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1. |
Eileen
04:34
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She said without looking that her name was Eileen
Asked me if I wanted coffee I said just leave me be
I've got some time, if you don't mind, I'd like to sit for awhile
Then again without looking
She nodded and she smiled
Wonder what she'd have to say
If someone would let her talk
Wonder if she'd shy away
Or tell you what she thought
Does she know things are not
Always as they seem
Eileen
Took to looking out the window, it was a dusty day
I wondered what I'd have to say had my life gone a different way
With a ticket for the bus, a hundred bucks, this diner I'd found
A borrowed truck, a lot of luck, I might get out of this town
Has she ever laughed so hard
Her sides felt they're gonna split
Has she ever been so mad
To take a swing at you with her fist
Does she see things right or wrong
Or somewhere in between
Eileen
Started walking toward the counter
I felt a little sick
Pulled a pistol from my pocket
Started pointing it
From my right came a blinding light
I suddenly needed a rest
It was a shotgun blast
I heard at last
It left a hole
In my chest
Wonder what she'd have to say
If someone would let her talk
Wonder if she'd shy away
Or tell you what she thought
Now she stands hands on her mouth
Holding back a scream
Hope it does not take too long
To get over
What you just seen
Eileen
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2. |
Hell, 48169
07:02
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Walking down the street, minding my own feet I hear “Hey man, which way is heaven?”
Well I do not know but if you care to go Hell is in Michigan, Hell is in Michigan
You could go there first, do things in reverse, maybe find your destination
It’s worth a try, starting at the end of the line, and Hell is in Michigan, Hell is in Michigan
Neil brought three sandwiches, a couple of drinks, and a tattered old atlas that used to be his dad’s
I said I would drive, the idea was mine, and like bats out of hell we were bound for Michigan
Looking for Heaven
Going to Hell
Looking for Heaven
On our way, we were on our way
To Hell
We hit the road and after an hour or so a hitchhiker appeared in the distance
Pulled up along side, offered him a ride, what the hell his sign read Michigan
He said I am George Reeves, I own a distillery and you look like whiskey is your poison
Take me with you, here’s what I’ll do, it’s a hell of a deal, ten cents a gallon
We drove through the night, it got awful quiet, Neil ate two of the sandwiches
Reeves had a look in his eye, I crossed myself twice, scared as hell, headed for Michigan
Looking for Heaven
Going to Hell
Looking for Heaven
On our way, we were on our way
To Hell
Come dawn’s early light, Hell was in sight, a large crowd down round the mill pond
A revenue man, papers in hand, like the devil searching for the contraband
Reeves jumped right out casting his doubt with the confidence of a confidence man
He said with a smile, easy as a child “There are spirits in hell, but this is Michigan!”
Looking for Heaven
Going to Hell
Looking for Heaven
On our way, we made our way
To Hell
Slinking away, tail between his legs, that tax man he left empty handed
The crowd gave a shout, the whiskey came out, they throw a hell of a party in Michigan
It was sunk two by two, the barrels of booze, in the water right where they were standing
The hangover cleared, Reeves had disappeared, his story just dusty old legend
After a stop in the souvenir shop and with the last of the sandwiches
We set out again, in search of Heaven leaving Hell there back in Michigan
Looking for Heaven
Going to Hell
Looking for Heaven
On our way, we made it back
From Hell
We made it back
We made it back from Hell
Oh we made it back
We made it back from Hell
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3. |
Pieces Of You
05:29
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All of my life
I tried to be true
Turns out the lie
Was trusting in you
Your heart wouldn’t grow
Your love turned to stone
Now that you’ve flown
We’re both all alone
But I can’t move on
Till you’re finally gone
I’m still surrounded by
Pieces of You
You chose a new path
You think it will last
The easy way out
Comes easy to you
Hoping for change
A life rearranged
Look in the mirror
It shows the truth
I can’t move on
Till you’re finally gone
I’m still surrounded by
Pieces of You
I’m still surrounded by
Pieces of You
I watched you go
When I needed you most
This broken body
Couldn’t hold on to you
Now my time is up
Come clean this all up
Throw your pieces away
I leave them to you
So I can move on
When I’m finally gone
No longer surrounded by
Pieces of You
No longer surrounded by
Pieces of You
Pieces of You
Pieces of You
I’m still surrounded by
Pieces of You
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4. |
Pull The Lever Again
04:34
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Like a zombie, pumping those quarters in
High on elevated oxygen
I’m having an argument I can never win
But your opinion
Is my addiction
A lotus for the virtual city of sin
Like the spinning of a slot machine
The constant scrolling of the endless feed
Has confounded my bombarded psyche
An obscenity
This false reality
But deal me in tonight I’m gettin lucky
The stakes are high
It’s a crap shoot every time
Watching the world end
With all my digital friends
Hit refresh
Pull the lever again
In the Vegas airport in the men’s room
