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The Man Killed The Bird, And With The Bird He Killed The Song, And With The Song, Himself.

by Andy the Doorbum

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1.
The Tower 03:46
If I could make a living killing off the things I love I'd sleep in the tallest tower feeding on my children's blood. And the sun, it would not bother me. No cross would burn my flesh. Oh, for then I would be human and made flawed like all the rest. In the land of milk and honey, I will bring my plague there first. I'll choke rivers up with vinegar and sip to ease my thirst. And if I should drown in sorrow, oh, it will not be my own. Atop heads piled up like mountains I'll sit quenched upon my thrown.
2.
The Ditch 03:26
Look me in the eyes. Don't...Look at my arms just cause they're moving. And please don't notice the blisters on my palms. And don't think ill of me just cause I'm digging it for you. I'm just doing what I have to do. I'm just digging the ditch a little bit deeper. And it could be a mass grave, I don't know. See all I got's this job and working really hard at doing it. I'm digging the ditch just a little bit deeper. Hold hands with your family. A man's coming down the line to shoot one of you. And when you fall in your sister will fall, too. Chained there to your ankle... Still alive but silent... Waiting for the dirt to rain down then it will be through. And I hope she didn't think...Oh, of what I had to do. I was just digging the ditch a little bit... Deeper.
3.
The Farm 02:58
I've lost count of the times that I've lost my mind and could not recall all that was. And however brief they came to me. By various means were they caused. And I cannot pretend that some part of me was not wholeheartedly changed by the fray. But I'm feeling a lot more creative so I guess that it worked out ok. My family's falling to pieces. We used to be like a small tribe. Its funny how it turns to shit when someone falls in love or someone starts to die. And we'll bury you up on the farm where they brought me after I was born. By the well where our relative froze to death while her brother sat inside...crippled and warm. I've lost track of the memories I have made. I've lost touch with the people I've known. Come to find the world ain't got no saving. Come to terms with leaving it alone. Got a call that I couldn't avoid this time. The way I work I'm sure there'll be more. Like a bride in a virgin white veil, oh... Covering up that greed ridden whore. And my ancestors got my bed ready. Its a German/Sioux Indian hole. I've heard tell of a thing called 'tradition.' Well, we don't buy that shit anymore.
4.
The Eulogy 03:57
I'll be waiting for flowers til I'm dead. I'll hang from the rafter that I helped to build. Will you miss me while I am away? Oh, what a mess I'll make waiting to be saved. I saw God on the mountain today. He was dressed as a sunset, and though we talked for hours he said nothing especially great. Oh, what a mess he's made waiting for flowers. I'll be kissing your forehead when you're dead. I'll dig til my hands bleed. Until I strike silver, and wonder if you'd have loved me anyway. And I'll leave you a pile on your grave to keep you looking up. Then I'll sing til I've nothing to say. My ghost will live on until those who remember are aged and washed away with time. You can't take anything with you, But you can leave plenty behind. I'll be leaving you flowers when I'm dead.
5.
The Orgy 05:46
The timid opens up his heart and plays the part of greed. He's rotten with ambition. The likes of which, I've never seen. And "Baby!" He cries. "Baby!" At the orgy... I wonder who he's talking to and why he still tries to be true when... He should be dancin' like an Indian who wasn't fooled by peace. And coming up for air, there stands his desperate lady. The other one's still down there wearing holes into the sheets, when... She should be dancin' like an elephant who sold its own ivory. Oh, sit her down and tell her something sweet... These arms that hold you, soon will set you free. Just stick your thumb out as you go. There's always people on that road Who've got the time if a ride's all you need. Those miles that slow you, soon will pass with ease. The feeble opens up his mouth and talks a bit on soul. He slept with something missing and he woke up feeling whole. "Oh, save me!" He cried. "Save me!" And the sky began to roll. It opened up and swallowed him. I guess he should have known... He should have been dancin' like a skeleton with skin still on its knees. Well he should have been dancin' cause there's a billion stars he can't even see. Thanks to the light coming off this city. That longing, soon is all that there will be... These arms that hold you, soon will set you free.
6.
The Favor 04:26
