1. |
Counting Grays
03:09
|
|||
Calling out my lone gray hair,
Don’t laugh too hard - more are growing in,
Once upon a time, I would have been offended,
I was cooler then.
Buzzing on your second glass of wine,
A few small bites - you say you’re full,
Two sleepy eyes teasing mine,
Mine are doing fine behind the wool.
Turn out the lights,
Call it an early evening,
I dig this sense of calm,
I don’t want to jinx it,
Karma cuts the cards
and deals them while you’re blinking,
Worry about the odds tomorrow...
Tonight I’m breaking even.
You twitch the moment you fall into slumber
and I know you're really gone,
Tell me everything you dream when you return,
Don’t make me wait too long.
Skipping cracks - tossed salt,
Anything to earn myself a fool’s advantage,
Anything that keeps you counting grays,
Anything for second chances.
Injured bird stopped flailing,
He ain’t cursing at the ground,
Hitch a ride to gravity,
Blow a kiss - I’m coming down.
|
||||
2. |
Brawny
02:53
|
|||
You warned me not to fall in love,
I was never good at numbers - but it finally added up,
The best scenario was breaking even,
You used me or I used you -
Or some combination of the two,
We drank it in so fast that we stopped breathing.
You declared yourself the winner,
I should have known it was a game.
Now you don’t think of me,
And I don’t think of you - it’s all the same.
Company loves misery,
And I guess that we were meant to be
For a small explosive increment of time.
You said I made you smile somehow,
But every fight was biffbangpow -
And the gaslighting was scrambling my mind,
All that summer we were falling,
And we held each other tight,
You let go of me,
I let go of you - but it’s alright.
A Dear John written on a paper towel,
You signed someone else’s name.
“Thanks and fuck you - see you later”
You know I nearly had it framed,
Yeah who’s to blame?
|
||||
3. |
Dumb Hill to Die On
02:33
|
|||
I grew up waiting for the end of the world
And now it’s here - and I’m just bored,
Six shots deep on a Netflix couch,
If I was a bank - they’d bail me out.
I wanna be better than this.
Funny thing - it’s a beautiful day,
Spring sprung up anyway
I cut the grass - I feel ok,
I’m just bracing for the plague.
I wanna be better than this.
Liars, hoarders, crooks, and dopes,
We’re all strung from the same rope,
Wash your hands - don’t touch your face,
And your President’s a damn disgrace.
I’m not dumb on history,
The rich stay rich and we’ll all bleed,
How do you help your friends in need
When it’s all real-time on a FB feed?
***Venmo***
Baby- don’t give up on me.
Or the raw-ass nerve where my heart used to be,
Mourn the living, toast the dead,
Waffle House is index red.
Scatter and cover.
The news is bad - but if we’re doomed
Then I’m glad you’re the adult in the room
Dominos topple - enjoy the show,
Dumb hill to die on,
But here we go…
Tell me how you’ve really been,
I walk right past you now and then,
We’re both immersed in tiny screens,
I’m sorry that you’re quarantined with me...
I wanna be better than this.
|
||||
4. |
You Can Still Be Alright
03:30
|
|||
Nah son - I got no batteries,
It won’t light up - I think it’s dead.
It’s all shit from here on in,
You've got a long long long long road ahead.
Spring won’t last forever,
You better bruise while you still can.
You’re racing for September,
You're trying to be a thick-skinned man.
Oh no! Oh yeah!
No girl - she’s no princess,
Orange plastic and vacant eyes,
Better throw her out the window
Before she fills your head with lies.
I hate to break it to you,
But you’ve got more brains than me,
Spring won’t last forever -
And whatever will be will be,
Oh no! Oh yeah!
Do what you can
In a world fast and mean,
Go hard even if
You don’t change anything.
You still cast a shadow,
You know there’s a light,
If it won’t come together,
You can still be alright,
And when you’re high - you’ll swear God’s in your ear,
And when you’re low - you’ll wonder why you’re still here.
And If you fuck it up - I hope it’s still fun.
Leave something beautiful before you get done.
You’ve still got a shadow
And it still wants to fight,
Just as long as it’s yours,
You can still be alright.
You might not be the best,
You can still be alright.
You probably won’t be the best,
You can still be alright.
|
||||
5. |
Whatever It Was
04:33
|
|||
Heavy eyes and neither of us talking,
Waiting for that puny flame to die.
Little Dipper, Southern Cross, connect the dots but we’re still lost,
Out of breath and dumbstruck at the sky.
Syrup skin stuck to wet clothes,
Our empties lined like soldiers on a rail,
Five years gone and you won’t speak his name,
Your faded stick-and-poke still tells the tale.
Shake the dust and spread your wings,
Clear your tone-deaf throat and try to sing,
Whatever it was doesn’t hurt anymore,
And whatever will be is alright.
I heard you kicked some nasty habits,
Took back your own last name,
Day-shift life - an apartment of your own,
Staying in nights, being lame.
Out here you laugh the way you used to,
Your bogeyman died in the weeds.
There’s nothing left to run away from,
Go where you’re going to in peace.
