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Still Life

by The New Warden

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1.
Jeanbreaker 02:40
Last night I took the old way home Past the place I used to know Where I misspent my youth and learned how to live alone I count my blessings on one hand It seems like a lifetime ago since I put arm through the glass of the back door twenty-four stitches and the scars to prove that I'm above that trash Sneaking out the window to meet girls and light off fireworks or just to breathe without asking first to count my sins and my few wins, or to drag my name through the dirt I count my blessings on one hand I know these streets well enough to walk them blind I tip my hat to simpler times to count my sins and my few wins and to drag my name through the dirt
2.
This star next to my nametag doesn't mean a thing to me I'm just a smile and a nod With elbow grease and youth decreased jammed into place a jigsaw piece a big fish in a shrinking sea Keep in mind this kind of shit, it happens all the time and if we ever tow the line, it's because there's no one but us and if this sinking ship prevails in showing that we are worthless oh, heaven, help us all When it's time for the piper to get paid you give me the wink and the gun, let me dig my basement grave My paperless curse may be my saving grace, if I can detach my heart from the tribes of my summer faith Keep in mind this kind of shit, it happens all the time and if we ever tow the line, it's because there's no one but us and if this sinking ship prevails in showing that we are worthless oh, heaven, help us all Heaven help us When it's my time I'll leave them in better hands than mine
3.
Oh St. Jude, won't you find me? A lost cause somewhere in between Waltham and Fenway. It's a long walk home, my steps are slow; the streetlights are turning off for the night and I've got miles left to go. And it's a long walk home. And that barroom was just as jammed as a fresh pack of cigarettes. I shook myself loose and stumbled out for a smoke in the night and a break from the crowd. Well, you know that once I start drinking I'm not much for judging distances. Saw Lansdowne bar crowds in front of me. Felt fight or flight and beat a swift retreat. Pounding pavement for block after block, counting steps and progress slow. Dawn's breaking free of the Pike out East and I've got miles left to go. And all my worst habits defined a course, from overpass to overpass, described on a plumb line; down-bound in precision measured increments. That's the way it's always been.
4.
Orc Life 01:45
Caught in the middle of a shit-storm blackout Communication never was so easy, and yet so hard Boomers hanging on to shredded threads Generation X is so depressed and the Y's are entertained by new machines exchanging all their dreams for animated friends and I can see the end Whatever was on the wall before doesn't matter anymore Painted over and long forgotten and just like us, History is rotting Boomers hanging on to shredded threads Generation X is so depressed and the Y's are entertained by new machines exchanging all their dreams for animated friends and I can see the end
5.
Last night there was a big, big storm and every time lightning would strike we'd yell 'that's the end of the world over there' if you were home there'd be someone to assure You say it's not me, it's just the season for freedom but I don't believe in the words that come out of your mouth One day I'm gonna wakeup gonna find out it's a sick, sick joke you've been playing on me all along despite the hurricanes you have always been the calm You say it's not me, it's just the season for freedom but I don't believe in the words that come out of your mouth it's a sick, sick joke that you've been playing on me Hurricanes You say it's not me, it's just the season for freedom but I don't believe in the words that come out of your mouth it's a sick, sick joke that you've been playing on me
6.
Still Life 02:34
I can't hardly wait for this street-worn snow to fail The cold, sharp knife of January nights is laughing at my neck I can't hardly wait I'm chomping at the bit take me off the leash of the dead season and we wait, and we wait Winter winds do little but remind me that these apartment walls are paper thin Rationing the dwindling dreams to get me through to the thaw It makes it a little easier listening to summer songs Crossing off the weeks until the old man calls it quits shows us some respect and lets us live I can't hardly wait I'm chomping at the bit take me off the leash of the dead season Winter winds do little but remind me that these apartment walls are paper thin Rationing the dwindling dreams to get me through to the thaw It makes it a little easier listening to summer songs The still life is over
7.
Shithole by any other name wouldn't fit these streets bad habits bequeathed from generation to generation through cracks in concrete while a failing heart works beneath the city Spoken in silent nods and shifting eyes empty words making a pathetic excuse for small town pride One day I know the tide will Wash it all away I'm sure that the land will thank the water for the favor of sinking the peninsula to the ocean floor Familiar egos entrenched since delinquents roamed these streets and called them home with the archaic sense that we own that which we were born into responsible for the mess that grew I'm not exempt from the rules just ashamed that I'm a part of you Wash it all away I'm sure that the land will thank the water for the favor of sinking the peninsula to the ocean floor We all suffer from fairly regular delusions of mediocrity and hopes that we might leave our little towns behind with no record of our lies I'll see you all on the ocean floor
8.
Paper Trails 02:22
Writing after the page has been torn out no doubt is the hardest thing I've ever done Now I stare at a blank page future without a story to tell Scrawls in the sand of a never ending drought dust weighed pound for pound there's luggage from London I've forgotten about On paper, you live like salt in the wound ticket stubs, letters and your missing shoes, paper trails to nowhere Despite our plans and history there'll be no stories left to tell so I bid you a fond farewell You left me no options but to pack my words and run
9.
Black Hearts 02:36
I can't comprehend the chants and incantations the white-knuckle grip on the talismans that let them sleep at night So well-rehearsed at manipulating chapter and verse Conviction in a fiction, untested and unquestioned Black hearts, the mold you were cut from wasn't so empty and scared Black hearts, denying the rage in your soul As TV crews came to document a protest around a flag-draped casket I saw a shit-spewing horde holding signs and chanting slogans Preaching all of their perversions as camera's apertures swallowed the scene Descending on a family, preying on their grief Black hearts, the mold you were cut from wasn't so empty and scared Black hearts, denying the rage in your soul I hope your doctrine lands on salted soil I hope its roots shrivel and die There'll be no eulogies for your kind
10.
Compass Rose 02:31
Plot your course, set your sail for exotic winds across the waves Dreaming of distant shores, wanna leave the sands of home One things for sure, you're gonna sail these seas alone Rope 'em in, tie them up and take the wheel take the cargo and detach, it doesn't matter how you feel Cast my luck to the briny deeps, let the currents carry me one things for sure, gonna sail these seas alone You've succumbed to the Siren's song You'll be lost before too long You'll be lost Should you find yourself marooned with only drink to keep you sane dreaming of familiar faces, but the details smudge by the sponge of memory and you long for home again, wish you remembered the way one things for sure, gonna sail these seas alone I hope you keep this compass close to your chest when you sail these seas alone You've succumbed to the Siren's song You'll be lost before too long You'll be lost You'll be lost
11.
August winds had wound me south. I kissed the outskirts of your town. Dreamed I ran my palm along your knee. Came to in a Greyhound bus at the mercy of geography. And the interstate rolled away. Through the haze and exhaust I filled my lungs and almost called your name. It felt foreign on my thick tongue and I knew that another chance had passed and I said nothing; sat silent like I’ve always done. I kept a drawer full of your letters. Buried each word like a treasure. Saw the mid-Atlantic fade away inside a rearview. Oh how I wish I was near you. Nothing ventured; nothing gained. Close to the vest, played safe. Sitting on my hands is just a sort of tradition.

about

Recorded Winter 2011-12 with Jay at Project Sound in Haverhill, MA. Album art by Tom Lowell. CD put out by John Wilkes Booth Records!

Purchase the cd here: johnwilkesboothrecs.storenvy.com/products/603911-the-new-warden-still-life-cd

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released June 27, 2012

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The New Warden Boston, Massachusetts

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