1. |
||||
|
The body bobbed in the river all night, to the tune of B.B King
And way down the line, a fisherman said, hey, what’s that thing?
There was fire on the hillside, faceless children on the trail
You were beginning to hate my, tendency to fail
In the back of a yellow pick-up, along the mountain road
There was no reason to worry about, the gathering storm
Black clouds were nothing new, our lives looked so forlorn
When we stumbled upon a bamboo hut, and wordlessly disrobed
You smiled with your eyes when I placed my hands around your hips
You told me to come inside and kissed me when I did
And when the neon was burning bright, we went down to the Old Green Dolphin
The place was packed with killers, hiding bodies under their collars
Everyone was looking popular, like James Dean driving a death machine
Everyone was looking popular, like James Dean driving a death machine
Yes, everyone was looking so popular, like James Dean driving a death machine
Oh, everyone was looking so popular, like James Dean driving a death machine
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
My life is over when I drink, and I like it that way, I think
Invite the blind boys and we can play, like we were never born
I’m too young to feel this old, but it’s party night, it’s party night
And I’m all alone…
Blow up the coloured balloons, as the birthday candles set fire to the curtains
We’re gonna burn this place to the ground
Blow up the coloured balloons, as the birthday candles set fire to the curtains
We’re gonna burn this place to the ground
We’re gonna burn it all down
Spill my ashes in your drink, and pour it down the kitchen sink
Invite the kind girls and we can play, like we were never born
I’m too young to feel this old, but it’s party night, it’s party night
And I'm all alone (in the basement of my fear)
Blow up the coloured balloons, as the birthday candles set fire to the curtains
We’re gonna burn this place to the ground
Blow up the coloured balloons, as the birthday candles set fire to the curtains
We’re gonna burn this place to the ground
We’re gonna burn it all down
|
||||
3. |
||||
|
I can see it there in the sweep of stars
In a press of waves, in a line of cars
In the grain of wood beneath my beer on the bar
In the eyes of the girls with their hands on their hips
And four-letter words sleeping on the pillows of their lips
I can hear it there in the tousling weeds
In the window fan’s electric breeze
In the pots and pans in the kitchen sink
And it makes me wanna get another drink
From the gaunt-faced girl with the neon nails, behind the bar
I can feel it there just like a favourite pen
Like a boomerang comin back again
In a midnight choir singin round a fire
In a perfect song on the radio
And it puts me in the mood for a tail-gate party at a Grateful Dead show
I can taste it there in the whiskey’s finish:
In the sweat between her breasts
In the clover flower down in the pocket park
In an ice cream cone from a three-wheeled cart
And now there’s a man holding up a sign in the boulevard of my heart
It was not so very long ago
I stood on a bridge lookin down below
The thoughts in my head were doin me in
Saw myself jump and I almost did
But then I made my way down to the road and stuck out my thumb
Wound up in a cosmopolitan city
Where the lights were bright and the people were pretty
And then I saw the folks on the subway grates
With their paper cups and their hapless fates
And it made me pine for the future of a world I did not know
Eventually I made my way back home
Aka the place where I was born
Nothing had changed because it never really does
So, I did some shrooms and caught a good strong buzz
And I swear to god, if god exists, that it made me feel a little less alone
When the world seems cold as concrete
When the world seems cold as concrete
Nature will provide
Nature will provide
|
||||
4. |
||||
|
Somebody once told me, you’re an Indian
I answered, no, I’m not
Somebody once said, you’re gonna love me
I said, no, I’m not
Because I live in the shadow of disease
Cholera, malaria, typhoid, and dysentery
Somebody once said, you’re getting better
I said, no, I’m not
No, I’m not
No, I’m not
Love in the jungle is not the same, as love in the city
There’re more burning huts, more naked bodies, more ways to take pity
Strings of beads, and panther furs, rotten wood and golden birds
The doctor said, just take these pills
I said, no, I can’t
No, I can’t
No, I can’t
The doctor got mad and told me
About a white man who stepped off a roof in Nairobi
Late one night
You’ll end up just like that, he said
No I won’t, I replied
I’ll draw an inside straight at the casino where the girls hang tough
No you won’t, he replied
Somebody once told me, you’re an Indian
