1. |
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Bury me in someone else's clothes
put rebar in my spine to fix unsightly scoliosis
forget my name
despite the epitaph, I'm the only one to blame
There's someone in this room I cannot see
watching like a peepshow or an owl up in a tree
thy will be done
as certainly as shadows eat the sun
She's cuttin off her fingers one by one
one for every year he's gone in rainy Oregon
he shall return
when the undulating wilderness there burns
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2. |
The American Civil War
03:12
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3. |
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4. |
The Arsonist
05:13
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Corn-fed beauty, real hit with the guys
sugar and spice and an interlock device
she smoked Virginia Slims down to the bone
Smoke em if you got em like the gentlman says
suckin black tar out of a Marlboro Red
it lingers like an Oklahoma ghost
A travesty
out on the 17
where a raven sings
in crows and caws
A masterpiece
made by some long-dead king
lost to a book burning
forgotten songs
He's drivin down to Texas with a chainsaw on his knee
splash him on the cross with the gasoline
the sky was glowin orange in late July
Now he's rattlin his chains walkin down the hall
hyperventalatin through his last phone call
a plume of smoke went waftin through the night
A travesty
out on the 17
where a raven sings
in crows and caws
A masterpiece
made by some long-dead king
lost to a book burning
forgotten songs
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5. |
Early Retirement
02:54
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Said one old man
to another one
we must escape
we'd better run
They left the old folks home
and ran through the night
to the land of the young
and urban delight
Soon they got lost
in a world they forgot
now they are trapped
in the freedom they sought
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6. |
The Language of the Lord
03:03
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My children!
This earthly stage engenders horrors and ecstasies of equal measure, bisected by grueling doldrums and rheumatoid repetition. I am but a constant scholar and impeccable accountant of every specie of man’s condition, however wretched, howlin, shiverin, rampagin, dog-bitten, rabid, rag-pickin, itchin, excoriatin, blesphemin, fornicatin, be-snockerin, opiated, caterwaulin or otherwise obstructive to man’s passage to grace.
The Good Lord is unconstantly found in the sunshine. Savored in the first bite of a picnic cobbler. Olfactorarily witnessed in the sniffin’ of chrysanthemum or sprig of lavender. Heard sung sweetly of a whippoorwill’s winsome warble.
He is found in the poor man’s chicken coop ransacked by weasels. He is present abundant in a souse’s fever and fit, when tongue is torn in two by rotted tooth and chatterin’ jaw, as if driven by fiendish motors locomotive. He is the subject of the gibberings of amputees on be-bloodied and cannon-balled battlegrounds, where black smoke and fogs of flies obscure bodies both earthly and celestial.
And therein lies the paradox of Faith, my children. It is he who needs the Lord that begs his council, and not he who celebrates his body’s favor. It is the clean man that seeks the squalor, and the filthy man that longs lonesome for cleanliness.
Earn thy moment quiverin’ in the tempests of torment, and the face of God Almighty shall surely sneer through those desolate chambers.
Amen.
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7. |
Sebastian & Kip (Fall)
07:26
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Sebastian and Kip were conjoined at the hip
And there’s nothin the doctors could do to separate ‘em
Around the town the folks would stare
Dogs n cats went runnin scared
And the masters had to search to relocate em
One melancholy night, Kip was drinkin’ Ballantine’s
And Sebastian passed out babblin’ ropes of drool
When she appeared from the bar crowd, Kip thought she’d come down from a cloud
Like the fresh snow undefiled by heels of boots
Kip said, “Sebastian, by God’s might, I ain’t beheld such a sight,
She must surely be my bride, I must possess her!”
Sebastian’s mouth stayed shut, for they shared a scotch-filled gut
And he never heard his brother’s love confession
She had candy colored eyes, lips that curl and hips that glide
It seemed she existed just to overwhelm the senses
Kip envisioned Christmas trees, windy walks and pregnancies
Chimney smoke that swirls above white picket fences
And Kip said,
“Don’t wanna be a side show
Stumblin round town with a twin in tow
She could never love a man stuck to his brother
A vision fit to make a woman scream:
A two-headed man in a limousine
I must emancipate this body from the other
While his brother slouched there drunk, Kip compelled their legs to hunt
For an apparatus that could slice him from Sebastian
He found a chainsaw in a shed behind a sign a-painted red, readin
Private property, no tress-a-passin
With a smoke and whiskey grin, gazed upon his siamese twin
Who was limp like gutted trout left on the stringer
Kip hauled back the chainsaw cord so it sputtered then it roared
Then it tore the flesh and bone that stuck between em
-
When the chainsaw came to rest, Sebastian fell into the mess
He was twitchin’ in a fit until he wasn’t
Kip looked upon his new body, two-legged bloody and free
And obstructing him was absolutely nothin
N’ Kip said:
“After 31 years, I’m a man at last,
Cohabitation is a thing o’ the past
I’m finally independent from that deadbeat.
I can take a woman as my wife,
Settle down into a normal life
Unencumbered by the twin that so upset me!”
Kip was turnin black and blue
Blood was pourin from the wound
That had once been his convergence with Sebastian
He was lurching at her fast
Staring at her through the glass
Til he collapsed and his heart came to inaction
The townspeople were dismayed
when they discovered them next day
Asking who the hell could oh-so-cruelly off’em
The people pooled their meager pay
A seamstress sewed em back in twain
And they were buried in a double-wide coffin
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8. |
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9. |
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Tim Mechling Washington
Tim Mechling is a Washington-based psych-folk/rock artist. He's been home recording and producing commercially unviable music since 2006.
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