LYRICS

'reclamation' LP lyrics


SIDE A
home
jan palach
reclamation 

SIDE B
unbecoming
salad days

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

HOME   
dusty roads and dead ends
graves and grudges
run over and thin,
paint peeled back and worn
keepsakes unkempt
hand me downs all

the past built over, disowned
everything's gone 

stories and tales
torn and frayed
houses and homes already gone
glories, yellow and fade
etched into stones 
upturned... and lost

crossed off and rewritten
names they all forgot
prices we pay for 
for leaving. for staying, 
memories wasting space,
the long way home

the ties that bind us 
the ground we walk upon
buried years and feet beneath 
our share of mortality


___________________________________

JAN PALACH 
a war on reason 
fanatics and secrets 
and the beds they make
but not a straight face 
in this place thinks you're safe


a fight to save whats left  
to hold, to take something back 

wealth and distance 
and all it may afford
cant occupy the future 
or the minds of those 
who must bear your weight
there will be something afoot and fucked
as long as you stand
and you'll take rocks to the head

a fight to save whats left 
to hold, to take something back 
to take something back

where means meet end
where making something 
means an end
to take something back 
means something at the end of the day
when we quiet the beasts you lead
and you lose the streets
we take back our lives
our means

"In August 1968, the Soviet Union invaded Czechoslovakia to crush the liberalising reforms of 
Alexander Dubček's government during what was known as the Prague Spring. 
A group of Czech students including Jan Palach made a suicide pact 
intending to sacrifice themselves in protest of the invasion. 
Prague-born Palach was the first to set himself on fire, in Wenceslas Square, 
on 16 January 1969."

___________________________________


RECLAMATION  

as like leaves 
we are thrown afield
and like birds in a row 
we are tossed to the ground 
whispers and sighs from those all around....
as dust is lifted afoot
we fill greater rolls of the rank and file

like the unwashed, callow youth, of simpler times
we straddle heart, and naivete
artless and frail, and looking too close
born outcast and pariah

if wolves are to sheep 
what beast is to prey 
we've become both 

the huddled masses locked away
we clutch hope, weak kneed
clueless and shaken, turned inside out
out of touch outclassed.

huddled masses locked away 
we clutch hope weak kneed

clueless and shaken, turned inside out
out of touch. outclassed.
if wolves are to sheep 
what beast is to prey 
we've become both.
huddled masses locked away 
we clutch hope weak kneed
if wolves are to sheep 
what beast is to prey 
we've become both.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

UNBECOMING  
my empty stare speaks of endless nights 
(that) drag another day into another day
hit another and lie awake
waiting for comfort, respite

flights of fancy and escape
dull and lull and wish away 
cheap distractions, cute and clever
cant dismiss the toils
of ungraceful age...

an impatient look 
a glare at days
before and to come
piled on top 
of weeks and years.
the calendar baits.
cant dismiss the  trials
of ungraceful age...

and contempt one could taste
a spiteful drag, towards a face
towards a place and all those
things in the way. 
hate on top of hate. 

endless venom, disdain
the violence; endless. 
i cant breathe , i cant see
and i'll die this way



_________________________________________


SALAD DAYS   
we dance, to funeral songs
rename the games we play
make careless useless claims
we deny past mistakes
and tell tall tales. 
strengthen lies. deepen holes

.in which we hide 

as our way out  grows close
copping out  is how we cope 

we raise glasses high
bear witness to misdeed,
praise failure in spades
we train ourselves to think
we're always ready
got it all worked out
we know nothing and less 
indifference.
halfway there.

(and) already dead 

as our way out  grows close
copping out  is how we cope 

and so it goes. and so it ends. 
lifetimes spent waiting, 
wasted. already dead. 



(we're so lazy. drunk on money, drink and who gives a shit)
_________________________________________


'judgements' LP/CD/CS lyrics

REVENGE 
if youd just wipe off that smirk and just look away. 
wring your filthy hands. line your pockets as long as you can
the cracks will come and lines will be drawn. 

CH this is what you get this is how you pay 
this is what you get you and yours... dead. 

the people you know will wash up on shores you can name
there's no place to hide in this sort of blame
guilt pours down like a sheet, lies unravel, lying in wait. 

CH this is what you get this is how you pay 
this is what you get you and yours... dead. 

doors and eyes will close
favors, fortune dry up. 
the same means to an end 
that put you and the rest of us here. 

i hope you drown and i hope your children are found
told, made to watch while they drag you out.
wrap you in plastic and take you away.

(i absolutely support the destruction and failure of the people 
and the institutions that destroy our lives all over the world.
we as a country, as a world, should shoot the fuckers 
who fuck up our respective lives, in the fucking face.)



