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Current Pretender

by Human Yo-Yo

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Oatmeal 02:02
Maybe I'll look for something else, but you're still here. I'll write a book to read and tell your story here, And you'll see, Quite clearly Where I'm coming from. The outside minds are bringing me down; Troubled thoughts and childish hearts. I have found Open doors To torrential downpours— I want some.
Run, Babble, find my suitcase, don't be a hassle, while I'm waxing. Be fun, Mammal, why are you home still? Gorda fell through the hill, and Tuna's laughing. Abel and Fiona were dancing under snow When the cotton in the road confused their moves. My father says he's in love, but he makes stories up so he can eat in peace. Senor, your son is absurd wearing mustard. I believe I ruined the feast. No one sang like Fiona— When the weather stopped the dance, Fiona cupped her hands and began to woo. A message to the rest of her friends let them know she wants to be a seal. Nomenclature understands the picture that they're after. The camera produced butterflies from both sides. We don't know her face living by the flashlight. "Look commanding while using your shepard-eyes. Oh, Rula, where did they put my dandelions?" "On the counter, behind the toaster." "You'll understand me more as we get older." This camera has butterflies On both sides. This camera has butterflies On both sides. Butterflies, On both sides. [ONCE AGAIN]
I wanted to wake you up; You should've seen the trouble I had. Can we compare our months? Or is that obscene and unlike the stars? Polish your cross and your charms, The rain has made a yellow feast of outside. A sample of what can be done When from hideous zen you want to hide. Beckon romance with your right, Handle your stance with a knife. Cool, entertain us, my son hopes to join the fight. It's on his back, an urge to push the flag. Magic carpet, half-mast, On the days of losing last.
Mrs. Frown 02:20
Flock to the kitchen You textile artists Of children's wardrobes. Handkerchief on the lap of the host Eating raw fish With rice on his lips. I find that no one is concerned enough with the decor. The rabbits are patterned ringlike on silvery mauve. I'm intrigued in physically Banishing inspirations In the form of acronyms. No one knows my arms, No one knows my heart Or my humor; I don't let them start. I am the owner of things that are more than just things. I'm nowhere close enough to my own privacy.
Good luck, I still love you (your personal space)— Found you painting a hound Behind a serial crowd Because the sea was getting loud. Emptiness does to roads What silence does to rooms, It's a hospitable wormhole Did you tell? Already have. Is this just the circus of my mind? Bevel read, please, the trails of the hill to me. City of chutes, tell all the artists they can leave. Megaphone conversation, "Look, we're interesting," but The hero to the south is now reclining with history.
I met a girl who looks at me like a lizard. Bethlehem awaits her to weave her hands for scripture. Olive branch, all you carry reasons with the sky. Fall into my arms, my mary, we're temples you and I.
I Mime 01:56
I'm glad you're here, you make me blush, it's been a civil year. The maple dress you made would fit pleasant for today. I'm homesick in August. I pushed my friends away; A spill of child's play, a mix of mud and marmalade. I'm not pointing at you; I just want some good news. Above the town, I see a ghost, A yellow-brick church, and people perching low. Funny feeling, I can't recall, my first magic trick in the hall. Home is now, home was then, home is still, but where's the event? I'm not pointing at you; I just want some good news.
Tiled Fence 01:05
I wish not to be king, A seminal android speaking for my family. We were born with wings, But given names from the ash that we can't carry. Absolute absentee, Your bed is made, but the people see you're crouching. Treating herds like bees, While people put their gaze into your expounding. There's gold if you want to leave me, I'm at the long foothills of being old.
Vacuum Waltz 01:10
Appliance to the bedbook, Parents have a redlook, Entertain the stemlook. Solstice paired With squares Of bitblue. Invite me Marathon of Dragontoons.
This will be the last time we let you win. He agreed, then held his hands over his stomach. We talked about racing there; It's for gold, Alex needs new clothes. He watched the trails, the gliding of wheels, The routes they took, his uneven heels, never behind her. My youth is a gift to the past, Not the booming iconoclast. Playgrounds and coins, gambling each other's toys.
