Get all 3 Turtle Zwadlo releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Cold Comfort: Tales From Whitelandia, Suburban Rebel, and Drunken Squirrel Diet.
1. |
Paradise Lost
05:29
|
|||
|
Everything in the garden grows higher than her head
Lilac and sunflowers, wisteria gone mad
Beans climbing strings, berries in baskets
She’s at peace with the bees, if not the yellow jackets
Naming the butterflies that visit every day
It’s her place to escape her front yard interstate
She used to sit on the porch at night watching the old road
Making up tales about the drivers and destinations unknown
Now lights shine through her windows, shadows travel the walls.
There’s no sleeping in the bedroom so she moved it down the hall
Throwing stones from the steps she can hit the inside lane
It’s not going anywhere, her front yard interstate
The view from atop her lonely hill was nothing short of majestic
How she loved a sunrise that would give faith to a skeptic
The glare off of a windshield holds no inspiration
And she’ll never be alone again with her concrete and steel companion
Nothing she could do, except move away
Now she spends her days with a front yard interstate
Yes, she took the money. It was the least they could do
For bringing in the big machines, leaving her landscape ruined
She’s never going to spend it, that would be wrong
She’ll just leave it for the kids living in Vermont
Trying to find some peace, inside her paradise lost
Trying harder not to breathe too much diesel exhaust
Sitting in her garden she can make believe
The world is not rushing by just below her feet
No longer cares who they are, why they’re in a hurry
The butterflies and the bees tell the better story
If she had to do it all again she would not hesitate
To tell them where they could put that front yard interstate
If she had to do it all again she would not hesitate
To tell them where they could stick that front yard interstate
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
Butch got the message
And it’s keeping her vexed
What he does now is anyone’s guess
She gives him just enough grief
Gets him moving his questioning feet
Far enough away from just enough trouble
With the truth in one hand; a gun in the other
There’s a fat Tom Sellek singing Judas Priest covers
The walls are plastered with old vinyl records
I see your framed Hendrix and raise you a Johnny Cash
It’s an odd oasis in a universe that’s fading fast
An odd oasis where the world ends at last
Butch got the message
But we’re not waiting here long
Our approximate deadline is coming fast and strong
The bronze bell diver’s watch has stopped
The caged bird doesn’t see the clock
There’s still enough light and it’s a good enough offer
To risk a look inside the coffers
There’s a fat Tom Sellek singing Judas Priest covers
The walls are plastered with old vinyl records
I see your framed Richards and raise you a Johnny Cash
It’s an odd oasis in a universe that’s fading fast
An odd oasis where the world ends at last
Butch got the message
He replied “No answer”
Still living with his wing tip dancer
Calling the bluff of our royal flush omen
With kaleidoscope vision of a neon shaman
Close enough to god, far enough gone
To wade knee deep into the storm
Now the lights are going down in a decrescendo
The theme song plays from Art Deco radios
I see your framed Dylan and raise you one John Prine
It’s an odd oasis here at the end of the line
An odd oasis here at the end of the line
An odd oasis and now we’re out of time
|
||||
3. |
Raven's Roost
04:55
|
|||
|
When it turns into a panic there is safety in the numbers
Finding comfort in the chaos and in the din
At first they never notice, then it just gets awkward
As claustrophobia starts to settle in
Then it’s too many people and too much damage
Out on the street the hassle never ends
Gotta get out of this city, go someplace quiet
But people still scream any place that they’re in
When it turns into a panic I do what I’ve practiced
Tell myself this time won’t end ending bad
Up here on Raven’s Roost, high above the valley
Back myself slowly away from the edge
Such a vast distance and so much beauty
There’d be enough time to both cry and make amends
Gotta get back to the city, there’s unfinished business
In the morning calling anyone still listed as a friend
When it turns into a panic in the middle of my own kitchen
Dizzy from memory breaking free from the maze
The small amount of dishes standing lonely in the drainer
Reminds me how much there was left to say
Table so tiny, still too many chairs
Cushions show barely any wear at all
Not that I can’t live without you; I didn’t want to have to
Sometimes it slams me straight into the wall
Sometimes it slams me straight into the wall
When it turns into a panic you’re still the one I hope for
With your secret ways of calming me down
Go to the closet, put on your sweater
Find some shoes; shuffle round this town
Obey the signals at every street corner
It’s nice having someone telling me what to do
When it turns into a panic I start praying for directions
But I don’t believe in god until I do
I don’t believe in god
Until I do
I know too many people don’t have enough friends
Acquaintances only pass the time
When it turns into a panic they can’t comprehend
How it hurts to know how much it hurts to be missing you
How it hurts to know how much it hurts to be missing you
How it hurts to know how much it hurts
How it hurts to know how much it hurts
How it hurts to know how much it hurts
