Tell me what would make you feel better
Tearing up the floor boards to find what’s wrong
Bound to the life inside your womb.
Oh.
Oh to be born into something different
Concealed by cloth and brothers
Into tired hands you will be born.
Oh.
You live and walk among us
Working for the blood that’s in your veins
Morning dew rests on your feet
Oh.
Tell me what you want me to say
You could run away and hide in a cave
Or give flight to your feathers and ride the sky
Oh.
Here is a mix I made for this lovely season:
Awake (disc 1):
1. Delta Spirit – Trashcan
2. Enon – In This City
3. Colour – Conversations
4. Sleater-Kinney – Wilderness
5. Koufax – Move Out, Move On
6. The Soft Drugs – Defending the Paint
7. Dr. Dog – Old News
8. Hank III – Thrown Out Of the Bar
9. The Night Marchers – In Dead Sleep (I Snore ZZZZ)
10. The Four Tops – It’s the Same Old Song
11. Young Cities – All For Nothing
12. The Cave Singers – Leap
13. Old Crow Medicine Show – Tell It to Me
14. The Meters – Love is for Me
15. Otis Redding – (Sittin’ On) the Dock of the Bay
http://www.mediafire.com/?owu01mc3puq38ek
Dream (disc 2)
1. Helado Negro – Year One
2. Gliss – Morning Light
3. Avi Buffalo – Coaxed
4. Engineers – Sometimes I Realise
5. Tortoise – Prepare Your Coffin
6. Letting Up Despite Great Faults – In Steps
7. Papa M – Krusty
8. Ann Peebles – I Can’t Stop the Rain
9. Blonde Redhead – 23
10. The Clientele – Never Anyone but You
11. J. Tillman – Milk White Air
12. Low – Medicine Magazines
13. Sparklehorse – Jaykub (feat. Jason Lytle)
Through a door frame the sun seeps in, soaking the back of your body.
At the loom I sit, weaving you a scarf made of cambric.
Through each stitch the needle drowns itself in the wool.
It delights in the smell of the fabric and the feel on its cold skin.
Your father called me by phone yesterday
to tell of his daughter’s reckless wonder.
“She won’t wait for you”, he shared.
“I am content in just listening to every sound she makes” I replied
Our toes are edging the side of the building so tall.
We lick our popsicles as the parade marches by beneath us.
They march into the murky water of the bloody sea.
I don’t think I could love you any more than right now.
Are there none who live around us who know just what we are?
Like a moth changing bodies for a new and distant land.
From a dusted grey coat to a bright feathered headband.
We were dying in the night sky.
Now we fly through the sun’s warm rays.
I spread my wings for the child’s appeasement.
You tickle the cheeks of some lover’s face.
We remain voiceless about what comes next.
We’ve traded our grey existence for a colorful mask.
The completion of this beauty is an unnoticed death.
That’s the plight of the sacred, returning to the ash.
Like a gypsy river you run
Without fear or clamor.
Settled to be led around
By the wind.
Knives concealed under your
Pale white tunic.
What need have you but
The wind and the rain?
Pass through my township
And view the maimed.
Only you are foolish enough
To free the silenced.
To take on the judgment
Of our orphaned souls.
The sprarkle of the blue water glimmers
as the heron conceals his fish.
Nails driven through the coffin
seal her wrinkled skin.
With my brother’s horse I
pull her to the ocean.
I pull the reigns of the tethers
as the wood drags in the sand.
My father is up above watching.
Tears trickle down his calloused skin.
Sixteen years ago he showed her how to die
with the water and with the waves.
His one task remained, to blow with the wind
and give the herons flight.
Ellen flows through the channels
to meet her Alfred’s joy.
This spring, I went on a roadtrip to Los Angeles. unfortunately, I coudln’t find my camera after our pit-stop in Las Vegas, so all of my pictures are up to that point. i just found my camera a few weeks ago and figured I’d pass along some of our shenanigans.
Enjoy
risky:
the view:
Impeccable style (notice the flip flops+black socks)
I find it interesting how the moment I sit down at my desk, I am bombarded with distractions. 99% of these distractions are rooted in the computer screen sitting in front of me. As soon as I sit, I think “I need to check my RSS, Twitter, Facebook, Message Boards, and Bank Account”. Meanwhile, my moleskin is sitting right next to me just begging to be written in. Sometimes these distractions even pour into my work productivity. I am aware that it’s somewhat ironic that I am “blogging” about this issue.
The point is, sometimes I need to make a conscious effort to re-prioritize my life and what’s important to me. Is it more important for me to check Facebook or be creative? Is it more important for me to read the latest RSS update or serve my customers at the job I am blessed to have.
Lately, it feels like I need to remind myself of this daily.
Sorry for posting so much about my new project, the kentucky street parlor pickers. I just wanted to let you know you can download all 6 tracks of the ep we’ve recorded for free here:
http://soundcloud.com/kentucky-parlor-pickers
Also don’t forget to add us on facebook. Just search for “kentucky street parlor pickers”
The Kevlar Beard 