1. |
Never Getting Warm
02:47
|
|
||
|
In Dubrovnik, in a building, on an antique floor.
With the cutting edge of glass against the skin at the throat.
From the basement to the attic, running back and forth.
In the middle of a room through the ice and the storm.
We took the dope that we had, packed up as much as we could, threw a rock through the solitary window in the room.
Took the clothes on our bodies down to the open bag of trash, laying to rest every goddamn good thing we had ever had.
From the door, to the stairway, to the street, through a gathering storm;
Never getting warm.
In Dubrovnik, at a pawn shop, an exchange for more.
In the mail at the building an arraignment for court.
From the shelter to the elements, running back and forth.
From the shelter to the elements, right back to the store.
We took the cash that we had, packed up as much as we could, took the trash with the clothes to the backpacks and the goods.
Stuck a plug in the basin, possessions intact, started the faucet, the sink overflowing the edge.
From the door, to the stairway, to the street, through a gathering storm;
Never getting warm.
|
||||
2. |
White Walls
01:46
|
|
||
|
White walls! Bad setting! Black paint! Big holes!
This company is totally fucking bankrupt. The lights stick in the folds. The rats that live in the basement have multiplied and spread by the score. This business is failing in lateral folds; productivity must rise! More units must be sold! You get an elemental wasteland for the price of living in the heartland.
White walls! Bad Setting! Black paint! Big holes!
This is a difficult way to live.
|
||||
3. |
|
|||
|
Epilogue: A sound off from simple people with simple theories.
Fucking up, but articulate, with a feeble grasp of arithmetic.
Fueled by false determination, and the final breath of a declining nation.
Where do you think that the remedy is? And why do you think it even exists?
This building is falling down.
Paradox: A nodding off from imploding circles with no direction.
Take a look in the fucking mirror, and ask yourself who the enemy is.
Last call at the gas pump. Last call at the water pump.
Who do you think are your fucking friends?
Who do you think are your fucking friends?
|
||||
4. |
Dig Too Deep
01:14
|
|
||
|
Dig too deep, get hot, hot hell, get devils inside your body.
Climb too high, get wet, wet wings, get heaven inside your throat.
And when the city starts to shatter. When the military comes. When the soldiers from their bases do arrive: we're going to feel the earth shake.
Do you have any more money? Do you have any more food? Do you even have a roof over your head? Looks as though the end is coming soon.
|
||||
5. |
No Lodging For The Mad
02:15
|
|
||
|
I have been making presentations for a final escalation, I have been praying to the god of giving up.
She says, “Lock the door behind you now, before the criminals/cops break in your house”.
Oh, I have looked so hard for a place where I could die. But the winners up there of high-end living won't allow the broken insane to arise.
So fuck this city. Fuck this job. They break you down before you even reach the top.
In a god-fearing land, there ain't no lodging for the mad;
you can't get high enough to breathe before you drown.
I'm gonna go back to that factory, where they make moving parts
that will take you very far away.
In the flash of a pack of matches, I will be gone.
|
||||
6. |
Needle's Eye
03:45
|
|
||
|
I want your sincerity, you know. I want a song that will dig into my bones. I want a place to live where I can raise my kids, settle down with you and call it a home.
I want a town as big as New York, where the masses and the buildings are born. I want an anonymous place where nobody knows my name; if that were possible, I wouldn't need much anymore.
I want a bar where I can drink until my face turns numb. Gimme a bottle of wine so I can kill some time; I don't gotta prove anything to anyone.
When I get back to the house, a binding webbing forms.
Dream of hell-bound barking dogs, and then walk back out the door.
If I get this far when I grow old, I won't want for any fortune of gold.
I want the markings, instead, of a life well-lead, and the force of a body turning cold.
A lover's eye does define a life that is good and true.
Many a times I've been chilled to the spine because I wanted you.
|
||||
7. |
Militaristic Kitchen
02:45
|
|
||
|
This is a militaristic kitchen, this is a pluralistic sideshow.
Get off the hesitation, get off the fucking sidewalk, I love you.
No borders, no boundaries, no authorities, no leaders, I love you.
This is a militaristic kitchen, this is a pluralistic sideshow.