To be missing you
|
||||
4. |
Gunshots and Chaos
06:24
|
|||
|
They’ll say Frankie went and got drunk again
She’ll have to tell them it’s not true
She used to hand out reasons for why he drank
Now he doesn’t need an excuse
It was no surprise that he went and got the gun
But the boy who’d cried wolf had suddenly grown up
Mary wondered how she missed it
Lying there listening to their song
Maybe she took his love for granted
Maybe they’d been at this too long
Now she could make out in fine detail
Her blood pooling around her dying hope
Now she noticed for the first time
How the kitchen floor was sloped
Funny how it’s the little things
That add up to make up a life
Funny what you find to think about
On the last long drive
There’s a load of clothes in the laundry
It’ll sit too long and start to mold
The kids will be coming home from school
They’ll have to be stopped and be told
Will Frankie make it up to them by getting a cat
If he does will it disappear just like the rest
There go the upstairs neighbors
With their cursing and stomping around
Down below it’s deathly quiet
Even with an ear to the ground
Frankie’s gonna worry over shining his shoes
Most of the rest of the day
But he never seems to be bothered
By how badly his pants have frayed
Funny how it’s the little things
That add up to make up a life
Funny what you find to think about
On the last long drive
Mary saved a box of letters
It’s hidden underneath the bed
It’s been years since it’s been opened
Some things are better left unsaid
She knows the saying “God is Love”
Is all the more true in reverse
All of the secrets of the universe
Trapped in three little words
Funny how it’s the little things
That add up to make up a life
Funny what you find to think about
On the last long drive
Frankie, oh Frankie
Who is that pounding on our door
Can’t you get up to get it
My legs don’t want to work anymore
Easy now to see in hindsight
All the foreshadowing
Thirty years later and gunshots
And chaos
And love lost
To the cycle
Of violence
With it’s breaking
Promise
All the wailing
Of sirens
And praying
To Jesus
And a drunkard’s
Penance
Somehow became the same old things
That made up the end of this life
Funny what you find to think about
On the last long drive
On the last long drive
On the last long drive
|
||||
5. |
Mrs. Never Speaks
06:24
|
|||
|
Grandmother’s gondola swing
Lilly white; deepest green
Rhythmic squeaks
All purpose grease
Hypnotic in the August heat
Grandfather’s garden collage
String beans; summer squash
A four door Dodge
In the two car garage
A chain link fence frames the mirage
Living in the shadow of the steeple
Open the doors. See all the people
Sings the hymns
Confessing her sins
Prays for a seat at the table
Mrs. Never Speaks
Hoping someone sees
She wants to shout
Nothing comes out
So she suffers silently
A husband, a house, then kids
Suburban dream sequence
Learns to forget
Growing regret
For this perfectly hollow existence
With a man who’s unavailable emotionally
Like they raised their kids to be
She cooks and cleans
They watch t.v.
She cries all alone when she’s lonely
Mrs. Never Speaks
Hoping someone sees
She wants to shout
Nothing comes out
So she suffers silently
Did they do dysfunctional wrong?
Where is the idyllic bloody bond?
Filled with shame
Invisible pain
(Because) They don’t even know her at all
Mrs. Never Speaks
Hoping someone sees
She wants to shout
Nothing comes out
So she suffers silently
She wants to shout
Nothing comes out
She Cries all alone when she’s lonely
|
||||
6. |
Back From The War
04:03
|
|||
|
Leslie decided to end the fight
A leap of faith, a chance to survive
Letting go of doubt held for so long
Coming to believe every life has a song
Authentic voice longing to be heard
Above the noise soaring like a bird
When Leslie left for the war
We all wondered what it was for
No one wonders anymore
Since Les came back from the war
Come up from the catacombs no need to hide
Make a stand leave the lies behind
Life is not a game to be played in the dark
Shine the light waiting in your heart
When Leslie left for the war
We all wondered what it was for
No one wonders anymore
Since Les came back from the war
Les came back from the war
Too many people living in their camouflage
Make believe normalcy reflecting the mirage
Speak your truth, shatter the illusion
Reveal a life beautifully human
When Les came back from the war
We all cheered, the whole crowd roared
There’s no wondering anymore
When Les came back from the war
We all cheered, the whole crowd roared
No one wonders anymore
(Since) Les showed up for the war
Les showed up for the war
Les went and won the goddamn war
|
||||
7. |
Not Jesus
04:01
|
|||
|
Not Jesus has a tale to tell
He wants you to listen well
Lessons earned from generations come before him
In this world of fear and strife
If he can change just one life
Not Jesus is not not an answer
Not Jesus slept like a baby at night
The kind that cries til morning light
Caught between the stress and the strain of being a savior
The weight of the cross kept him down
Upon his head a thorny crown
Til he laid them down and learned what it means to suffer
His burden cast upon the ground
The old guard wailed and thrashed about
Set upon the masses to execute their warfare
Empathy a fleeting whim
Compassion become the cardinal sin
They’re scared of the scarcity manufactured
They wanted him to begin again
Not Jesus wondered where will it end
How would he win when the people need their martyrs?
