1. |
Felonies And Phone Calls
02:24
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At the nine o' clock hour after a cold steel shower an envelope slides beneath a cold steel door. I'm shitting, sick of shivering through my bones and breaking promises I've made a thousand times before. Well I'll call a couple times just to say that I tried, and then I'll sleep beneath the screams of the big TV. What is it I could say in a ten minute call that I couldn't say by saying nothing at all. You have ten minutes remaining for this call. Just what the fuck are you gonna say? You have ten minutes remaining for this call. We both know there's nothing left to say. Well I think an awful lot about the things that I'm not and it sinks right through the holes in my yellow arms. Better now instead of later in the city of Decatur and the screams and broken glass and blaring car alarms. I've been broke and black and borrowing from my heart for all the things that I need when my brain can't pay. Since I was sixteen I had a junkie's dream and it's kind of sort of prophecy to die this way. You have ten minutes remaining for this call. Just what the fuck are you gonna say? You have ten minutes remaining for this call. We both know there's nothing left to say. I've got a bottle full of buddies and an eight-legged friend. I've got a bottle full of buddies and an eight-legged friend. I've got The Doors in my head singing "this is the end". I've got a bottle full of buddies and an eight-legged friend. You have ten minutes remaining for this call. We both know there's nothing left to say.
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2. |
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In my mind I'd like to lie. I'd say that everyone is doing just fine. I'll see you at the show this Friday night. Everything is alright. You can get drunk, and I can get high, and we'll complain about the sound guy. To his family: I'm so sorry for your loss, but can't you see how much we've gained? All that he wanted was his blood in his beating heart. Just his blood and his beating heart. So crack a beer or a smile. I don't care which. Just please sit down and stay for a while, just one last time. In my mind you'll always be 29. I'm sorry if I get too fucking old to hang. To his family: I'm so sorry for your loss, but can't you see how much we've gained? All that he wanted was his blood in his beating heart. Just his blood and his beating heart. I'm gonna miss you, dude. Gonna miss you, dude. Goodbye.
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3. |
I Walked Home Alone
03:02
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When the revolution ended I walked home alone. I walked home alone. Now I'm not so sure what we were fighting for. What were we fighting for? It's all just a blur. It's kind of like the time that we drove home high and you jerked the wheel just to slap me. We were spinning 'round on the interstate as the cars passed by. I was loving the confusion. Never knew what I was doing, but I always wanted more. When we got home I fucked you against the bathroom wall. It was something to fight for. Something to die for. Something to make me scream "this is why I'm alive!". Something to fight for. Something to live for. Something to make me smile if I manage to grow old. When the revolution ended I walked home alone. I walked home alone. Someday I'll be a Buddhist Monk or maybe just a vegan punk. Someday I'll get a purple heart just for not shooting dope too much. I can meditate and I can just barely stay clean. I eat lots of fruit and soy and shit and it don't change anything. Because everyday is a fight and everyday is a fight and everyday is a fight these days. Everyday is a fight and everyday is a fight and everyday is a fucking fight these days.
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4. |
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Five years ago I was surely in a hurry. I was in a rush to throw her baby away. To her face I always lied just to hide my sick pride, and I practiced all the right things to say. I took the Amtrak line down 'New Orleans 59' I had cheap vodka and some time to think. My stop's the only home that I've ever known, and I'm never not alone when I drink. So I ran to the prairie, and I hid in the grass. Down an old deer trail I forgot my past. Then I followed the creek bed by the light of the moon. It twists and turns and leads straight to you. I swear that I've been here. I've been here before. So I tried to wait for something worth waiting for. It was all butterflies and blood in your hair. It was the opposite of car repair. I was working overtime just to keep us behind, and working even harder to pretend not to care. I had the soul of beer can and the mind of a dead man. The point of a needle and not the spark in your eye. I wished I could stay, but I just had to get away. I'd been gone since the day that he died. So I ran to the prairie, and I hid in the grass. Down an old deer trail I forgot my past. Then I followed the creek bed by the light of the moon. It twists and turns and leads straight to you. I swear that I've been here. I've been here before. So I tried to wait for something worth waiting for. We can move on. We can let it go. We can move on. We can let it go. So I ran to the prairie, and I walked through the snow. A comfort from cold that I could never let go. I swear that I've been here. I've been here before. So I try to wait for something worth waiting for.
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5. |
Another Run
02:06
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Woke up feeling like I was the only one with another run inside my bones. Just one more time for fun. I'll look the other way so I don't see myself slide right back down the same hill I climbed up just yesterday. Now another winter's warmed and now another motherfucking summer's gone cold. Am I getting better, brighter and bolder or am I just getting burnt out and bored and old? Back at intake in Chicago right along West Lake and Ashland empty stamp-bags line the gutter, and the people, they line the clinic. Here at home I'm barely breathing trying to follow what's misleading. Fleeting thoughts, hot spots, cold shots and a little rinsing and repeating. They said "get a job or just get lost" so now I'm lost. They said "get religion or you'll get lost" so now I'm lost. They said "follow the path or you'll get lost" so now I'm lost. Just keep moving. A rolling stone gathers no moss. Woke up feeling like I was the only one with another run inside my bones. Just one more time for fun. I'll look the other way so I don't see myself slide right back down the same hill I climbed up just yesterday.
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6. |
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Who can own a rock? Who can own a tree? We've gone from stardust to formality. The sanctity of your property, the shit you own, straight don't mean shit to me. I'm sorry I just ain't got time, on what's yours and mine, for me to waste a dime. Still you try. Try to take it with you when you die. If you think this world owes you a thing you're fucking wrong. If you think that I owe you anything you're fucking wrong. If you know the words then you should sing, you should sing along. If you think this world owes you a thing you're fucking wrong. What exactly keeps you staying here? If it's me or fear then be gone and be free, oh from me, my dear. All this fucking. All this fighting. For the cheapest vodka, and even cheaper beer. The sanctity of your property, don't mean shit because you can't own me. Dadadah dah dadah, dadah dah dah to infinite. If you think this world owes you a thing you're fucking wrong. If you think that I owe you anything you're fucking wrong. If you know the words then you should sing, you should sing along. If you think this world owes you a thing you're fucking wrong. You owe your blood to the oceans. You owe your bones to the Earth. Blood to the oceans. Bones to the Earth.....
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7. |
The Green Corn Row
01:48
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Oh, bury me beneath the maples at the end of a green corn row so boys when they’re agoin’ fishin’ they can stop and say hello. Many nights we sat a listenin’ while the fireflies winked their lights to the guitar and the fiddle. How we loved those summer nights. The fiddle now lies cold and silent, and the nights have gone away. The old guitar’s up in the attic, but the memory is here to stay. The Big War took our guitar player. Arthritis got the fiddler’s hand, but the corn still stands firm and fair upon the bosom of the land. And the willows by the fish pond wave in their old friendly way. “Come and dwell beneath my branches” those old willows seem to say. And the squirrels in the oak tree chatter as we walk below. Of the places I have been to, this is still the best I know. There’s a woods above the spring house where we always used to run, Since those days I don’t believe that I have ever had such fun. Walk with me through shady bowers. Share my many memories, tales of sorrow and of laughter, share the greatest times with me. Bury me beneath the maples at the end of a green corn row so boys when they’re agoin’ fishin’ they can stop and say hello.
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Carl Sagan's Cosmic Lantern Pana, Illinois
We are an acoustic music collective from Central Illinois. Our music is often comprised of solo effort, but shaped by group expression. Music is personal and we are people.
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