KEEP HIS NAME ALIVE
About half the sounds on this song were made with a little “Fun Years” toy keyboard we came across at a thrift store, which was a decent consolation prize after failing to find a small enough jumpsuit for me to fit into for a music video.
34
Guitar by Stephen Broomer.
BREAKING IT
party ’til 3/ wake up at 8 to do dishes/
eat a plum for breakfast and call it nutritious/
watch a true riches-to-rags story unfold/
the untold crushing of one soul/
delicious/ to devils in drag/ with dragnets/
i’ve had a few scrapes with stagettes/
the crags get new fates/ my bag’s checked/
and screwtape’s taped my mouth shut/ it’s too late/
i’m opening doors that can’t be closed/
the canteen chose the man/ to trade hands-free phones
for the gambled throes of panhandling ghosts/
straight scared of a psalm saying ‘damn these foes’/
ice sheets break off the coast/
but we both look the other way/ knowing what we want the most/
but don’t mention tension/ friendships entrenched in exemption
from anything that touches redemption/
wrench and pry the burned goods
from a turned hood/ gentrified/
spurned good and desensitized/ ’cause what they discerned should
have pointed them to repent the wise words of a wormwood/
get by/ with no working knowledge/
a mosque masked and a church demolished/
collect dirt to polish and spit shine/
when i get mine, i’m gonna fit fine/
breaking it down/ breaking it down/
it’s all tomfoolery, man/ buffoonery/
the wrong jewelry banned/
and soon to demand/ inhumane rulings and plans/
long removed from the hand of truth/
who in a mansion could do with a pan/
i’m moving in a certain reproof/
down the ladder like i’m finished all my work on the roof/
through with the sleuths dragging me round the grail/
wisdom had to be found within/ veiled by a curtain of youth/
i’m a snail/ a worm of a man/
so when i heard the commands/ i kept my common courtesy grand/
fingerbreadths burying a skirt in the sand/
five hearts when the early bird chirping began/
garden variety loot wishes/
a ho and a rake for all my uncouth itches/
i’m too viscious/ mind moves religious/
shiraz and baguettes to gag with the fishes/
delicious/ to devils in drag/ with dragnets/
i’ve had a few scrapes with stagettes/
the crags get new fates/ my bag’s checked/
and screwtape’s taped my mouth shut/ it’s too late/
breaking it down/ breaking it down/