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There’s smoke coming off the stove top range as another deal goes down
I offer my acquaintance something to eat, but she says she’s not sticking around
It’s getting harder to miss your old sweet kiss this far down in the ground
For every dollar in my liver, you’d think by now I woulda bought this whole damn town
Daddy’s picture sits on a window sill, crowded by words unspoke
He grew up on the river, kept his wits sharp, and knew how to rosin a bow
Well if dear old dad could hear me now I know it’d hurt him so
Just a sad young man with a broken heart in his hands and no boat on no river to row
But every night I’m out, working on songs, hangin’ em on the wall by a nail
And even if the eyelashes at the bar are fake, the tears falling are real
Yeah I’m in a band, and it’s when I can stand up burning and strong
We try our best, bullshit the rest, and love it when you sing along
This crooked stage is our place, it knows our names, the lights cast a vibe to ride on
Out of every corner of that old bar crawls a handshake, a story, and a song
And every night we’re out, working on songs, hangin’ em on the wall by a nail
And even if the eyelashes at the bar are fake, the tears falling are real
Then it’s back to whatever you call this, smoking out the window, watching it hail
Made enough last night to try my luck, put together some kind of meal
I just wanna pay my bills, keep it real, and stay out of jail
As long as the band sticks around I’ll be too busy to make it, but working too steady to fail
And every night we’re out, working on songs, hangin’ em on the wall by a nail
And even if the eyelashes at the bar are fake, the tears falling are real
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Rain keeps falling outside my room
My thoughts are woven threads on a loom
is it summer time? I can't take wetness too
I love this place when no one's around
Attracted to each hum pop & sound
The floor boards creaking cause' I'm just sneaking around
All my plants have names that start with J
I try to sing to them each day
When no one's around
I love my friends so don't get me wrong
It's hard for me to work on my songs
I get anxious when there's people plodding along
So here's a joke I tell to myself
Why'd the orange care for his health
You see he wasn't peeling very well
And all my plants have names that start with J
I try to sing to them each day
When no one's around
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Saw it in the sky like a neon storm
Watched it from the field
Father said it was God's fire
The flaming sword of Jophiel
Strike down the wicked
Bring them to their knees
We the righteous would see their bounty
And they sinful would burn hotter than a prairie fire
They say all a man has is his land
But my father also had a debt
Passed down like a family heirloom
And he also had an anger
My mother could see it
Though she didn't turn around to his finger on the trigger
As she walked out the door
His eyes were burning like a prairie fire
If fire is a sign of God's Glory
(Then) we were living in the light of the holy
Burning bank letters
A smoking gun
Just one shot to make the officer run
Propane seeping into the floorboards
Lumber piled up against the front door
The photos curled inside their frames
As my father held me down against the flames
When they pulled me out
They wouldn't let me watch
As the house turned to cinder
But when the fields went up
I saw the sky dance red and gold
from the prairie fire.
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Don't you step into the rabbit hole
For if you bust a leg
We'll have no choice except to put you down.
In the prairie skyline paradise
Many miles from Winnipeg
You'll rest beneath a quiet, unmarked mound.
The world it will go on
Whether you are here or not
So let it go.
Leave it as you came
Can't take your fortune or your fame
So let it go.
Let it go.
Pay no mind to the rattlesnakes
With whom you share a bed
They're only looking out just for their own.
In the quiet, aching twilight
When your eyes are growing red
Fading with the distant life you know.
And the world it will go on
Whether you are here or not
So let it go.
Leave it as you came
No guarantee you'll leave a name
When you go.
So let it go.
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7. |
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The wind would disagree
That the storm is after me
brace yourself as a civic duty
ARE WE UNDERWATER HAVE THE WATERS RISEN
WHAT A STRANGE THING
ARE WE BREATHING
Is it a flood are we
afloat in our own neighbourhood
I’ve always wanted to feel useful but
I thought I never could
These days in my terror dreams
I’m told over and over
Don’t feel special
ARE WE UNDERWATER HAVE THE WATERS RISEN
WHAT A STRANGE THING
ARE WE BREATHING
Walking on the sidewalks
Everybody we meet is a decision:
Immediate, emotive in its distance,
Gleaned from body language
Who draws first
Who moves into an empathetic nod
A rare hey, hard times, weird times,
end times, what is time
Who turns into a twitch of a smile
A weaving in and out of pity or longing or guilt or aversion
Away from eye contact like the contagion is in the earned glance
In the dream, in the street
Don’t hold a dream too close
don’t touch anyone
I knew that it would happen
I thought it would be years from now
The end of end time talk
We must walk the end time walk
Don’t think you’re special.
ARE WE UNDERWATER HAVE THE WATERS RISEN
WHAT A STRANGE THING
WHAT IS HAPPENING
We stood inside until
We became the windowsills
Spring as a metaphor
is not working anymore
ARE WE UNDERWATER HAVE THE WATERS RISEN
WHAT A STRANGE THING
ARE WE BREATHING
ARE WE UNDERWATER HAVE THE WATERS RISEN
WHAT A STRANGE THING
ARE WE BREATHING
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8. |
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The evening comes,
My inhibitions they drift in violent ways,
Unknown horizons,
My inhibitions they drift,
A violent haze.
Darling, I can take no more.
One by one,
Feather by feather,
Your lost inside my maze,
Day by day,
Feather by feather
Your dreams inside my cage,
Darling, I can take no more,
Maybe I can take one more.
One by one,
Feather by feather,
You're naked by design I made.
Darling, I could take one more,
Maybe I could take them all,
Darling, I can break them all
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9. |
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11. |
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poor old landslide come collide with me
the burden of relying on the shore defines the sea
any time you make it sing you don't have to tell
all the politicians ominous as the bottom of the well
[ch]
right on time there's no more love for me
you legislate the hundredth time
but i don't care what landslides believe
broken landslide your fever's 103
there's a hand-me-down that i have found to feed a hungry industry
born in pain well pay your bills ain't got time they're gunning still
oh landslide your old technique to undermine our will
[ch]
& idle crow, high or low, they're free
rolling down the final hills
i don't roll – the landslide covers me
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14. |
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Tell me how could I envy
Tell me what could I need
In all this impermanence
It'll all be debris
Tell me how could I hope
And for what would that be?
What some call a bad day
she calls defeat
Just know
Know what you've done
you've mastered the art of losing someone
Just know
know what you've done
who would master the art of losing someone?
Call me in conflict
call it a lie
call it a syncope
call it what you like
what callous
recited lines
I am a novice
but baby I try
Tell me how could I envy
Tell me what could I need
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In Basements On Sundays is an Intimate musical presentations of the finest songwriters etc. from Toronto and beyond. Every Sunday 7pm-9pm at Wenona Craft Beer Lodge.
Normally.
With bars and events being shut down, the In Basements crew wanted to continue providing a space for our community to share songs. Hence the In Basements mixtape: In Isolation.
The rules are simple. Record a song (or many songs) using only the instruments and gear in your home, and send it along. It will then be mastered and put up here. This project runs as long as the current situation does.
