1. |
cats
04:44
|
|
||
the church, how she swells
brackets full of ticketholders ready for the lights
and the pews, they buckle under
just like the bishop's bed under the weight of deacons' wives
but she's a handsome prize
and he's a number rise
and a damned good hypnotic
your name, it is a banner
that flies over the most shameful things
like a garage full of guns and dirty magazines
brackish water and cauldrons of gasoline
race-consuming tongues and callow reveling
but you are somewhere in the corners of america
you try and sing your love just how it is
but i swear i'm gonna beat You to it
take that song, pervert it bit by bit
'cause you are just a sunday morning
you're a bullhorn in the street
you're a protest on the asphalt
politician on tv
you're a bell rung by the hour
a curse when we cut our feet
you're a five-word liar's chorus:
"you mean everything to me"
|
||||
2. |
greatham
00:40
|
|
||
3. |
cuckold
02:37
|
|
||
i abstain and they participate
and twenty years down the road it's all the same
'cause we'll both have houses, cars, and kids, and wives
though we bring up different things when reminiscing the good times
it is worth it
to stay so celibate
from all the suitors of my attentions
though i know they will make a cuckold of me
at least i can call it a party
though i'll end up crude and defenseless
though at least it's not friendless, right?
they learn to dance so well and i'm paralyzed
conserved to force a dirge that i swear, "it isn't mine"
though i know it's for safety's keeping i'm still safely alone
"aw come on, dad! that wisteria don't look so bad on their bones"
'cause in honesty
what really bothers me
has nothing to do with their best intentions
but more with secret desires all set afire
by the spark of inhibition's funeral pyres
and muscles best exercised without fences
like my strength's somehow endless, right?
daddy please, daddy please…
let me rumble in the wagon, get raked up with the leaves
daddy please, daddy please
just let me pick the party
daddy please, daddy please
i wanna grow cold with the bushes, stand still like the trees
i don't need your love, i just need them to love me
|
||||
4. |
drown around
02:58
|
|
||
how long are you gonna drown around
and peel off all your scabs
and take your stitches out?
how long?
you show off your loss of blood
but everybody's got that too
all running down our shins, no one can do a thing for you
how long, how long…
like a reckless child, rubbing dirt in his wounds
steps away from front doors
and cleaner hands, warmer hands to soothe
reeling back, peeling bandages again
but it all keeps coming off, like you forgot how to grow skin
and it when it does, it just sticks to the linen
so now you sleep by the creek
imagined meals within your cheeks
it's a blanket pile of leaves and a tin can
a tin can to your pride
but there's a stamp on your bones
it says that you have a home
and it's your brilliant own
|
||||
5. |
flannery
04:47
|
|
||
cigarettes and tarot cards and contraceptives
onto the olden barn-board all fall out
from the middle of a covert cache in a salesman's briefcase bible
abraham to the baptist all cut out
and its owner, he moves toward her
and i wish that i could be that honest
to look her in the eye and pull her leg right off
'cause i keep my virtue and my vice
confined in two separate lives
with which my conscience never coincides without my admission
cigarettes and tarot cards and contraceptives
onto the olden barnboard all fall out
from the middle of a covert cache in a salesman's briefcase bible
abraham to the baptist all cut out
and i wish that i could be that honest
to look her in the eye and pull her leg right off
'cause i keep my virtue and my vice
combined in one consummate lie
with which my conscience never seems to collide without conviction
seems we're just good country people with bad city hearts
we're just good country people with bad city hearts
white wool for our charm and a wolf's bite marks
good country people with bad city hearts
clean shirt for the the table with blood on our arms
we're just good country people with bad city hearts
white wool for our charm and a wolf's bite marks
good country people with bad city hearts
with bad city hearts, with bad city hearts...
|
||||
6. |
index on the oval
05:24
|
|
||
you took me on top of a mountain
a bald and treeless height
and urged me to take a photograph
against the marble sky
"set the peaks of the east in the distance,"
tired and old, weathered and wise
"and note the depth of field between
where the valleys rise and fall to take their dives"
it's neither far nor forever away
but hours, surely hours
and surely not today
so with index on the oval
and the sky trapped in the lens
the picture closed and the shutter snapped
and developed on my skin
a clear, discerning portrait
of what i haven't seen since then
the horizon lined with the outcrops' climb
that disappear when i begin to descend
and i must confess that sometimes
i roll down my sleeve
to cover up your nameprint
and enshroud my disbelief
but reverie approaches on evenings like this
and she pulls all my nerves out from in between my ribs
and she gnaws on their bodies but ends her love with a kiss
one second poignant as a thought, the next faint as a mist
and in the morning i wake up with dew on my skin.
|
Ozona Records San Antonio, Texas
2013-2016.
All music is available to stream but not download. You can download all releases from the respective artists' bandcamp page.
Streaming and Download help
If you like profanity [ep], you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp