1. |
Invoice
02:50
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He was a fine man, sang Wichita Lineman,
Soaked as Poseidon, sheets to the wind,
He met his maker, in a Studebaker,
There he lay, in the bed that he'd made,
And all his little chickens cam ehome to roost.
Young Milo Vidal, looked matinee idol,
Yet homicidal, beat in his chest,
Young Mildred Singer, they found just a finger,
How he crooned in the interview room,
"5'll get me 10 you won't find the rest."
Seeds are sown, the dangers known,
You'll face the man alone, as the credits roll,
He'll take away your toys, he'll mute your voice,
You always had a choice, as he taps the bottom line on the invoice
This ragged wastrel, this wandering minstrel,
He kept a pistol, under his coat.
He lay with Delila, drew ire from Ira,
She slipped the mickey up in his Gin Rickey
And Mister ran a razorblade over his throat.
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2. |
Hot Pot Circuit
03:04
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Sprawled out on the canvas, that is where we find our protaganist
Battered by the pugilist who looks a lot like life,
I was cradled and ashamed, I was enabled and defamed,
I was resigned and misaligned by minor strife,
Knuckles bloodied he collapsed into a heap to beg for mercy
As the Tempest roared above,
You were fearless, you were peerless,
Standing defiant 'neath a banner reading love love love love,
I was alone, I was cold, I was seldom sober,
I was laying out in that rain for so long,
I was maudlin, I was dawdlin' I was cheap and tawdry,
In the cellar, making hella angsty songs,
It gets hard sometimes but baby baby I'll keep trying
You stormed the fortress when I had been condemned as lawless,
You brought the echinecia plant to dress my wounds,
You made a tourniquet and hauled me up the parapet,
You built a single-engined Cessna from some spoons,
We made good our escape, we mixed the grain and grape,
We filled our afternoons, with chocolate cake and Looney Tunes,
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3. |
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He had a camel hair coat, and a cockeyed smile,
You'd see him wearing both, come rain or shine,
The storefront had an awning, they'd huddle from midnight til morning
Laid the coat out as a bed, battered old dreadnought under his head,
They had a bouquet of broken bottles, their pale and humble voices,
Speak they did, in arcane lexis, singing saws between their knees,
While under frowning hills, I'll sleep quiet underground,
Surrounded by the silent earth,
Clawing fistfuls of divinity from the ground,
Not for nothing he's sure to say, 'bout his rich and storied past,
There was a girl you see, as if you had to ask,
She knew how to curse in German, taught him words he'd never heard,
Never called him by his name, only filthy sobriquets,
Sonorous vowels they rained upon him, like "Go," "Home," and "alone,"
Cold and dumb he watched her board,
Kept his vagrant's vigilance for ever more,
He'll stay here and wait, wrenching diamonds out of coal,
So she will stay forever,
Whenever she gets back from wherever she's gone.
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4. |
A Fast Buck
02:46
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Good god almighty making sisters perspire
A little wilder than the average friar,
Raising havoc in your cassock,
Did my penance in the prior
I got called into the Office Divine,
We spiked the Sacrament up
Tried to make a fast buck
We charged a shekel a cup
We’re Out of order, Out of Luck
I been wild, I been vile, I been cruel,
Just like you showed me,
Made me deny the one thing I knew
That was true,
Ooh my Byzantine,
Looking at his concubine,
She snakes it like its serpentine
She shakes it like a tambourine
Quite contrary Magdalene,
You caught me staring again,
What’s that you’re smuggling?
Beneath your robes of hessian?
She got out of the habit,
This trappist went to tap it,
Woke St Benedict up,
We’re out of order, out of luck
Erstwhile villany,
Dissipates in Miscellany,
Missing my epistolary,
Mission just for missionary,
My page illuminated,
I’m excommunicated,
I’m unconcerned with Satan,
I found my true salvation
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Geese Preston, UK
Members of 1.21 Gigawatts, Drunk Girls, Brassic and various other Preston bands, Geese play a variety of retro, rootsy genres, blues, folk, doo-wop, ballads, gypsy jazz, and so on.
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