I've broken down in public
I've bared my soul to a crowd
I've sat all night in the dim bar light
Drinking til I pass out
I've been thrown in a cell for fighting
I've lost every girl that I've loved
And I stole one or two that I already knew
Would never be crazy enough
See there's this darkness in my mind
I bet there's one or two of you here that know the kind
But there's something 'bout whisky and wine
Makes everything alright
With this tobacco
There's something 'bout whisky & wine
That's kinda like pouring a light
Over the shadows
It lifts the shackles
When the sun comes up in the morning
And you're still howling for a moon
And the end of the world is the end of a bottle
That always comes too soon
I got this beast in my mind howling all the time
I've got to kill it just to shut it up
Most nights he'll sit here and write about what it must be like
To fall in love
So if there's anybody here that don't wanna go home
Rest assured that you're not alone
Let's all get drunk as fools
Howl at the moon like a pack of wolves
There's a party at mine
I have both whisky and wine
Sunday, 8 November 2015
Catskill Mountain Nights
Before we left we had a party
A backyard barbecue
You were stood by the pool
Someone pushed you in
I think it was Ian
One of those Felice boys
I haven't seen them since
We went on tour
In that old Winnebago
Catskill Mountain nights
We climbed a cactus and dug a grave
I wore those boots
With the conchos
Them freezing desert nights
Scorpion fights
I backed the rookie
I haven't seen them since
We went on tour
In that old Winnebago
Catskill Mountain nights
Washing line, fishing line, moonshine on the shoreline
If you're lying I'll know, if I'm lying my mouth is open
Cheap thrills in the Catskills, pie was on the windowsill
Maybe it is still, here's to hoping
Catskill Mountain nights
A backyard barbecue
You were stood by the pool
Someone pushed you in
I think it was Ian
One of those Felice boys
I haven't seen them since
We went on tour
In that old Winnebago
Catskill Mountain nights
We climbed a cactus and dug a grave
I wore those boots
With the conchos
Them freezing desert nights
Scorpion fights
I backed the rookie
I haven't seen them since
We went on tour
In that old Winnebago
Catskill Mountain nights
Washing line, fishing line, moonshine on the shoreline
If you're lying I'll know, if I'm lying my mouth is open
Cheap thrills in the Catskills, pie was on the windowsill
Maybe it is still, here's to hoping
Catskill Mountain nights
Thursday, 29 October 2015
Rock-a-bye Daddy
Rock-a-bye Daddy on the treetop
When the Sun comes his body will rot
When the bough breaks his body will fall
Down will come Daddy, slipknot and all
Mama's been tilling through tears like she ain't gonna stop
But Baby's been crying 'cos he don't like the taste of the broth
Ain't nothing here gonna grow
No matter what seed she sews
So Mama's just taken the dirt and put it straight in the pot
Rock-a-bye Daddy on the treetop
When the Wind blows his body will rock
When the bough breaks his body will fall
Down will come Daddy, slipknot and all
No one's been out to the farm now since 2006
There's stories 'bout killings & ghosts that you hear from the kids
Then some newlyweds looking for land
Drove up to the farm with a man from the bank
To see on who owns it and turn that dirt into profits
Well the first thing they saw as they drove up the road to the farm
Was what's left of Daddy still dangling out on that arm
And a little Baby lay
Next to a chair on its side in the hay
And Mama was tied by her neck to the beams of the barn
Tuesday, 20 October 2015
An Angel's Birth
There was an old sound castle
Made of sand and gravel
That we built like an outlaw band
About a hitch-hiker rebel
Who should've won a medal
For killing that creep and sinking that van
You played that machine
And the way that it screamed
Was a blade that was made of wood
That could cut through steel
And make a hitch-hiker real
And I still ain't ever played it that good
If I could find
And share a piece of my mind
With that old timer they call Death
I'd give him a list
Of a thousand pieces of shit
That should've gone first but haven't gone yet
I'd rip him 'bout his job
Say he's been working too long
Take that scythe from him, show him I could do it better
I'd ride a pale horse howling
Like a mad dog dancing like a drunkard
With a new blade and a dead man's vendetta
For all this hurt
A man's death is an angel's birth
If there were words and I knew them
I would use them but I'm sorry I don't
So I'll keep you in mind
With music dark and feathers white
And a song about an angel made of beard of bone
Made of sand and gravel
That we built like an outlaw band
About a hitch-hiker rebel
Who should've won a medal
For killing that creep and sinking that van
You played that machine
And the way that it screamed
Was a blade that was made of wood
That could cut through steel
And make a hitch-hiker real
And I still ain't ever played it that good
If I could find
And share a piece of my mind
With that old timer they call Death
I'd give him a list
Of a thousand pieces of shit
That should've gone first but haven't gone yet
I'd rip him 'bout his job
Say he's been working too long
Take that scythe from him, show him I could do it better
I'd ride a pale horse howling
Like a mad dog dancing like a drunkard
With a new blade and a dead man's vendetta
For all this hurt
A man's death is an angel's birth
If there were words and I knew them
I would use them but I'm sorry I don't
So I'll keep you in mind
With music dark and feathers white
And a song about an angel made of beard of bone
Monday, 13 July 2015
15 Months After the Event
I heard them cops put three bullets in your back as you were running away
I heard the blood trail dried and you went into hiding with the money in a suitcase
I heard another version about how they had you in the cop car bleeding and caught
But by the time they got back to the station house the cuffs were empty and you were gone
I was already back at the safehouse when I saw your picture come up on the news
They had helicopters flying and search lights and dogs and guns out looking for you
Fifteen years of drinking beers and fighting in car parks outside of bars
Mustn't have done you that bad cos even if they had you for a little while now here you are
Ooh oh, my my
Look who it is
Curse my eyes
Ooh oh, look who it is
Sit down my man
I'll get us both a drink
Throwing crisp new hundred dollar bills at strippers from an almost empty suitcase
And Lacey said you're set up just south of the border making connections and lying in wait
This other guy told me you were in police protection so I took my time setting that guy straight
Ooh oh, my my
Look who it is
Curse my eyes
Ooh oh, if I ever saw death
Sit down my man
I'll roll you a cigarette
Sit down my man
Tell me all about it
Friday, 27 February 2015
Mother's Medicine
Your mother's got her medicine, but she's still got her temper
and neither mix well with vodka.
