1. |
Southern Cross
04:04
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Going where the southern cross the dog
Going where the southern cross the dog
I might get there one day
Maybe I might not
W.C. Handy told me where to catch that train
W.C. Handy told me where to catch that train
Frank Stokes n John Lee Hooker
Told me just the same
All my brothers, all my sisters
We’re just one big organism
Shake your chains and be forgiven
Make those demons do your bidding
Your ship ain’t sinking, we can right it
Know you’re fate’s still undecided
Must confess I’m so excited
Gotta sing cuz I can’t hide it
It’s just your sense of self that fails you
You are stronger that what ails you
Don’t wait until you’re dead
You’re the God inside your head
I can hear you calling
You don’t make a sound
It’s alright I hear ya
I can help you out
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2. |
Clarksdale Moan
06:25
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Clarksdale's in the South, and lays heavy on my mind
Clarksdale's in the South, lays heavy on my mind
I can have a good time there, if I ain't got but one lousy dime
Clarksdale, Mississippi always gonn' be my home
Clarksdale, Mississippi always gonn' be my home
That's the reason you hear me set right here and moan
First in flyte with a ‘Y’ I’ll amaze ya
You can call me cutter, I will call you Steppin’ Razor
Ten-Eighty Zapruder, caskets of intruders
Sixty cycle humming, I can feel it in my molars
In my temples, I rent from the sentient tenfold
It beckons the reckoning technically
Lurks in the murkiest boltholes
Got a lump in my throat like a golf ball
And that’s all she wrote
In a fugazi moleskine
Scraps of her tracts looped lazy on the trade winds
He wades in with bin bags attached to his ankles
He sank like a knackered transmission
Fishermen lake gathered in stacks
They were attracted by tales of uncatchable Krakens
They were laying intractable
Awaiting as Ahab
Embarrassing lesser journeyman anglers
winds
He wades in with bin bags attached to his ankles
He sank like a knackered transmission
Every day in the week, I goes to Midtown Drugs
Every day in the week, I goes to Midtown Drugs
Get me a ginger ale, and a plate of that home-cooked grub
Nobody knows Clarksdale like I do
Nobody knows Clarksdale like I do
And the reason I know it, I follow it through and through
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3. |
My Dying Bed
05:07
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When you see me people, hear me, Hear between the tones
When the coda’s played to close, Come gather round my bones
Take that rock you carrying, Hand it off to me
I can tie it round the ankle of a bird cut loose, Watch it flit away
Well Well Well, So I can rest easy, So I can rest easy
So I can rest easy, Every night’s another, tiny death
Won’t you meet me brother meet me, Out by the side of the road
Open up your door to me, Let me sleep upon your floor
I’ll sing my songs while sleeping, Chase away that cold
Set you humming in your slumber, Paint the blood above your door
Well Well Well, So you can rest easy
So you can rest easy, So you can rest easy
Every night’s another, tiny death
Well in my time of dying, i don't want nobody to moan
All I want my friends to do, come and fold my dying arms
Well Well Well, So I can rest easy
So I can rest easy, So I can rest easy
Every night’s another, tiny death
Well this could be the last time, I ever close my eyes
The falling sand, that passes time, Got me in its sights
Well Well Well, So I can die easy
So I can die easy, So I can die easy
Every night’s another, tiny death
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4. |
Saints Alive!
