1. |
Poacher
04:36
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White tail doe in the back of a chevy
She was stiff and warm and her blood flowed heavy
We dropped her body at the edge of a clearing
And I got wasted in the golden evening
For a sick white man with a perpetual acquittal
Did an awful thing with the lust of a killer
So he cussed the bows and his icicle shelter
And as the wolves began to caw
We could tell that they were dining
For a cool sheet of legal is the law of a hunter
And a ten-cent shell is the spark in the winter
For a trigger-sick sucker with a taste for murder
And a grumble in his gut from a cyclical hunger
For every carnal beast has got his appetite
And the meaner ones travel when the moon is right
And I still jealous of the thrill of flight
That the weaker ones flaunt when the days get bright
And I guess we're looking for a better hollow
Or a backwoods method to return what's borrowed
But when the paper slip, sunken ship, bat shit sorrow
Becomes a supermarket Eden which we start to follow
All the bones of our fathers
make a nest for our corpses
Beneath the dirt we turn
With which we'd bury our leaders
And the stiff-necked, glory whore American theater
Swallows up the vagrants and the minimum wagers
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2. |
Red Mark
04:19
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There is a notice on the door
Which condescends in legal form
That you've got one more chance to pay
or we will send you on your way
without a prayer and draw a red mark by your name.
The bottles confiscate the floor
That old salvation of the poor
The wheel grinds with solid pace and draws on us
a laughing face
before the exhibition of the judge's crooked grace.
And I am paddling
a crooked river spine
and I am gasping for a single breath
of something unpolluted
And I was growing tired
before I ever cut my hands and learned to sing
And should the cold air blow the smoke back to my eyes
I will not weep now
for the sake of anything
That rotten animal of time
bites at my heels and thats just fine
For all I ask is some division of
the tired slums and prisons from
the comfort of my mother's distant home
So now I try to make my way
and I am scavenging this place
for some artifact to sell
because the bank is raising hell
and all I have is just this weapon and its case
And on the seventh day it snowed
it was the first time I got cold
since february of this year
back when all our fickle fears in hibernation
were just ringings in our ears
Does the compass needle sway
when you lose your eyesight and your taste
Collect my money and good luck
to all those sleeping standing up
believing some of us aren't bound
and tricked
and stuck
And I am paddling a crooked river spine
and I am grasping for a single branch
beneath the shoreline
And I was growing tired before I ever cut my hands
and learned to sing
And should the cold air blow the smoke back to my eyes
I will not weep now for the sake
of anything.
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3. |
Grassy Grave
04:42
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Yes I am following blindly the song of my father
As do the beasts and the flock,
Yeah, I guess we're the same
And yes, I was speaking to others while sleeping
Don't bother
Grabbing my shoulder and shaking the spirits away
And Lord, I was dreaming of grassy graves out in the dog pen
The place where I fell from the aspen and opened my skin
And out from the blood in the soil came the soul of my old friend
Started licking the dirt from my leg as I clung
As I clung, as I clung on to him
So here we go, making our way
Across the ridge of the mountain
The ambulance lights and the ambient light
Burn the air, burn the streets, burn us all so well
And being so young, I was scared for the life I was losing, losing, losing, oh
Though so softly my parents spoke
adding up hospital bills
As I saw the whites of my bones glistening in the tiny room
I saw for the first time, the dangers which eagerly crept
They stuck me with needles so long, I could feel their hands trembling
As I sat in wonder as my brother and my mother wept
Then out from the severed veins
And onto the linens came
These little red devils singing
"Come on friends, we have escaped!"
Then came the sterile rag
Brushing them all away
Somewhere they still carry on
Somewhere in the deepest drain
Somewhere in the deepest drain
Somewhere near the grassy grave
Somewhere in the deepest drain
They all stand, hands entwined, and they all still sing,
"Come now, come on, move on, its not the end
Come now, come on, wake up, you're not dead yet
Come now, come on, move on, its not the end
Come now, you're not dead quite yet my friend!"