If you last, night, Then you can keep mine— Channel neutral. Did I hear that right? My ears (shield) ha(ve)s appetite, You can't abuse the bones. There's a mood in Latin, It's described what's happened: Philosophy is fashion. Are your facts right? Did you ask high? Maybe Astor can use his nose.
I feel simple asking, 'What's left of your body?' Exclamation shape, What thoughts do you separate? Hear the county seagulls; Sirens of the beach smell. The questions on my back Are painful to have.
Watt Obscure 01:10
The last time I called, I went to pick you up. We have yet to try and make bread. I'll bring back Grey Gardens, I swear.
I would do it on my own, if I had enough to say, but, Yelling "speech" to myself isn't working today. If I employ the bed and think of my chores, I think of my friends and ask which I like more. There's a motionless urge to liberate All the girls I've loved from pester days A masterpiece is due from the children who knew ONly vanishing games. Be fearless now. The exposure: trace it with wants. Say more western child, So earthlike in your best attire. Say more if you can. No one's jealous of The satisfied look you get when you're right Or the success you might've made, or your sacrifice. Might I recommend a cardinal in your life, will you defy? Volunteer to be sincere, Social prince and occasional fits, Roasting match and informative hats, Around the table with Fiona and Abel.
Feeling baptized: you were saved for me. Quiet fanatic, listener sky, I heard the corpus is a surprise.
Ochsners 01:03
Version of spoiled you Had trouble with seeing through Counting to ten without looking. The meeting of tanning skin, Newfound hobbies begin, While seeking you get lost, Your visions begged to be drawn. Hand on the paper fin, A crude note, I stapled it, And lost it in the sink, The letters taken by bleach Are relieved, They won't be seen. Olly this way to be free: This is not a drill, They found a way into the hill.
To the Last 02:57
The beauty I'd been surrounded by Began to peel from its length of lies; One more hug first. Fearing that I'm a trivial time, I painted my neck and covered my eyes; Was this your curse? How did you know it would work? My time is spent reaching For what you think you're keeping. The oats you wear. Patchouli eyes and a marble nail Noticed a song coming from the sails; Thank you, reflection. In the barrels of my body, I feel Whatever's in the air has lost its appeal, But continues seconds after the lesson. Carnivore kin let the harm begin; The story is your shoe traded in for gin, but Balance comes third. Yes, it could be worse. Do you see it? Villains, we grew up to need them.
If I made the mistake Of speaking too late You'd know it was To nauseate the awkward look. Traffic's on its way Acting on delay, With clues under kites Noting the moments you were shook. Catapult, here's your cult; Satellite, here's your twine; Beast, out there, you're complete.
Madam Day 02:39
Oh, Sister, where have you been? Do you know how I miss our conversations? It's why I'd like you to come on home. Sister, I know you complain. But do you see what is done to rearrange the walls? They know best that we're not speechless. I can't go on; I'll go on. I can't go on; I'll go on. I can't keep—go on; we must go on. I can't go on; I'll go on. I can't go on; we must go on. I can't go on, now go on. I can't go on; we must go on.
Motor taps in the road, Tunnel wind makes it whistle; Out blew his hat, his family knows, They’re the ones who made him simple. The accident followed the kid And thoughts around who might’ve found it Until now a family wraith Who, in their life, had loved to crochet.


A “pretender” is a person who claims or aspires to a position, typically a throne. This collection came out of a sort of limbo in my life and these songs are meant to fill some gaps in the stories that my other projects tell.


released September 22, 2019

All songs were written, recorded, and mixed by Samuel Sandoval
Mastered by Blind Moose Studios
Artwork by Anna Neville


all rights reserved



Human Yo-Yo Los Angeles, California

Human Yo-Yo writes experimental folk songs that float on humble electronics, scattered drums, and anxious melodies. With this established sound, Yo-Yo fills in the gaps with lyrics exploring personal experiences and a love of words.

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