Sunrise creeping - I don’t want to face today,
And your smile has got me chewing on words I’ll never say,
Whatever it was doesn’t hurt anymore,
And whatever will be is alright.
Bad advice is all I’m good for,
I guess I’ll keep it to myself,
But I’d rather wander in the dark with you
Than see the light with anybody else.
|
||||
6. |
||||
Five bucks for Leonard Cohen - but I don’t even know it,
Hallelujah they’re all wasted - they get to watch me blow it.
Hey there fucko, come on up and sing a line,
Spit on me and scrub and I might shine.
Outside breweries,
Kids and dogs to normalize day-drinking,
IPA’s stinking,
We’ve got sticky lips - and Sunday’s ship is sinking,
Downtown’s booming now,
The shitty wonderland I knew is gone,
Oh how we’ve grown,
Sometimes I just miss walking around alone.
Hear those midwest accents with ready cash in hand,
And these gutted mill hill houses selling for 200 grand,
Rust belt to the sun belt - and they’re forming a long line,
To spit it on us and scrub that we might shine.
Wait until the room clears out - and then get paid to haunt it,
Endangered species list, I don’t care much if I’m on it,
You and me - no one else can find the time,
Spit on me and scrub and I might shine.
I don’t know what it is but sometimes it’s still mine,
Spit on me and scrub.
|
||||
7. |
The Red Field
03:41
|
|||
We vanish every afternoon and no one seems to care.
A left-behind half acre we won’t ever have to share,
A hidden path, a broken fence, a sign that says beware.
Summer in the red field’s almost gone,
Cup of caterpillars, bullet shells, a pile of bones.
August clouds are carriages for royalty in the sky,
And when it rains a rusted Chevrolet keeps us dry,
We gave your dolls a funeral - you had to say goodbye.
Summer in the red field’s almost gone,
Your mother took him back again - you’re scared of going home.
Bruises on your arms because you didn’t do as told,
But if he passes through the gate, the witch will take his soul.
Pennies on the railroad tracks turning into gold.
Summer in the red field’s almost gone,
I lost another tooth - the new one’s growing in all wrong.
Sunset makes me sick - I watch you walk away alone.
|
||||
8. |
The Bells
05:32
|
|||
6pm was my church bell curfew,
You cried your eyes out - what could I do?
We caught the last slither of November sun,
Vines on the tracks where the train used to run.
My folks took the key from under the mat,
My grades have been slipping since school started back,
And you made a bad first impression,
Talking too loud - asking too many questions....
Skipping school was a bust - there’s nowhere to go,
Two broken windows and the kerosene’s low,
And your mandolin won’t stay in tune,
But I’m cool with you in this cramped frigid room.
And when she gets home - she’s drunk and she’s loud,
Confessing her sins on that bourbon-stained couch,
One of those sins being you,
Three towns in three years and you’ll both be gone soon.
Next year I’ll have a car,
I’ll come and find you wherever you are...
You throw your sketches into the fire,
You say faces here ain’t worth remembering,
You say you could never get mine quite right,
You say I’m still growing into it.
Maybe I’m still growing into it.
I’ve got no answers - I’m just a crutch,
I try to be cool - but I bruise to your touch.
Next year I’ll have a car...
Old concert tickets taped to your door,
You saw the Cult and you saw the Cure,
And Richmond was better 'cause you never got bored,
But your old friends don’t call you or write anymore.
You and me - and that one-eyed dog you call "Job"
And ol' Johnny Carson - he comes and he goes...
And I’m breaking my brand new curfew,
You’re leaving tomorrow, what else can I do?
We catch the first slither of November sun,
Vines on the tracks where a train used to run,
Next year I’ll have a car...
Next year I'll have a car...
Hear the bells.
|
||||
9. |
Idiot Twin
04:16
|
|||
Three days of in-school suspension,
We were idiot twins to the core,
And the same local shrink wrote us matching prescriptions
For drugs they don’t give kids no more.
Street Fighter II with volume turned down,
Op Ivy on my stereo,
Dashboard change spent on Waffle House coffee,
And then an hour spent drinking it slow.
Menthols and kickball behind Village Square
As soon as we clocked out of work,
I’d crash at your place or you’d crash at mine,
Depending on whose situation was worse.
Meteor shower at Lake Wylie dam,
Tweaking on gas station speed,
Street lights flicker when we walk underneath,
You say it’s a sign - we’re both jinxed,
Maybe you're right.
We fell out our first year of college,
You didn’t make it too far,
Fucked up on the rooftop of Wofford one night,
You dropped a brick on a Winthrop cop car.
The next year I got a letter
From an E3 Private First Class,
“Hey man don’t get stuck in Rock Hill,
I’m broke - could you wire me some cash?”
A wrecked motorbike in Hawaii,
That’s really all we were told,
Doomed to expire in a shitball of fire,
My idiot twin wasn’t meant to be old.
3-volley salute and a flag getting rolled.
Power chords on a shit Takamine,
You gotta scream it before you can sing,
Street lights flicker when we walk underneath,
You say it’s a sign - we’re both jinxed,
Maybe you're right.