Beside every urinal another chance to lose
If you hit the jackpot you’ll have to choose
To drop a few
Or piss on your shoes
The question is which hand will you use
Back at home, my business done
Long after both of my legs have gone numb
Mindlessly twitching one of my thumbs
Getting more dumb
Part of the problem
Betting on distraction against my freedom
The stakes are high
It’s a crap shoot every time
Watching the world end
With all my digital friends
Hit refresh
Pull the lever again
The stakes are high
It’s a crap shoot every time
Watching the world end
With all my digital friends
Hit refresh
Pull the lever again
Pull the lever again
Pull the lever again
Pull the lever again
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5. |
No Rest For The Wicked
04:12
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Sitting on the front porch waiting for the bells
If I ever hear one you know I’ll never tell
Encouraged by the new moon the stars strut and shine
I watch for movement by the headstone lights
Hoping not to hear a sound
Or see shadows on the ground
I live next to the cemetery
In case someone comes around
It’s not that I’m afraid
No, I’m not scared of death
The terrifying thing
Is I might have to come back
I haven’t lived well enough for death to be the end
No rest for the wicked
Amen
No shot at redemption, it’s not a second chance
It is the eternal torment they told you of at mass
But Hell is not some fiery place somewhere down below
Hell is walking on this Earth without your mortal bones
It’s not that I’m afraid
No, I’m not scared of death
The terrifying thing
Is I might have to come back
I haven’t lived well enough for death to be the end
No rest for the wicked
Amen
All the deeds of my life marked down in the ledger
All the X’s fall on the wrong side of the paper
Hoping not to hear a sound
Or see shadows on the ground
I live next to the cemetery
In case someone comes
Around
It’s not that I’m afraid
No, I’m not scared of death
The terrifying thing
Is I might have to come back
I haven’t lived well enough for death to be the end
No rest for the wicked
No rest for the wicked
There’s no rest for the wicked
Amen
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6. |
All My Friends Are Dying
05:20
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Two a.m. on Sunday in the city that never sleeps
The cold of late November quiets city streets
A light falls onto Seventh with the promise of a meal
Dinner a show, one low price, what a steal
Preaching at the counter, pacing up and down
Chasing thoughts in circles his words go round and round
Prohpesizing through the night never finding the answer
A doughnut and a coffee cup, marks of the Brooklyn savior
He says you can call me Jesus like the other fools
But all my friends are dying
What am I to do
Swears to god he won’t go to jail, he’s been there before
Look what happened last time, scars he still wore
She says “you can take that kind of talk out into the cold”
He hangs his head confessing, he’s not so bold
Night shift mother Mary treats him like a child
One not meaning any harm, he’s just a little wild
Pulling not a single punch she lands her advice
“If all you friends are dying, go to them and cry”
Suddenly sitting up a fire back in his eyes
He says “All my friends might do it
I’m not gonna die”
With a snap of my fingers and a wave my hand
Just like that, magic happens
All my friends are dying
But that I refuse to do
You’ll believe in miracles
When I achieve the impossible
But all my friends are dying
So what am I to do?
Two a.m. on Sunday, the city never sleeps
Every night on Seventh Street they replay the same scene
At saving all his dying friends he may be a failure
But there’s always coffee and a seat for the Brooklyn savior
Always coffee and a seat for the Brooklyn savior
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7. |
Dark Day of New England
04:36
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Darkness came at ten a.m.
Candles lit so the Book could be read
Father dropped to his knees and prayed
The cattle returned to the barn
The nightbird sang a mournful song
No evidence now of the recent dawn
What to do about the work to be done
Finish the task or turn and run
Abraham knew how to be found
For surely it has come
Surely it has come
Surely it has come
The end
End of Days
The preacher behind the church door
Overrun with sinner's remorse
Delivers a hurried sermon to the fold
While the Devil serves the tavern drink
To those who embrace debauchery
The Damned are running naked in the street
For surely it has come
Surely it has come
Surely it has come
The end
End of Days
Is this punishment for the lingering war
The blood-soaked ground can take no more
We all thought God was on our side
But now dirty black rain is pouring down
The visible Heavens are all gone
The deadest night since the Birth of Light
Surely it has come
Surely it has come
Surely it has come
The end
End of Days
From Asa down to Zebulon
The lesson learned will not be lost
If we teach the children; make them behave
For surely it will come
Surely it will come
Surely it will come
The end
End of Days
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Turtle Zwadlo Crozet, Virginia
Turtle Zwadlo is a singer-songwriter whose narrative style songs are infused with rock and folk elements, often focusing on social issues. The new release, Cold Comfort: Tales From Whitelandia continues Turtle's DIY experiment and is entirely self produced. ... more
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