01:46
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Oh! Saints Alive! but for the grace go I
Prodigal son with a heavenly hangup, I can’t abide
I don’t need your diocese, your wafers or your wine
Got my own philosophy and I’m doin’ fine
What a way to live, it’s wearin kinda thin
Eeking out a living, out by the bins
I only sleep in modest cars, one man’s trash, etcetera
Invest in ephemera, you’ll come up shy
I’ve walked a thousand miles, and never seen the sea
I really should while I still have the chance
It’s just it’s so enormous, that I feel it could absorb us
Sweep me out and wash me up in France
Hey, friend of mine, it’s been a while
In fact, I’m sure we haven’t met, but pay no mind
I’ll sit a spell and share your burden, a problem halved, and such assertions
You’re still you, this much is certain, and you’ll do fine
Can't do anything right except this
Anything else is a suit made of bricks
I’ll be perfect once I figure out what that is
Till that time I’ll take my licks
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5. |
The Heft Of Gravity
03:37
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This burdens not goin’ anywhere new
Certainly not anytime soon
No point being subdued
Just keeping on doing what I do
Left foot, right foot, stretch indefinite
Just trying to offset that deficit
No desire to set foot across the finish line
Just getting as far from the start as I can
Hold on, noble soldiers
Don’t let the heft of gravity fold ya
I can set your bones so you can run again
We can set your bones so you can run again
On and on, amid the endless roaming, the time alone
And all the weight I see you carrying
Homeless souls’, I see their hopes are stolen
I see em prone and groaning at the shoulder of the carriageway
Hold on, noble soldiers
Don’t let the heft of gravity fold ya
I can set your bones so you can run again
We can set your bones so you can run again
Not quite sure, what I’m doing or why
Seemed like a good idea at the time
Felt like a sinner, never been a winner
But it wasn’t gonna happen if I didn’t even try
Never had a home as such
One less thing to miss, I guess
Standard singer’s tale of tragic past
I’m tired of walking, want a final place to come to rest
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6. |
Lighthouse
04:08
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I wanted a private jet, I wanted a super yacht
I wanted a gold carrot, I wanted the donkey to take me there
I strangled a cartier, I scrambled a Faberge
There’s gonna be hell to pay, when I buy the wigs of Anton LaVey
And still I tried despite the onslaught just to rise above it
I’d be more winsome if I won sometimes - I’m certain of it
And I’ll be clinging to some saplings when Tsunamis hit
And all your pleasantries, start to sound like eulogies
So, shout it from the lighthouse loud my son
You’ve been doing it since the day you were born
And scores and scores might have come before
But they never had songs like yours
I work in convenience stores, stacking the endless shelf
I’m covered in weeping sores, at least I can say that I’ve got my health
The folly of working poor, is trying to improve ourselves
I try to keep dreaming small - on special occasions I let myself
And I’ll be clinging to some saplings when Tsunamis hit
I’d be more winsome if I won sometimes
We’ll push em back to the Palisades from the barricades
FIX BAYONETS, LADS
This whole town, might be going down
But we’ll be swinging like gorillas when we
Shout it from the lighthouse loud my son
You’ve been doing it since the day you were born
Scores and scores might have come before,
But they never had songs like yours
This whole town, might be going down
But we’ll be swinging like gorillas when we do
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7. |
1000 Wasps in a Jam Jar
04:07
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Shyly she enquired, why he never looked her in the eye while talking
“Frankly,” he reported in retort “it’s a precaution of sorts
I get distracted and refracted, when drawn into those gorgeous portals
Lose my train of thought
Alack! These attacks are back-to-back
In fact it’s intractable
We both know I’ll snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, predictably
How I’m standing still’s a mystery
When standing perpetually…doesn’t seem a victory to me
At times we all will wonder, when our hearts are torn asunder
How we’re meant to keep on wandering
When it feels as if your knees could buckle under ya
Lest we say, “Sod ‘em” Gomorrah
open the box from Pandora I brought ya
I left a jam jar on your doorstep
A thousand wasps within so you might feel the bitter sting
That I felt for you, cuz I adore ya
You can’t deny the grumblings of this old pariah’s
Caused a rumbling down inside ya
Like you’re perched upon the tumble dryer smiling
But you’re best to double check that lid’s on tight
All the Hallmarks say “Love is patient, love is kind”
But the truth can differ significantly, or so I find
Love is selfish, love is desperate, love is scared
Love is willing to carve weapons from those truths you dared to bear
Love is spiteful, Love is mean, Love is seldom neat and clean
Love wrings its hands and forces tears, it wants to know where you’ve been
Love is fearful of what you’re thinking in those silences between
At times we’ll all still wonder, when our hearts are torn asunder
How you’re meant to keep on wandering
When you’re reeling from the feeling that your knees could
Buckle out from under ya
And all the martys say, “Sod ‘em” Gomorrah
Open the box from Pandora I brought ya
I left a jam jar on your doorstep
