide
Virtual sex breeds a mechanical device
Looks like a child but with a cheaper price

Version No. 4 isn't efficient anymore
Just bought it last week, but I gotta have more
Breast-feeding bottles nourish what we procreate
Let's revise our child before it's out-of-date

Nao vem que nao tem, motherfucker!

(In the words of Paul Cantor: “Forget about the government; television is already controlling our lives.”)

© 1999 Walter Campbell/NVS Music, all rights reserved.
Track Name: Patent
I think I know, therefore I am
Therefore I fail to understand
A recreational demand
I guess the joke's on me again

Show me an empty table
And an open mind
To deconstruct this label
Could I hope to find
A thought I ever could consider mine?

Everything I need to know I learn from drugs and television
Retro-active, reasons passive, shelved and sold with such precision
Creative juices squeezed, extracted
Preservatives selected, crafted
Pasteurized, sincerely packaged
Consumer satisfaction granted

My only purpose to inspire
The mooks and midriffs, thieves and liars
A preordained selfless desire
A brand new feedback loop required

Are we so fucking worthless
Or under such a spell
It takes a proof of purchase
To define ourselves

See and hear the laughing faces, cigarette smoke something sacred
Drunken state of self-importance, automated in accordance
Regurgitating their excesses
Opinionated and regressive
Patented and self-expressive
The irony goes undetected

So interested in what your insecurities crave
In order to better ourselves
A penny earned is from the dollar that keeps them enslaved
Which they misuse to express themselves

I do know I'm not the only one
To share the wealth and to extort
I do know I'm not the only one
To sell myself so very short

Are you ready to rock?
Freak out like a Frank Zappa riff
Pull out your crucifix
Put it up against your lips
And please make sure to tip
Your waitress

Give it two or three years
Everything will be dated
These sensational trends
Will have quietly faded
The paradigm's shifted
The familiar formal
Everything that was shocking
Now seems mundane and normal
There's a new brand of retro
To be rediscovered
While the old becomes vintage
The young copy others
When the damage is done
I finally understand
Incomprehensibly numb
But I don't know what I am

And that's what every generation has to say
About the way we view ourselves
The middle finger they continue to proudly display
To the world and to themselves

I do know I'm not the only one
To share the wealth and to extort
I do know I'm not the only one
To sell myself so very short

Batteries not included…peace of mind sold separately

© 2004 Walter Campbell/NVS Music, all rights reserved.