This is a militaristic kitchen, this is a terrifying freakshow.
Get off the hesitation, get off the fucking sidewalk, I love you.
No preachers, no greed, no misconceptions, no losers, I love you.
This is a militaristic kitchen, this is the most compelling freakshow.
This is a militaristic kitchen, this is just the beginning now.
Get off the hesitation, get off the fucking sidewalk, I love you.
Watch your back! Watch history! Watch everything and act!
This is a militaristic kitchen, this is only the beginning.
|
||||
8. |
Cuyuahoga Canal
02:28
|
|
||
|
When you commit unforgivable crimes,
there is a house in which to hide.
At this house, there are guns inside.
If you begin to starve, I will feed you well.
If you cannot read, I will gladly help.
If you need some sleep, you can rest a spell.
But there's no swimming in the old canal, in those polluted waters where the best of men drown;
there's no swimming in the Cuyahoga Canal.
If you build a boat, you can sail up north.
You may find freedom past the Canadian border.
But your presence here is unwelcome, in the name of law and order.
|
||||
9. |
|
|||
|
Setting: Bellingham.
Action: Stealing apples from the man.
Characters: Dianne and three young dudes in a travelin' band!
Went to their land; sabotage was the plan
for 30 proof hooch in Pi Pagoda's van!
Setting: City Hall.
Action: Getting handcuffed by the cops.
Plot Devices: Bike locks and tons of people tossing molotovs and rocks.
Went to their land; sabotage was the plan.
Financed by the state, laughing while running away.
|
||||
10. |
Bike Cops
01:49
|
|
||
|
You got caught up in U-locks, played chicken with bike cops,
danced badly with employees at hotel picket lines.
Stole copies from Kinko's, spray painted the windows,
and slept on the floor for a year.
Then they got you on charges of assaulting an officer, interfering with a “protector of the peace”,
disorderly conduct, harassment, and trespassing;
we panicked, and now you're locked in a jail cell alone.
But don't ever get lonely. You've got friends in most places.
|
||||
11. |
Montana
03:17
|
|
||
|
Does it even matter?
|
||||
12. |
There is Trouble
02:00
|
|
||
|
Where have you run? Are the walls still on your mind?
Where could you possibly go, expecting to find something?
Do you realize you are bound to hit the floor?
Do you realize that the walls you make and the places you stay
will get beaten by the wind and erode?
The ones in danger who are down on their luck
get picked up at the crossroads in a pickup truck.
The driver, concealed, speaks real slow,
He says, “There is trouble at the end of this road...”
|
||||
Secret Pennies Records Corvallis, Oregon
If you like A Rhythm in the Cages LP SPR07, you may also like:
Rogue Taxidermy
by Days N' Daze
supported by 11 fans who also own “A Rhythm in the Cages LP SPR07”
fell into Days n' Daze when I was travelling, thanks to some of my road dogs. I don't have that freedom anymore but I feel a piece of it Everytime I listen to their music. love y'all!
go to album
Probably Nothing, Possibly Everything
by Pat The Bunny
supported by 10 fans who also own “A Rhythm in the Cages LP SPR07”
I love that I always calls me back to it.
go to album
Burn The Earth Leave It Behind
by Wingnut Dishwasher's Union
supported by 10 fans who also own “A Rhythm in the Cages LP SPR07”
Classic! what more can I say?
go to album
MU56: The Meltaways
by The Meltaways
Marvelous, manic punk rock from the Meltaways with all the energy and combustibility of a shaken soda bottle.
go to album
Colossally good New Wave out of Portland, with the nerviness of Kleenex poured into hooky pop songs.
go to album
Heartfelt, driving pop-punk with a real mid-'90s sound, the perfect balance between melody and distortion.
go to album
"God, Forgive These Bastards" Songs From The Forgotten Life Of Henry Turner (2012)
by The Taxpayers
supported by 10 fans who also own “A Rhythm in the Cages LP SPR07”
The Taxpayers were able to put down a tacklist of songs that allow us to go on a journey. In this album we experience the manic highs and lows one may experience in a life long battle with deteriorating mental health. The picture at times grim and beautiful is one I continually come back to as its tragedy never fades.
go to album