There’s only one photo, we both look like props,
Grinning in our caps and gowns,
And your torn up Fiero parked in the driveway,
And the satellite dish in my old man’s backyard
Might as well have been aimed at the ground.
|
||||
10. |
Borrowed Eyes
05:41
|
|||
I lose you every day,
You find me every evening,
Laughing through the drywall,
Wrapping on the ceiling.
Peering through a mirror
Through eyes I thought were mine,
You left the world’s worst map,
I’m running circles all the time.
I hate this place,
Cracks form - they spread - they splay,
She says it’s disease,
Tracing my face with her fingers-
Swears she sees
The old man still alive...
Menacing but frail.
The boy who’s trapped inside,
Gaunt and trembling pale,
With sordid tales to tell -
And borrowed eyes...
Jagged slab of concrete
With tree roots poking through,
She says the house is haunted...
Is it me or you?
Whispering through the air ducts,
We don’t heed your advice,
You curse by slamming doors,
You wink with flickering lights.
|
||||
11. |
||||
Thank you for the invite but I’ve gotta turn you down.
Although we’re blood-kin, you don’t want me hanging ‘round,
You’re a shrieking fascist - your husband is a clown.
I’m not wasting Christmas on you.
Stop opening attachments, stop sending me those links,
Stop doubling down on QAnon and go learn how to think,
You’re obsessed with pedophiles - I think you need a shrink.
I’m not wasting Christmas on you.
Ranting about the deep state just ain’t my idea of fun,
Don’t wanna watch my creepy incel cousin clean his gun,
In 2024 I bet you he is going to run and win the state of South Carolina...
I’d rather have a bag of switches or a lump of coal
than hear your racist garbage or eat your casserole,
A 50-dollar gift card if you shut your stupid hole,
I’m not wasting Christmas on you.
I’m not wasting Christmas on you.
|
||||
12. |
Flopperjaw
02:50
|
|||
My daddy called her Flopperjaw - mom’s big sister,
And she took no shit from him or no one else,
Mid-December - he’d been on a 2-week bender,
Making threats and dragging mom and me through hell.
Police siren zooming, my aunt was outside fuming,
And my mother wasn’t sure just what to do,
My dad said “damn the law, you can go with Flopperjaw,
But leave my boy ‘cause you ain’t taking him with you”.
She grabbed my arm and called his bluffing,
Nothing to lose when you ain’t got nothing.
We spent that Christmas in her unheated duplex,
My bedroom was a pallet on the floor,
I said “Aunt Flopperjaw - I know you hate my dad,
But take me home ‘cause I can’t stay here anymore”.
She hugged me tight and called my bluffing,
“You can’t go home cause you ain’t got nothing”.
But oh she cried out when my old man died,
And when my mom passed, she was by my side.
We lost touch and then the years went by
And COVID took her down at 91.
Riding shotgun in her blue Chevette
She’d blast the radio and we’d forget…
Patsy Cline and David Ruffin,
You sing along when you ain’t got nothing...
|
||||
13. |
Over the Skyline
05:06
|
|||
Two weeks into summer and you wonder why you stayed
As the PVC shower curtain fragrance starts to fade,
It’s just you and me in a suitcase college town.
Two rivulets about to meet our end on higher ground.
You want to go where the action is,
Over the skyline - under the sea.
Side three of Exile over - so high that you can’t move
But no one lifts the needle stuck on the inner groove.
The box fan - it ain't working - somehow we start your car,
Drive out to the country, try to see the stars.
You want to go where the action is,
Over the skyline - under the sea
Over the skyline - under the sea
And I don’t have to work for the last time for a while,
You’ve not found the one who gets you hooked and steals your smile.
We’re lost in the woods where a strip mall’s gonna be,
And your once-upon-a-time is running out of room for me.
You want to go where the action is,
Over the skyline - under the sea.
Over the skyline - under the sea.
|
||||
14. |
It's a Draw (outtake)
06:44
|
|||
Curtains are drawn - I can still see the trash,
A crease in your brow but I’m not gonna ask,
You got something to say, you best get to it fast.
Frayed ends, sparks on a wire,
Worm on the hook needs a breather -- he’s tired.
The haunts are all haunted but I do my best,
I can’t put it down, it’s a habit, I guess,
Slow sip the last shot and and save my regrets,
Underlit faces hang long,
Sunken eyes staring the meat off the bones.
You can stay here if you want to,
Or go home if there's home to go home to.
Reel in the line, everything’s fine.
I asked you in - I made the deal,
Calcified insides - old wounds that don't heal,
Everything blocking the nothing we feel,
Jailer keep jangling the keys,
Torture by rote, it’s a farce, it’s a tease.
Everything I say, everything I do -
Condensates in mid-air and storms over you,
Second-hand’s ticking and sand’s seeping through,
Stagnant, dumb, and corroded,
Twelve-rounds-to-the-end, it’s a draw, we both know it.
They say when you’re lost that it’s best not to move,
Just laugh while the quicksand seeps over your shoes,
You can’t make a choice til there’s something to choose,
A wish fell along with its star,
A worm on a hook and you stay where you are.
|
||||
15. |
'79 (outtake)
01:56
|
If you like Gregory Ellis, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp