Champion City Records Dot Com

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1. some nomad logic [lyrics]
if i don't console myself i'll fall in love with you again
enough skeletal beauty to be a lifeline to some nomad logic i had
that's not to call your shot
that's not to write you out
i can't help but feel you got the better part
to kiss your wrists and lay without the dread of palaces disgraced
little rattler my precious vulture can't we all be makeshift chariots?
go on lay your guard down in the usual places on the fire and on the nightstand
my endless sleeper in the snowdrifts typically i came by hacking sickly
you did not arise
that's not to call your shot that's not to write you out of some fables devised for the drive home
i'm still claiming that i'm deeper than my pockets might suggest
still it's best to resolve this situation with some lines i lifted from a dead scholar's hand
but didn't you figure as much?

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2. little lightning bolt [lyrics]
Crawl the mountain passes to sleep with this
The feeling of steep things collapsing
lock eyes to lock legs, call it beauty
now solitude
See first there's two clipper ships.
Then mirrors refracting endlessly, flags hailing nothing
My little lightning bolt, there are short circuits between things on high
and things crawling the dirt
in little crises
improv escapes to ivory towers deliver us to god's hands on a concrete slab
the forest would eat us alive.

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3. a death in midsummer [lyrics]
on the day that I got home
you were not there
so I bundled up
took my torch to the backwoods
to find you
you had a different plan
on the last day of your life
you knew it so you went to find a place
far so as not to be found again
your bones in the dull light of the crescent moon
i wish them well, peace be with you always
now there's death above our heads
how final it seems
and afterwards everyone made like lightning storms and falling horses
to steal the show
from a death in midsummer

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4. hell money [lyrics]
with baited breath whispers she speaks
says beneath every bedsheet lies oblivion
the elderly loner is christened a saint by his son
he dies a bed death, one the sheet pulls up to cover
so i am climbing through this landscape to eat this placeless fire
while my own death grows through the cracks
a typical midwest gothic calling out
to reach cold islands and windswept coasts
burn the bedsheets you were christened in
someday the ashes will float out to sea
your summer dress locked knees dead pets, the familiar scenery
enough enough. god's printed on celluloid a hot salvation clenched between your teeth.
and what it amounts to? a cop out ending for all ages and all time.

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5. dirge for old girl [lyrics]
casual glances, cold bottles thrown
we are half eaten
we demand abolition
pure and simple
of all that's been, rites to come
when spring rounds
in this town of insects chirping
rattling drones
you can never feel enough
all tightening circles and fireworks
when you play the tired suicide card
you can never make it right
with the purity of foreign blood
sure-lived as the seasons you're forever sleeping somewhere

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