Under the weight on bended knee
Unanswered faith failed to speak
Left on his own Not Jesus took back his power
Enough is enough, not one more
Truth cannot be ignored
He was not put here to use for our amusement
Not for him to carry the load
That frees us all from the weight of our own
We only mean to bury him with that baggage
Dismantle this hierarchy
Build the Beloved Community
Peace and Love together born of a dream
Peace and Love together
Peace and Love together
Peace and Love together born of a dream
Not Jesus has a tale to tell
We should all listen well
Lessons earned from generations come before us
|
||||
8. |
Bones
04:51
|
|||
|
Suffer obesity up the stairs
Wheezing obscenities, nobody cares
A hard rubber mallet and a carton of smokes
Ordinary items of regular folks
Nothing to see here, move along
Move along
Move along
Altered reality in a box
Missing society, check the locks
Never an issue getting inside
Really quite easy for a man of your size
Surprise, surprise bring the hammer down
You bring it down
Bring it down
They question mortality you give them the test
Subjective morality doing your best
Turn up the volume, finish the show
Everything hinges on who gets the rose
When it all over, that’s a heavy load
A heavy load, a heavy load
A heavy load, that’s a heavy load
When it’s all over
That’s a heavy load
You thought, you thought you had a way with it
Look at you now, looking innocent
Half the last laugh was a flip of the script
Trash bin vultures found your secret
You thought, you thought you got away with it
Look at you now, looking innocent
Well half the last laugh was a flip of the script
When trash bin vultures found your secret
Because they take all the meat
But leave the bones
Leave the bones, leave the bones
Leave the bones, they leave the bones
Oh they take all the meat
Leave the bones
|
||||
9. |
Tapestry
03:42
|
|||
|
Whenever someone says
“Do you remember when?”
I just smile and nod
Try a little laugh
Tailor my response
Refrain from using names I don’t recall
Though I know the face
I cannot pinpoint time or place
A tapestry in the sun color has begun to fade
Learning little truths
Is like finding four dollars
In the pocket of a coat
I haven’t worn in two years
It’s a nice surprise
Hardly worth the time
I’m gonna keep them
But I will call them mine
Something just for me for awhile
A tapestry on the wall will fray and fall away
You said “I will be right here
To keep you off the ledge”
Thats before we knew
I wasn’t coming back...
The twilight of our years
Hand in hand on different paths
I see the ocean not each water drop
Here from the shoreline I only see the top
Watching all these waves spill their grains of sand
Why not melt them down? Turn them into glass
Replace the tapestry with a window pane
Fill our pockets full of stones
Waiting for The Day
Fill our pockets full of stones
Waiting for The Day
To smash the pane away
Smash it away
To smash the pain away
|
||||
10. |
||||
|
Peter the disciple by the roadside selling bibles
From the back of a creepy white van
Deep in Mississippi; this is where he should be
Spread the message far across the land
A pop-up for the sunshine, “FREE” painted on a sign
Made with his own shaking hand
The good book might be missing from your personal collection
And there’s plenty in the back of Peter’s van
When the truck stop told him to leave he set up across the street
Sinners love to drive the interstate
Watching heathens come and go, ready for to save a soul
The good lord told him just to sit and wait
He’s got a creepy white van and the doors are open wide
All he wants from you is a look inside
If you do he will show you paradise
But it’s not gonna be what you had in mind
Bought himself a folding chair, a second one for you to share
Books to read if you believe in signs
The way may be mysterious but Peter is experienced
All his favorite parts he has memorized
Calling on the curious to take the scripture serious
Salvation’s hanging on the line
When you’re feeling good and lost, in need of savior and a flock
Seek the van; Peter will provide
He’s got a creepy white van and the doors are open wide
All he wants from you is a look inside
If you do he will show you paradise
But it’s not gonna be what you had in mind
The sinking feeling in your chest is the devil breathing down your neck
Armageddon process on the rise
If you need further proof, it’s in the van, there’s your truth
You’ll believe what you see with your own eyes
He’s got a creepy white van and the doors are open wide
All he wants from you is a look inside
If you do he will show you paradise
But it’s not gonna be what you had in mind
No. It’s not gonna be what you had in mind
Peter the disciple by the roadside selling bibles
From the back of a creepy white van
|
||||
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
Turtle Zwadlo recommends:
You wouldn't think a Minnesota band could be so swampy. A solid album top to bottom.
go to album
See Here, I Have Built You A Mansion (Rare and Unreleased Songs)
by Josh Ritter
Josh Ritter is one of the great wordsmiths of our time. If you like this you owe it to yourself to listen to his entire catalog.
go to album
Bug Fixes & Performance Improvements
by Brian Dunne
A friend recently introduced me to Brian's songs and I can't stop listening.
go to albumIf you like Turtle Zwadlo, you may also like:
The Old Man the Boat
by The Madeleines
Riding the line between indie pop and psychedelic folk, the songs on the latest from The Madeleines are as gorgeous as they are mysterious.
go to album
Rundgren-esque rock with big hooks and a hint of the baroque, recommended for fans of Jon Brion and post-Kill Rock Stars Elliott Smith.
go to album
Stuck in the Aching Again
by Fur Trader
L.A. singer-songwriter Andrew Pelletier goes full on Gene Clark with some woozy effects on this latest EP.
go to album