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4. |
Fools
04:42
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Tried to cure that old viscous cancer with
Your granddad's indian medicine but
But it ate you, never gave you a chance
We went on laughing
We went on bitching just the same
Oh factory yard, oh pair of thieves
The same
I've been a mess
I've missed the death of
My mother's mother's mother
Away in California
From states away, apparently
She asked the Lord to care for me
She prayed as I was still afraid
I tried to see her
Tried to picture her face
I'll never know the way she looked
As the blood stopped cold inside her veins
So if I die before I wake
And the fragile, fickle cell give way
And the scene appears before me in
The fashion of the oldest days
I will beg You to remember me
And cuss myself on broken knees
Or maybe rot away beneath
A hundred other fools like me
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5. |
C'est La Vie
05:02
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So all of us are bound together
Tied together, stuck forever
Sleeping in our beds just short enough
Our feet exposed, we're cold enough
To bundle up and let the cold seep in
And we're coughing and we're shivering
All praying for deliverance
Caught up in what we're swimming in
Upstream to something easy
Choking on the shit we're breathing in
It's all collapsing, think on it, where you went wrong
I'm saving my saliva, cookie crumbs, my lovely lies
for better times, and better tries
Someday I'll get it right
Someday I'll get it
For now, I'll ante up, empty my cup
Quit looking up to anyone
Or any stuck and tired phantom
That's enough, oh that's enough
That's enough to show me my position
exorcism, lost conviction
Oh, I was a lover of the chase
Before that bit of grace was spent
On coffee, cigarettes and drugs
That moticam of careless love
I spent it all on something sinking in the sewers
But for now I'll watch my clothing fade
The grand parade, the masquerade
The mothball in the cupboard
I've been saving for a rainy day
The mothball in the cupboard
I've been saving for a rainy day
The mothball in the cupboard
I was standing on the street
The ice and snow under my feet
Beneath the rows of planted trees
Who's pretty leaves had fled the scene
A month before
And all them people in their doorways
Made their way down to the grocery stores
And up the road
Into the office buildings where they worked
And I joined in along
In silent song beside them
Cursing our vocation, dreaming up vacations
From them old bus stations
I'm working for the mass production
And the gumption of that introduction
From that suit or uniform
That shapes you into any form they need
To make somebody work from dawn to dusk
They'll care enough about your welfare
When you cut yourself, break your limbs
Or grab your chest
And fall onto the floor
The paperwork is piling up and your heart attack
Is documented and filed along with the rest of them
So now I'm down by the train tracks
Down by the smoke stacks
Sad saps, and the power plants
That old Cherokee factory
and the Wyatt Towing Company
I give one hundred dollars
To the man behind the desk
Who just would not accept a check
Or even listen to my pitiful laments
God knows he's heard it all before
But I'm no different
So I'll make a partial payment
And move on down the frozen pavement
And I do not feel ashamed
That I am sick of saying c'est la vie
I do not feel that I am any wiser
For the things I've seen
But maybe wisdom comes with age
And maybe those with fortunes fade
While we who live to die
Are in possession of some kinder fate
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6. |
Good Heart
04:30
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I've got a good heart
I've got it good, I've
Been told to tuck away
Tuck away the bad parts
I've got an old soul
Wrapped up with white bows
I've got no outlet for these bold hopes
So I'll let go
I'll let go
I dug a deep hole
Into the forest floor
And I did fill it up
Filled it up with gold and coal
I have a few goals
I'll abdicate my roles
And maybe find myself a dictum
That cannot be sold
Cannot be sold
My conversation's weaker
Than it has ever been
That convoluted structure of love
Is robbed again
I've got a good heart
I've got it good, start
At the beginning and
Circumvent the bad parts
I've got an old soul
Harboring modern ghosts
Dont think they'll ever hit the road though
So I'll let go
I'll let go
My conversation's weaker
Than it has ever been
That convoluted structure of love
Is robbed again
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7. |
Pinecones & The War
05:07
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I learned to ride my bicycle
in the parking lot of church
Just east of town
The only place we knew to go
The only place with asphalt on the ground
Pedaled up the twisted gravel roads
From our solitary home
To find the woman on the hill top
In the big house all alone
Oh, we could see for miles
Almost brushed the underbellies of the clouds
And when A tree fell in the forest
You could bet it'd make a resonating sound
Up past the graveyard by the fence
To which we added all the bone
The magpie in the tallest pine
Snatched up the mice from thistles overgrown
We heaved a thousand pinecones
just as far as our small arms could throw
Towards the monster in the mountain's
gaping mouth made up of snow
We never got him, but the war went on
regardless of the foe
We waited till the fire came
To swallow everything in smoke
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Anthony Ruptak Denver, Colorado
Anthony Ruptak is a Colorado-based musician who writes and performs his original work with a simple mission: to explore the effects of the human condition. His music ranges from vulnerable acoustic performances to raucous and maximalist multi-instrumental experiences, with his intricate lyrics always at the forefront. Ruptak has been performing in Denver for over 15 years. ... more
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