When you smashed that pane of glass out with your fist And held the pieces in your hand like they were infants Then you blew them from your palm and made a wish As the dust flew in your eyes and started bleeding. "To be beautiful," with every drop that hit Your smooth wrist that never saw a day of labor Where no chain nor shackle had ever been hitched. Oh, to have that wind be blowing in your favor... Then a man with crooked limbs came to your aid And he carried you despite his painful Rickets. Leading off only one set of tracks were made To where he washed you underneath a frozen spigot And with every piece of glass that he pulled out He recited that you loved him or you didn't. Suddenly that's what his help became about... To be beautiful despite a poor condition.
7.
The Sisters 04:58
My sisters are locked in the closet. Go down the hall, first door to the left and you'll be there. I can still hear someone whisper to me softly... "Don't crack the door. Don't give those girls no air." So many faces on the news for dying. I know we share the same sad destiny. But thanks to my new found sense of sorrow... Mine will come like a baby in its sleep. And I never meant to do them wrong although that's how it seems. I cannot think of any words to say that you'd believe. Oh, is this regret? Cause I'm feeling nothing. And I'm sure by now they're probably getting hungry. Like trails of ants that stretch the world across. I will fulfill the task layed out before me Then act as though I'm stricken by the loss. My sisters are locked in the closet. Go down the hall, first door to the left and that is where... I brushed their hair as though they were still breathing. Don't crack the door. Don't give those girls no air. Oh, is this regret? Cause I'm feeling nothing...
8.
The End 03:31
Commodities are like the air. They're polluted and everywhere. One of the things I hope not to become. Proprietors are at the wheel. They sell 'em cheap. They lie and steal. They wreck, we die. The same old race is run. And I get a sickness in my throat Each time I'm fooled to trust and hope. Used mattresses must always be thrown out. The cleanest man could wash and scrub And still become infected. What's the answer? It must be burned to the ground. I met a man without his legs And all he did was cry and beg Failing to say he lost them on his own. And when I see him now he smiles The teeth of hungry crocodiles Awaiting the next weakling that will come. He has a method of attack. He gets some change and takes it back To buy crack for a whore to rent her tongue. Proprietors are at the wheel. They sell 'em cheap. They lie and steal. From CEOs to peddlers in the slums. And there's a paper you could sign to make it true. If the end is coming, hope it gets here soon. For I've bought the things I need to live from those with the best offer. All they sold me was a plot to put a tomb. I tried to burn the factory. They found a way to punish me. I was sentenced to work til I retired. And then there came a corporate chain. The city went and sold them claim To land they had to clear off with a fire. They put the mill folk out of work. Their sales figures were then assured. The poor must buy the things they can afford. They seek only submission Yet they call it competition. I can only call it one thing. This is war. And there's a paper we could sign to make that true. All they sold us was a plot to put a tomb. So I've bought the things I need to defend myself against tyrants. If the end is coming, hope it gets here soon.
9.
The Other 04:41
I'd love to walk her...in a rose garden and let her soft feet feel out for briars. If only she had brought her crow familiar. That somewhere I might somehow shoot its leg while on the roost and also wound her. Tied together, oh... My bullet need only hit one to bring about a limp unto the other. And I'd love to wash her...in the snow on a mountain side where carrion lies preserved by the weather. A widow left to wild dog packs and feathers. That someday I might pick them up and reconstruct that love upon an alter. And remember, oh... My warm breath need only hit one to carry my scent down unto the others. And I still recall the day...the church congregation crumbled over arguments involving assigned seating. A dog can only take so many beatings. Until he bites a finger off and leaves it in the frost there lost forever. Torn asunder, oh... That hound need only taste it once to attract the attention of the others.
10.
The Limb 03:02
The blast, it came to me. Left my ears ringing with a song Plucked from an angel's cheek. It relieved all sense of alarm. Filled me with melody So sweet I didn't even notice it had taken half of my arm. The shock swept through my veins Like a tornado through a barn. The wind blew in the pain. I felt it spilling from my arm Or where it used to be. The song, like my limb, just a memory cut short as the next blast went off. Bring out your dead. Wrap them in their favorite clothes And fix their hair. Powder their decaying nose And tell a story about where all the dead people go. And about how they and their missing limbs have been rejoined (made whole) again. And in an isolated room I think of everything to try But no attempt will move the hand I still feel lying at my side. They try to comfort me... With needles full of sleep until I am released And I come home to find... You steered me wrong. Said that you loved who I was Now in my arms All you can feel is a nub. And when I write My words are shaken with such tremors its just crud. But if you wait They'll sew me on a new arm. And if it takes I will protect you from harm. And you will lick and kiss a cadaver's wrist That through my blood has been reborn.
11.
The Reveille 04:36
(traditional) There was a little ship and she sailed out on the sea. And the name of our ship was the Turkish Reveille. Oh, she sailed out on that lonely, lonesome water. Oh, she sailed out on the lonesome sea. Up stepped a little sailor, sang "what'll you give to me To sink that ship in the bottom of the sea?" "Oh, I have a house and I have land And I have a daughter that shall be at your command.. If you'll sink her in that lonely, lonesome water. If you'll sink her in the lonesome sea. He bowed on his breast and away swum he. And he swum til he came to the Turkish Reveille. And he had a little o, all made for the bore. And he bored nine holes in the bottom of the floor. Oh, he sunk her in that lonely, lonesome water. Oh, he sunk her in the lonesome sea. He bowed on his reast and away swum he. And he swum til he came to the Golden Willow Tree. He said, "Captain! O, Captain! Will you be as good as your word? Or either will you take me up on board? For I've sunk her in that lonely, lonesome water. For I've sunk her in the lonesome sea. He said, "I won't be as good as my word Nor neither will I take you up on board. If it were not for the love that I bear unto you men I'd sink you the same just as I've sunk them. Oh, I'd sink you in that lonely, lonesome water. Oh, I'd sink you in the lonesome sea. So he bowed on his breast and down sunk he Bidding farewell to the Golden Willow Tree. Oh, he sunk down in that lonely, lonesome water. Oh, he sunk down in the lonesome sea.
12.
The War 07:21
I wrote down the names of every woman I've kissed. And I know that seems strange because I'm sure it won't serve to comfort them. But late in the night when I dream of them girls I remember digging through the sand for pearls. And how I would pry them out with my knife And leave the clams open to die... I sleep like an angel. I sleep like the dead. My Mother once told me to hide because trouble was coming down. I did it back then but I'd fight to the death were it now. And late in the night when that man's in my dreams. The one I will kill before he can kill me. I thrust in my knife and I kiss his coarse cheek For everything he chose to be... I sleep like an angel. I sleep like the dead. The war's always coming, boys. Don't be surprised when it hits. Go home, hug your families, then lock the door tightly behind them. And late in the night when those tears kiss your face Just tell yourself how what you've done's made them safe. Then file along quietly back into place For god, your family, and freedom... You'll sleep like an angel. You'll sleep like the dead. My Father once told me to hide because trouble was coming down. I ran for my life but I'd fight to the death were it now. And late in the night when they come in my sleep. Where I've always been, that is right where I'll be. And I'll sing up so loud it will drown their voice out. They'll have to beat that song out of me. I'll sleep like an angel. I'll sleep like the dead.
13.
OomTat 03:53
One breeze whisks to another, blowing. (Up in the shadow where people will wait to see) One star shines to another, glowing. (Though it expires, it matters without doubt) And One bird sings to another, flying. (Completely oblivious to the starlight) And One man cries to another, dying. (He's convinced that he has got it all figured out.)

about

The fourth full length released by Andy the Doorbum.

credits

released December 31, 2011

Written, Recorded, and Performed by Andy the Doorbum except where otherwise noted.
Mixed by Andy the Doorbum and Neal MF Harper.
Mastered by Dave Harris at Studio B Mastering.
Self released (Alien/Native Movement) with support from Slanty Shanty Records, Self Aware Records, and Afterbirth Casserole Records.

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Andy the Doorbum

Andy the Doorbum has been writing and recording his own music since he was 9 years old.
His discography ranges from eccentric lo-fi caterwauling to lush self-recorded pieces described as "filling a darkening void with a pitch black effort." All of this is done with the goal of finding the beauty in the ugly reality of the world. Growth from upheaval. Art for survival. Creativity or extinction. ... more

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