Her beatings are extra vicious if you remind her of your existence
so you been quiet since you were a toddler.
She likes to remind you, even though it's not true,
of how you drove your dad away;
How he could never love you, how no one could ever love you,
how you're her worst mistake.
taunts you with its happiness.
On the day that you turned twelve, the store would finally sell
you your own box of matches.
The flames would singe your arms, new blisters on old scars
and you didn't even screw your face.
The pain shot through your blood, still you'd do it again because
it's like some sort of escape.
Next birthday rolls around, you packed a bag and headed out
teary-eyed & teenage runaway.
You cut through the park, went down the thistle path
to the shorelines of the boat lake.
You were born in late november, so the water when you got there
was colder than an old grave
But the same way the matches left your mind distracted,
the water numbed the pain.
You went in to your waist and thought about being famous,
it was surely gonna come;
The teams of reporters filming across the waters,
interviewing everyone.
The pondweed round your legs, the heaviness of your dress
starts to pull you under.
With the water to your head you took your final breath
and thought about your mother;
You wished she could have loved you.
Labels:
Death,
Depression,
Kids,
Self-Harm,
Suicide,
Wild Women
Tuesday, 24 February 2015
Spring Streams
I was a boy that year that the circus came to town
with my knees grazed up and my shirt-tail sticking out
No stone-eyed, pebble-minded rockslide could beat me down
I was a Spring stream, running from a mountain
There was a lady on the steps of a red, wooden caravan
with hair on her face and tattoos on her hands
I said I'd feed her snake, pick her heather, big her act
if she'd take me from this love-forsaken land
She said, "You're like a Spring stream, running down from a mountain,
Like a good dream I don't want to wake up from"
And her heart beat through those words like a poem
When she said to me, "Come, run away with the circus"
I worked as hard as the horses and I slept under the hay
or in the cages with the lions and the tigers on the nights when it rained
The mornings were the thunder to them lightnin' nighted circus days,
all us storm-cloud-outcasts, the ghosts and the clowns and the strays
There was a dirty blond girl we came across one morning
with lightning-bolt-blue eyes and desert skin
She'd outdone the Devil for that face and a lifetime of whoring
and cashed in on the sins of God's settled gentlemen
She was like a Spring stream running down from a mountain
Like a good dream I didn't want to wake up from
And my heart beat harder than a hammer
When she said to me, "Lets run away from the circus!"
I said, "This is the best of the lives I've known,
and I won't ever call a mountain home"
She said, "There's prairies and there's deserts and there's meadows and there's plains
You and me are rivers raging with the rain
And I can feel another storm coming in,
So let's fly too close to the Sun, let it burn our skin!"
She said, "I'll peel your blisters and kiss your bleeding flesh!"
She screamed, "I'll peel your blisters and kiss your bleeding flesh!"
I laughed, "I'll kiss YOUR blisters and choke you half to death!"
We called it love
and then we high-tailed it out of that tent!
We were like a Spring stream running down from a mountain
Like a good dream we didn't wanna wake up from
And our hearts beat through those fields in perfect rhythm
For a while
with my knees grazed up and my shirt-tail sticking out
No stone-eyed, pebble-minded rockslide could beat me down
I was a Spring stream, running from a mountain
There was a lady on the steps of a red, wooden caravan
with hair on her face and tattoos on her hands
I said I'd feed her snake, pick her heather, big her act
if she'd take me from this love-forsaken land
She said, "You're like a Spring stream, running down from a mountain,
Like a good dream I don't want to wake up from"
And her heart beat through those words like a poem
When she said to me, "Come, run away with the circus"
I worked as hard as the horses and I slept under the hay
or in the cages with the lions and the tigers on the nights when it rained
The mornings were the thunder to them lightnin' nighted circus days,
all us storm-cloud-outcasts, the ghosts and the clowns and the strays
There was a dirty blond girl we came across one morning
with lightning-bolt-blue eyes and desert skin
She'd outdone the Devil for that face and a lifetime of whoring
and cashed in on the sins of God's settled gentlemen
She was like a Spring stream running down from a mountain
Like a good dream I didn't want to wake up from
And my heart beat harder than a hammer
When she said to me, "Lets run away from the circus!"
I said, "This is the best of the lives I've known,
and I won't ever call a mountain home"
She said, "There's prairies and there's deserts and there's meadows and there's plains
You and me are rivers raging with the rain
And I can feel another storm coming in,
So let's fly too close to the Sun, let it burn our skin!"
She said, "I'll peel your blisters and kiss your bleeding flesh!"
She screamed, "I'll peel your blisters and kiss your bleeding flesh!"
I laughed, "I'll kiss YOUR blisters and choke you half to death!"
We called it love
and then we high-tailed it out of that tent!
We were like a Spring stream running down from a mountain
Like a good dream we didn't wanna wake up from
And our hearts beat through those fields in perfect rhythm
For a while
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