1. |
Drumheller
02:22
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I was born on the banks of Red Deer River
Between the tourist traps and cheap hotels
Where they fear God as much as I the Devil
And the way I think I’m going straight to hell
When I turn seventeen, I’m gonna steal a car
Drive out west as far as I can see
Robbing banks and killing folk until they finally catch me
And send me right back home to the penitentiary
If this town could only sink a little deeper
Down to the fossils and the old dinosaur bones
They’d dig it up a thousand years and all they’d find
Are plastic souvenirs and empty mobile homes
When I turn seventeen, I’m gonna get a rifle
Take down the first fucking cop I see
Get a horse and hide out, somewhere in a canyon
Until I come back home to the penitentiary
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2. |
Motor Lodge
02:47
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highway 27 east
towards Saskatchewan and peace
or at least that was the plan
but a hundred cars have broken down
by the railway in Rosetown
as easy as another can
i stuck your picture to the dash
a piece of gum to hold it fast
hoped the past would fade to ruin
its come down to this losing fight
down to another sleepless night
but all in all I guess I should have known
Motor lodge, the bed's still warm from last night's
lover's arms, i'm too tired to put up a fight
now, motor lodge
I used to sleep through the alarm
in the hollow of your arms
and quiet twitches of your dreams
and lay around in my home town
until the streetlights all came on
and the pickups raised the dust in streams
Or caught beneath the fleeting light
to hear the coyotes howl invite
their lonesome housebound cousins home
from the the edges of the park
but I'm still left here in the dark
catching pavement arteries through prairie bones
Motor lodge, the bed's still warm from last night's
lover's arms, i'm too tired to put up a fight
now, motor lodge
its a sad and lonely war
one I know I've fought before
i've come so far, it's true
but so far from forgetting you
Motor lodge, the bed's still warm from last night's
lover's arms, i'm too tired to put up a fight
now, motor lodge
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3. |
Wayfaring Stranger
03:08
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4. |
Veronica
03:51
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A horse's bit, transistor chip
Veronica rides again
Rosy bower, transmission tower
The walls of her room are closing in
We can dance to the radio's blessing
The signals like moths we snatch from flight
But I have no problem with confessing
I could stay here all night
Pulses race as fingers trace
New geography on you
Nervous hands and endless lands
In every station born anew
We can dance to the radio's blessing
The signals like moths we snatch from flight
But I have no problem with confessing
I could stay here all night
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5. |
Ghost Limbs
02:31
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6. |
Whiskey
03:36
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The Collapse Calgary, Alberta
prairie folk don't listen to mermaid tales or sailors' warnings
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