COVERED 
a cheap excuse
copout and fall back
first world problems 
soft hand decisions

pillowed and padded
sheltered and coddled
well clothed. well read. 
entitled. 
entrusted. 
well fed. covered. 

ch: this excess looks young, lost and dumb. 
nary a care or a capful of smarts
passing out and passing on. 

a life of chance
gift and advances
kept safe 
out of harms way

charitable and mobile 
cherished and able
well clothed. well read. 
entitled. 
entrusted. 
well fed. covered. 

ch: this excess looks young, lost and dumb. 
nary a care or a capful of smarts
passing out and passing on.

turn up your nose
leave your luxury to rot
get eaten alive outside your locks and gates
your complaints and cares
worries and wares
rich folk trifles
i cant bear or hear


ENDURANCE 
barely breathing and bandaged up
how our hearts keep beating i couldnt tell
its against us and we never win
yet somehow we live

we crawl and pull
and take a fall
for the sake of aching 
our way through

weary and worn
torn down, scarred up
routined to death and sick

making a last stand
again and again
haging our necks out
with one eye open
wincing and waiting to see

if we lose our heads 
in these sweat soaked trials
and broken back tasks
we trudge on out of spite

weary and worn 
torn down, scarred up
routined to death and sick


CAPITAL 
i want every acre burned
to spite the restless and reckless
who would have and have you believe
that their great ideas and cherished things...

are for sale if only you get in line
as though means grows on trees

we may sit hunkered down and safely home
but we are always, always alone. 

i want bodies to fall out of the sky
like a plague, like a storm
for the sagging faces and hollow eyes
that part the air on this cadaver cart

on this cold meat tray
for come what may
and it will come

we may sit hunkered down and safely home
but we are always, always alone. 

as if luck falls from father to son
for come what may and it will come
it will come. 

(privelege and excess. gated and locked homes. 
the idea that having more is part of what we are all entitled to. 
and that in turn, we will be happier in the end. 
the emptiness one feels cant be filled no matter how big the car or tv.)



DESERTED 
the death of the mom and pop
big box pipedreams
cattle calls of sure things
new roads to nothing new
the charmed life for the chosen few

dead ends in the old down town
halls full of men long dead
relics lay rusting within doors ajar
a time long past. a time long gone. 

walls push out nails
a quiet protest on these deserted streets
ties so cleanly and clearly cut
emptiness stamped over fertile plots

dead ends in the old downtown
halls of of men long dead
relics lay rusting within doors ajar
a time long past. a time long gone. 


FUNERALS
i got cracked in the face by another sick joke
we hold our own hands and hold onto ghosts
cheat on ourselves. get chipped away
by our own lies, spite and hate

it just gets silent and cold

in spite of best attempts and good intent
days turn south and heads turn down
another memory to trip over and hold
another way to kill ourselves from the inside out

i start to collapse inside of thought
we lean onto vice and cut our own throats
forget everyone else, make sure
no one gets close enough to catch
the emptiness and depth

of the hollow we call home

in spite of best wishes and get wells 
years pass by and concern moves on
another face to pass over and ignore
another door gets closed, another fucking day

as heartbreak and death cross paths
it just gets silent and cold
in this hollow we call home

i cant remember 
i cant recall 
i dont care

(life in general moves too fast and gets torn to shreds. 
sometimes nothing matters. sometimes nothings left)


WASTE
block the sun with a hand to the sky
a cry for help, a drink set aside
hands searching for a hold on hope
grabbing at air as teeth hit the floor

CH a wretched wreck 
a foul misstep 
life traps. death unchecked. 
abandoned. alone. the bottoms' there (if you know where to hold)

staring at clocks and faces as plain
watching the night putting reason to sleep
get everything to lose and nothin the same
until ill health and time come looking to pay

CH a wretched wreck 
a foul misstep  
life traps. death unchecked

recalling years that shrink and seem like days
keeping score tally and mark
as lessons and age  
..tag dread and shame. 

(getting by and what have you can be a mind numbing exercise
in patience and endurance. while it may destroy a few good folk, 
i can relate to the temptation to drown it all in a sea of excess and self 
destruction. it can be sad. it happens. it has to sometimes.)



DUSTBOWL
signs to nowhere and sinking holes 
promise defeated cold 
all bets are hedged on getting by
birthrights die. grudges hold.

this is where the bombs should drop
the wash the last scraps 
to muddy graves and open fields
america's lost and found
where cold dead hands hold bleached signs
of progress made and sold
auction off pride, house and home. 

take this misery off the map
the backside of fortune
the sudden dead end
this is where nature wins x2
hunts out youth and settles up
this is where the horizon stops

(this is where) the sun sets a bit too quick
where one marries oneself to death
and wishes it all, it all would end
what once was an open road
is now a landfill of contempt

(the small town charm in all its glory cannot hide how 
most of america's rural areas have been swallowed up by 
big box retailers, strip malls, prisons and subdivisions. 
what is left behind is often the saddest face of humanity
where traditions die hard, and people quietly wait to
fill their graveyard plot down the road.)



RETIREMENT 
not a glimmer of hope 
for the numbers of us
who have nothing more than an old story
a short obit
no imprint to call our own 
no sign to mark our path
a repeating call to watch the clock
we stay on our toes. 

CH its a turn for the worse in these trying times
we're falling ill as we fall in line

our former glories and past triumphs
all mean nothing. we're broken men. 
content to do nothing
comfort's a hell of a drug
killing ourselves as days grow to years. 

CH its a turn for the worse in these trying times
we're falling ill as we fall in line

obliged to accept what we have left
hanging our hats on what we can get
drowning in the lack anything better to do. 

(we resign ourselves to lazy traditions, soft couches and vacant nods
 as we toss night after night and day after day into the abyss. )