A thousand wasps within so you might feel the bitter sting
That I felt for you, cuz I adore ya
You can’t deny the grumblings of this old pariah’s
Caused a rumbling down inside ya
Like you’re perched upon the tumble dryer smiling
But you’re best to double check that lid’s on tight
Lest we say, “Sod ‘em” Gomorrah, open the box from Pandora I brought ya
I left a jam jar on your doorstep
A thousand wasps within so you might feel the bitter sting
That I felt for you, cuz I adore ya
You can’t deny the grumblings of this old pariah’s caused a rumbling down inside ya
Like you’re perched upon the tumble dryer smiling
But you’re best to double check that lid’s on tight, alright
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8. |
Lately
04:59
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Lately, I’ve been watching the hands of the clock
Ever-ticking slowly present like a beating heart
Watching, grain after grain of sand
Slipping inwards in the eddies of the hourglass
Ripping off the tickets of the calendar days
We drift through segments of millenial haze
Never stationary ever-ebbing like a tributary
To the ocean where we gather in a soggy singularity
Shame, shame, so glad you came,
Didn’t ask but here you are
Slouching in the corner, pants around your knees
Sober as the day you were born
Shame, shame,shame shame, shame
So glad you came,
Didn’t ask but here you are
Slouching in the corner, pants around your knees
Sober as the day you were born
Please calm down
It can’t be all as bad as that
Please calm down
You’re making a scene
But we’re all running out of time
To put our worlds to rights
For all of the things we just haven’t got around to
So, let’s start tonight
Shame, shame, so glad you came,
Didn’t ask but here you are
Slouching in the corner, pants around your knees
Sober as the day you were born
Please calm down
It can’t be all as bad as that
Please calm down
You’re making a scene
But we’re all running out of time
To put our worlds to rights
For all of the things we just haven’t got around to
So, let’s start tonight
And we’re all running out of time
To put our worlds to rights
For all of the things we just haven’t got around to
So, let’s start tonight
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9. |
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Back to Back we're standing arms at sides
and otherwise there's forty thousand clicks
Between our visages and several seas
If you're at all receptive to this plaintive missive
Then I bid you set your heels to rest, cock an ear and listen
It seems
The only constant in the neverending sea of faces
Is sense of missed potential and misplaced intentions
There's a horde of silent things
That claw beneath the skins of kinfolk
Stressed in lamentations of those things
They think they should have been
But I'm here to tell you that
You're the most stupendous thing I've ever seen
I might just only be chords and a melody
But I'm an authority
So just
Crop your share, they’ll try and tell you
Tend your garden, mind your beeswax
Keep your head down, man the tiller
And then
"Life's Not Fair," they'll try and tell you
When the cistern's overflowing
With the things they say in piety
There's a big ol'list of reasons why you shouldn't
Stick your neck out playing Good Samaritan to
Those who'd never help you back
But best in opposition is the is the anger
That it seems to stoke in folks
Who set the yokes upon our shoulders
Work our stretching racks
Well, I’ve got neverending stamina
Let’s take flight across Pangea fractured
Madly by tectonic machinations cracking
Sons asunder wand'ring why their wanderlust is rumbling
As they’re dumbly stacking shelves
To fund their hunts for red Oktoberfest
But I'm here to tell you that
You're the most stupendous thing I've ever seen
This random amalgam of carbon and helixes
That ties its own shoelaces
And Yet
"You're not up to much," they're sneering
Seeing failure in their tea-leaves
They're misreading, it's misleading
Cos you're
Quite spectacular, yer bastards
And I bloody loves the lot of you
I mean that quite sincerely
And Yet
"You're not up to much," they're sneering
Seeing failure in their tea-leaves
They're misreading, it's misleading
Cos you're
Quite spectacular, yer bastards
And I bloody loves the lot of you
It's not a ruse
I mean that quite sincerely
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10. |
Abandon Sheep
03:06
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Got a tale to tell you, got a bridge to sell you
Got a whole deck, up in the tuck of my sleeve
Gonna paint a picture of a world that fits you
Get a pat on the back and a lucky reprieve
You’re finding fissures and fissures in precarious business
Got a sweat on my neck like you wouldn’t believe
Got a tale to tell you, got a bridge to sell you
Got a whole deck, up in the tuck of my sleeve
Gonna paint a picture of a world that fits you
Get a pat on the back and a lucky reprieve
You’re finding fissures and fissures in precarious business
Got a sweat on my neck like you wouldn’t believe
But you’re still so blind, you can’t see
I’ve got a calculator
A Texas Instrument
You’re like the point of a compass, dividing implement
I’m posing algebra problems
You’re solving for x
I think we both know what comes next
I take on numerous projects
To burn myself out
So you’ll quit over-repeating
The words from your mouth
I think of you again
It’s like the channel won’t change
Better run it back a couple o’times again
I’ve got a calculator
A Texas Instrument
You’re like the point of a compass, dividing implement
I’m posing algebra problems
You’re solving for x
I think we both know what comes next
