24th May 2012

Text with 2 notes

14th Floor

Here’s a little song gonna save me from my heart ache
Stay a little while and we’ll see the sound that light makes

Drink past the bottle and into the can
white counts are rising but you’re not a dead man.
If they put you on lock down and turn me out
the ward’s so quiet but I’ll have to shout.

Here’s a little song gonna save me from my heart ache.
Go a little while and we’ll see the sound that light makes.
At ground open doors, down from the 14th floor
the filthy city air in I breathe.
It could all make me ill, so I’ll stand very still
you know I hate, hate to leave.

With a beer standing stagnant in the bottle in my hand
who wants to party without their main man?
So a toast to the memory of a life we chose
two years now till you can get hosed.

Here’s a little song gonna save me from my heart ache.

- One Hundred Dollars

Tagged: one hundred dollarsregional 7 inch

2nd May 2012

Text with 1 note

Black Gold

We flock and pump our pennies in the sick VLT glow, with our feathers slick with oil there ain’t nowhere we can go but the twenty brand new barrooms that they built just for our kind.  Yeah, we’re dirty and ugly and hard to refine as the sands that we dig three hours from closing time. And I’d not been one to gamble till the day I reached the Fort - Pipelines run through my pockets, my desires they distort. There’s a voice in my head tellin’ me I should fold, but the ring around my finger is made of black gold.

Teresa sets the standard, long legs clothed in shear black hose.  She can charge 300 higher and her business never slows. In our arms she bluffs the lovin’ of our wives left out of sight, cuz us workin’ men need workin’ girls to work us through the night. There’s a voice on the line I keep putting on hold, she says my spitting image is spitting up he’s getting on, he’s getting old. And a voice in my head tellin’ me I should fold, but the ring around my finger is made of black gold.

It’s 2 gallons burned for every one that we earn but the smoke in the sky I’d renege. You’ve got to play to win, I bid myself, my next of kin.  Over all the game is rigged. There’s a voice in my head tellin’ me I should fold, but the ring around my finger is made of black gold. And there’s no going back, long the highway’s been sold and the rings round our fingers are made of black gold. 

It’s two gallons burned for every one that we earn. It’s two gallons burned for everyone.

- One Hundred Dollars (Ian Russel, Simone Schmidt)

Tagged: one hundred dollars

2nd May 2012

Text with 2 notes

Ties That Bind

As steady as I’ve lasted here, I’ve wished I could be gone. But look above in the clear skies no stars to wish upon.  People in the city scrape the darkness from the sky, they crush it in a powder and they take it inside.  If you’ve got no ties that bind you, boys, be off and on your way!  If you’ve got no ties that bind you boys, I bid you don’t delay!

Now I was lured by asphalt too, young like you and sniffing gold, for my father’s fields they faltered and were sold for a penny all told. The first tie was her auburn hair, the strength between her thighs, and the second tie her mortared dreams, now the third in silence lies.  If you’ve got no ties that bind you, boys, be off and on your way!  If you’ve got no ties that bind you boys, I bid you don’t delay!

Oh what a picture in that yard, our young in sprinklers playing. But just a picture of that yard for in a flat now I’m staying.  How we labored for that brownstone but there was something in the pipes, and the water it ran to tumor, now the tumor it took my wife.  Speak not of philodendron, I know nothing of the wild, but I’ve lived long where there’s no grass- it must be greener on the other side. If you got no ties that bind you, boys, be off and on your way!  It’s a wisdomless will that stays here boys I bid you, don’t delay!

- One Hundred Dollars (Ian Russel, Simone Schmidt)

Tagged: one hundred dollarssongs of man