I answered , no, I’m not
Somebody once said, you’re gonna love me
I said, no, I’m not
No, I’m not
No, I’m not
|
||||
5. |
Blood Smells Like Iron
04:10
|
|||
|
Maybe I should pray more
Get a better perspective on lying
Seasons and shores, babies and whores
Bottle on the sill
Hat upon the dresser
Dead girl in my wallet
As the sun melts the day away
Father love me with your eyes
Mother with your hands, I hate Manhattan
The hotels there are holes in my heart
Stab myself in the chest
For a cringeworthy death
Fall to my knees, just to find that
Blood smells like iron
Blood smells like iron
A bottle a day, going blind by the drink
Father’s eyes in the hall
Mother’s call can be heard
In the early morning silence
One lie after another
With eyes aflame and the days disappearing
As the sound of prayer walks through the night
Killing each other in bed
Twisting vows like bird necks
A priest stops by a car wreck
On his way home
Stab myself in the chest
For a cringeworthy death
Fall to my knees, just to find that
Blood smells like iron
Blood smells like iron
Blood smells like iron
Blood smells like iron
|
||||
6. |
||||
|
Wise child/foolish man
Staring at your screen
Headlines tickering
‘Cross your morning routine
Witness to distant misery
War and famine abroad
And death applauds
With a little bird against your window
Feathers explode, soft as wheat
Startled cats, wake from sleep
As you step outside on your balcony
To see what you can see
On the patio stone below
A sparrow lies, talons to sky
And you wonder what it means
An omen, could it be?
An omen, could it be?
An omen, could it be?
Wise child/foolish man
Still caught up in your dream
Above your head the clouds are mean
Under ceilings unseen
Explode your feathers soft as wheat
Twist your neck and curl your feet
Leave us all with something on our screens
Leave us all with something on our screens
Leave us all with nothing on our screens
|
||||
7. |
Must Be Halloween
03:21
|
|||
|
You’re in a shitty African hospital, with wet, mouldy walls or is it bombed out Bosnia … no, it’s somewhere on a bad road, and you are hurt and have lost track of time
You make it out of bed and throw up on the floor, lean against the wall, you are dry and notice somebody in the hall looking at you
His face is like a mask
He walks away with a sheet covering his body
You think it must be Halloween
Then you leave your room and see a light at the end of the hall
You walk in the dark, a candle or two around, and the place is quiet
The night is hiding from the war
At the end of the hall there is a room and you look inside and see a new friend, a companion in this fucked up place
He raises his head and his eyes light up
You are hope for him, a way to get better, a conversation about something peaceful
You touch his arm, he’s burning up, and he mutters backward words, echoes in a thin vessel
You see things in his face … you see his parents, a town, a girl, a different life and they are in the very back of his eyes, living in soft light, like the softness of your heart, and it is all there at the back of his eyes, and you know he is never going to get out of bed
You are hollow, tired, an old man beating his fists against the wall
You walk back to your room, step in your vomit, climb into bed, and you dream, as if you were someplace else and things are soft, grey oatmeal, and you fall into the soft beat of your heart and the soft breathing of the guy down the hall, and in its own way, the dream is timeless, formless, and unlike him, you will live another day
another day
another day
|
||||
quick forest Kingston, Ontario
quick forest is a conversation between friends in a city reclaimed by nature, several decades after the end of the world
quick forest recommends:
Songs for Long Rains
by John Michigan
I like everything about John Michigan's presentation. Vocal excellence. Lyrical depth. Musical acuity. Visual intrigue. Just an all round appeal that few artists have.
go to albumIf you like quick forest, you may also like:
Assorted Orchids
by Assorted Orchids
Hypnotic night music on the latest from Assorted Orchids, with spiraling acoustic guitars and drifting, beatific vocals.
go to album
somebody had to
by phoneswithchords
The gentle lo-fi songs on the latest phoneswithchords LP develop their granular sketches of childhood and coming of age into full portraits.
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Jan 24, 2023
go to album
Scott Orr presents an album about death, our planet, and the afterlife through a folky, smooth-jazz lens.
go to album
Forever Only Idaho
by Harrison Lemke
Big, strummy songs that recall the heart-on-sleeve earnestness and lo-fi glory of early Mountain Goats.
go to album
