1. |
Dirty Feet
05:04
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Vav does the can-can whenever he feels under siege,
All hairy knees and splaying hands
To keep himself at ease
6 patches, 5 pins, 2 dollars, 8 pills in his jeans,
He warms to the sales clerks, but bank tellers
Tend to make him mean.
Silly scarred earthquake of a man,
He's my friend so let him be.
With no dirt on your feet, can you know where you have tread?
With no red in your cheeks, you might as well be dead.
Teylor will kick out your teeth if you give her a reason.
Blue haired and read-eyed, the whiskey
Won't sting like her tongue.
Banged-up by livin' she's lovely as trainwrecks can be.
She drags 'round her ghosts and she snaps them
Like dry kindling.
Smooth-talkin' frenzy of a girl,
She knows herself at least.
With no beer on your sleeve, do you know you've left your bed?
With no blood in your teeth, do you know if you've been fed?
You with the fishscale dress and the soft hands
Float on the edge of the world of scratched knees.
Don't you know broken bones rattle in those souls
Stubbing their toes on the road of the free?
Ragged and free.
With no dirt on your feet, can you know where you have tread?
With no blood in your teeth, you might as well be dead.
So booze, bruise, fight and be free
And you'll know that you have lived.
So feel the weight of all things hard and push it back again and be free,
And you'll know that you have lived.
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2. |
'Til the Thaw Comes
05:01
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She's sour-eyed at down and newspaper gray,
Recedes a bit every day,
Where you can't say.
You can't live alone with a flinty old stone, no spark in her bones.
She's caught in the clay
Of shortening days.
And you know that you love her, but every kind word you say,
It just ricochets
Off her steely gaze.
All soft things freeze in the winter's maw.
Can't hide your tracks when they're carved in snow.
Press all her parts 'til her heartbeat hums
And wait 'til the thaw comes.
Hunched like a vine 'round her handlebars, she rides
On beneath murmuring skies
Sleet in her eyes.
She is meaner in this bullying wind with tires that spin
Like throwing stars
Through the wheezy old cars.
And that chain keeps on whirring, that rattler it bears her away
'Til her silhouette fades
Lost in the haze.
All soft things freeze in the winter's maw.
Can't hide your tracks when they're carved in snow.
Press all her parts 'til her heartbeat hums
And wait 'til the thaw comes.
Well she's got everything she could want, but she's lonely.
You can't wrap your head 'round the hurt she's invoking.
And you just wanna take her pretty face
And shove it in the splendor of this place
But you're not the kind of man who acts that way.
Well she's got everything she could want, but she's moping.
You can't wrap your head 'round the hurt she's invoking.
And you just wanna take her pretty face
And shove it in the splendor of this place
But you're not the kind of man who falls from grace.
'Til the thaw comes.
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3. |
Down the River
07:16
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It was a dark day when the messenger came
I could sense the shape of it like figures in the rain
Any augur knows there's no romance in this
An omen in my belly, a prophecy in piss
You who are not you, bead of providence,
Snag the fabric of my waking hours like denim on a fence
My voice drops I growl, howl, make animal sounds, stutter curse, until my tantrums cease
And I beg you simply to go in peace
I sent you down the river
May the tawny birds and speckled moths reprieve you
I sent you down the river
May the marshes on the other side receive you
Silver footprints, the phantom leaves for me;
They ache and they shiver for those who care to see
And the marks bloom like India ink
Limned by a passing, a light on the brink
Of shining,
Your path, my path, divinely dividing
Walk on through the half-light, wiillows hangin low
I'll be glad to know you when that path becomes my own
I sent you down the river
May the tawny birds and speckled moths reprieve you
I sent you down the river
May the marshes on the other side receive you
I have learned the shades of grief
In my body to the bone
I have swallowed them raw and whole
And now they are my own
Cry
Quiver
Shake
And be still.
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4. |
The Bitter Pit
06:35
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Oh the last time that I saw my lover alive
WAs a pallid sunny day in fall
Into my hand he slipped his mother's wedding band
All set with a turquoise skull.
All acid in our kiss, and whiskey on our lips,
We pinwheeled off into the growing dark.
We rang the brassy bell on the old glass carousel
And married in the Brooklyn Bridge park.
I was sixteen when I first saw that man
Strong as a tree, with red chucks and Ray-Bans.
I climbed up on him, broke my dear old daddy,
Wrapped my legs around him , rode him to the city.
To the city with my big man.
Oh I loved him, I was so young then.
Still I loved him. I am older now.
I once loved him, but I've learned a thing or two.
Oh my lover laid his head upon our wedding bed.
He snored so loud it shook the empty room.
The floorboards heaved a sigh and the lone bulb cast its light
Upon the perfumed token of our doom.
Tucked beside his heel, like a dagger, cold as steel:
Oily words upon a rosy page,
Fifteen filthy lines from my sister Caroline,
Twice my size but only half his age.
"My lover," said she, "I miss you terribly,
I hope that wedding fools my sister good.
Still her wild heart, then forsake that silly tart,
And come to me just like you said you would."
I clawed the air for the bedside table,
Lights flickered low as a votive candle,
Groped in the drawer for the ivory handle
Of my mama's pistol with the 8-inch barrel.
8-inch barrel at my big man.
Oh I loved him, I was so young then.
Still I loved him, I am older now.
Once I loved him, but he'll learn a thing or two.
My lover, he died, with that gun between his eyes
I pulled the trigger, didn't shed a tear.
I fled the sordid scene as the sirens filled the eve,
But as I left I whispered in his ear:
I love you
I love you
I'd have loved you
I'd have loved you
I'd have been your lovin' wife, right 'til the day you died
But cross me and you'll cross the river Styx.
I'm young and I'm sweet and I'm ripe as a peach,
But bite too hard you'll get the bitter pit.
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5. |
Blue Tinsel
05:03
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Rachel Wolf New York
Hello, and welcome to my lair. The story of my life is long and confusing, much like my digestive tract, and my animal-name. I won't bore you with the details, suffice it to say that I am a prowling, howling, Brooklyn beast. The full moon makes me want to sing with reckless abandon and eat arepas. This wolf is looking for shows and new friends. Howl at the desolate sky if you can provide either! ... more
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