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11. |
RATS
04:59
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Rats living in my ribcage
Trying to get out
Subsisting on the gristle I’ve been tryna choke down
Dreadlocked together at the tail
All this yearning, turned into vermin
These new Kings of the middlemen are nascent
Revelling in leveling crimes at the innocent
Say what you want about the ignorant
Critically eviscerate ‘em, they’re not listening
Rats living in my ribcage
Trying to get out
Subsisting on the gristle I’ve been tryna choke
Get down from there
You’ll have someone’s eye out
Pin your chin to your sternum. Sirens all fall silent
You’ve plenty of time, to live in your mind
Just pace yourself
“Not for ingestion” is not just a suggestion
Rats living in my ribcage
Trying to get out
Subsisting on the gristle I’ve been tryna choke
Dogs running in the alleyway, loud as cars
Tearing after something crying wounded into the dark
Howling at the klaxons screaming somewhere
This pack of curs, don’t respond to words
Cats clawing at the lids of their mason jars
Sealed off the casket tight with a gasket
Don’t ask me why you found me eating all the pesticides
There’s creatures in my chest
That I need to put to death
Rats living in my ribcage
Trying to get out
Subsisting on the gristle I’ve been tryna choke
Get down from there, You’ll have someone’s eye out
Puget Sound declared: “Rules are made for buyouts”
These grounds ain’t fair, hue began to cry out
“Not for ingestion” is not just a suggestion
Rats living in my ribcage
Trying to get out
Subsisting on the gristle I’ve been tryna choke
Get down from there, You’ll have someone’s eye out
Puget Sound declared: “Rules are made for buyouts”
These grounds ain’t fair, hue began to cry out
“Not for ingestion” is not just a suggestion
Rats living in my ribcage
Trying to get out
Subsisting on the gristle I’ve been tryna choke
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12. |
Diane
06:34
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Well, she’s first at the bar Giro day
First out the cab when its time to pay
Woah, she’s got a bum knee, Name like a deity
Oh, she’s got red card, From half the spots on the high street
Talks like she’s fresh out the merchant Navy
Smells o’ Deep Heat and Amber Leaf, That girl’s a heresy
She’s a big happy sun on a black Rothko canvas
Slashed that Picasso with a Stanley from her handbag
Fine with Roko’s Basilisk
Splashed lime green paint on Adele Bloch-Bauer’s face
Reformed recidivist, missed a kiss from a prince
Now’s she’s set adrift in the midst of this
This blue sky thinking pissing contest
Plastic mac like a binbag flailing
Vaulting the tops of the wrought iron railings
Like some half-cut demi-god
This wing-clipped arista, running
Rough shod
Tough sod
Feeling the rain in her bones, on the social
Dunlops on cobblestones, tone of the motion
No-goes and ginnels
Shining spikes in the wanest remains of the moonlight
Let’s sing a song for the flailing failures
Those lacking egos are always gracious
I’m one to talk...I’m a hamfisted carving of a selfish God
I’ll serenade you on the bus apron
I’ll help shoplift that Danish bacon
I’m entranced by your fat Hippocampus
Crystal decanters, stashed in your handbag
Pilfered glassware not withstanding
You’re as classy as that lass off “Knott’s Landing”
My understanding is yer outstanding
That handsy barman, caught a backhanding
Clambered atop with no-one to stop yers
You copped the lot from the duffed up shopkeep
Ten bags of cashews arms full of optics
We gathered up the plunder, and we ‘opped it
Plastic mac like a binbag flailing
Vaulting the tops of the wrought iron railings
Like some half-cut demi-god
This wing-clipped arista, running
Rough shod
Tough sod
Feeling the rain in her bones, on the social
Dunlops on cobblestones, tone of the motion
No-goes and ginnels
Shining spikes in the wanest remains of the moonlight
He imbibed more than was wise for his rages
Tracked by the serials stamped on his wages
Powder and cordite, linger for ages
Wrote a confession, she ripped out the pages
She was a diva, she flattened his fear
Lassoed the group with a hoop from her ear
Never embarrassed and never a bore
This was the home he was seeking before
Well, she’s first at the bar Giro day
First out the cab when its time to pay
Woah, she’s got a bum knee, Name like a deity
Oh, she’s got red card, From half the spots on the high street
Talks like she’s fresh out the merchant Navy
Smells o’ Deep Heat and Amber Leaf
That girl’s a heresy
She’s a big happy sun on a black Rothko canvas
Slashed that Picasso with a Stanley from her handbag
Fine with Roko’s Basilisk
Splashed lime green paint on Adele Bloch-Bauer’s face
Reformed recidivist, missed a kiss from a prince
Now’s she’s set adrift in the midst of this
This blue sky thinking pissing contest
Plastic mac like a binbag flailing
Vaulting the tops of the wrought iron railings
Like some half-cut demi-god
This wing-clipped arista, running
Rough shod
Tough sod
Feeling the rain in her bones, on the social
Dunlops on cobblestones, tone of the motion
No-goes and ginnels
Shining spikes in the wanest remains of the moonlight
He imbibed more than was wise for his rages
Tracked by the serials stamped on his wages
Powder and cordite, linger for ages
Wrote a confession, she ripped out the pages,
She was a diva, she flattened his fear
Lassoed the group with a hoop from her ear
Never embarrassed and never a bore
This was the home he was seeking before
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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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