1. |
After the Albatross
04:51
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Who reads the paper anymore
Who knows what's happening anymore
Holy intruder, please leave your shoes at the door
If we’re here come Sunday, your knock will deliver our souls
The locusts are returning to the hills
Insecticide replacing oval pills
Surrender all your sons too hard to fill
They’re treating us like human beings still
Oleanders, fall on the endless grey shores
Sands of strangers, push and pull out through the floors
Holy intruder, please leave your shoes at the door
If we’re here come Sunday, your knock will deliver our souls
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2. |
The Dancing Bronco
02:54
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And I’ve seen mothers crying
Cold shoulders turned and lies they all surround me
My friend won’t you let me in
If I’ll be alright in the home of ambivalence
You can stow away on a life of insignificance
If that's not the way,
We’d be monsters then,
But too enlightened ones to tell
(Always there to tell us that we’re wrong)
The ode to censured beating heart is meaningless
And I know I’m unraveling
And there’s a maniac out there and he’s waving a javelin
I won’t let him cause you pain
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3. |
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The gardener and the garden
Bond over their love of rain
He could walk a thousand miles in his sandals
But binoculars see just as far
And his breath, but a toadstool
There’s a cold cup of coffee in every room
He smells it
The humanoid emerges
(Walter! Walter! Oh Walter!)
You better look up
And feel the
Touch of cuff on wrist
Won’t you give a home the right to exist
And you can slip my name in your coat jacket pocket
Pull up your boots
And press the corner to the flame
There’s a pressure to pull the string taut
To feel it in his tiny limbs
He strays from home
He owes his life to alchemy
And his path to a convenient hole in his pocket
The creator weeps
(Walter! Walter! Oh Walter!)
You better look out
And feel the sun
A reappearing tree a familiar face
A country moon white as dinner plates
A poison root stuck between my teeth
A stunted growth bubbling underneath
And I won’t come back home again
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4. |
Picking Fish Bones
02:55
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Rip out the telephone
Crumpled paper in the heart of your palm
Patience is a virtue now
He drags a cushion to her seat
Oh mama these toes have to break up the concrete
All the while, turned away
(Don’t go quietly to your grave)
And lead me to the door
Bring on the Author of Pain
Oars collide with knees, a splinter ingrained
And I won’t see you again
(Are you under control?)
(No!)
(Oh I am the voice of rage and ruin,
talk about it, talk about it
Oh I don’t want to **** talk about it!)
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5. |
Woodpecker
02:57
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Fan service bled into a tune
Left the middle right for the room
Fit with the face of luxury
And a lucid minded criminal to lay your bones
Joy and pain wrapped in cellophane
And packaged for the world to receive
When the night don’t end in the day
They wouldn’t want it any other way
Oh no, oh no
Pulling hands off the highway
To take them to the promised land
Well they’ll quickly find strict adherence
To the funny fate of Hollywood’s shine and palms
All day long as they sing their songs
The smoke moves from their teeth to their brains
Alright
Oh no, oh no
Oh no, oh no!
When the night don’t end in the day
They wouldn’t want it any other way
When the night don’t end in the day!
Wouldn’t want it any other way
Oh no, oh no
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6. |
Under a Crouching Sun
03:27
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7. |
Concrete Bridges
03:52
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The Harlequin figures shuffle in
Mistaking their shadows for their skin
Never lived to follow
Sorrow guilt or sin
And all their lives confined
To the things they leave behind
And it just goes on and on
Lechery never had a face like this
(had a face like this)
Smirking at the scenery of the grift
(scenery of the grift)
Can’t take all the sweetness
Drowning in the pithe
Your ghost is coming fast
Your memory just won't last
And it just goes on and on
Only paper horses believe in bludgeons been unsaid
Fading concrete bridges between the sleeping and the dead
A million dances for the rain
(dances for the rain)
Quench to the bone but escape from the vain
(escaping from the vain)
Measuring out in ounces
Just know that they're still sane
They stuttered out their prime
But it all will die in time
And it's only on and on
Only paper horses believe in bludgeons been unsaid
Fading concrete bridges between the sleeping and the dead
Only paper horses believe in bludgeons been unsaid
Fading concrete bridges between the sleeping and the dead
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8. |
A Caboose for Nigel
03:17
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9. |
Torvald
03:53
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Prospect low and so fleeting
A taller task than I have seen
Appalachian rocky roads
A world so foreign to me
Running away from here
A crook and his schemes
A train pulls in it’s half past 3
A ticking clock has ceased to be
Running away from here
Full head of steam
The thief in you’s done quite some stealing
Oh the damage it has done
There will come a day
You can fade away
My faith is gone and truth be told
I won’t see the day
It’ll crumble down
Total dismay
The thief in yous done quite some stealing
Oh the damage that it’s done
There will come a day
You can fade away
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10. |
In Yellow Evening
07:10
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Have you seen the curtain rising
There’s nothing much to say or do
All our tongues have been tied to blunder
By the people who’ve told us what we knew
There’s no room for graying wonders
They've all been dragged from view
Shouting to the many from the few
Blaming action, Satisfaction
To set the course to kick down shaking stairs
Backwards dealings, crumbling ceilings
In the name of all that’s good and fair
Filled in foxholes, advertise poles
The night sky reeks of murder
Loose in the wind to blow around
Dry eyes and broken slumber
Meet the staggered angels on the ground
To be free isn’t bought or taken
To be known and not be found
Move on to the light without a sound
Corners burning, stapled mornings
Left behind for channel five to share
Stitching bleeding, with hunger fleeting
And every day that passes, worse to bear
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The Virgin Jerry Chicago, Illinois
The Virgin Jerry was a Chicago based alternative rock band active from December of 2018 until the summer of 2021. During
their time, they released two albums, Coffee and Cake and Under a Crouching Sun. They were made up of:
Franklin Brady: Bass and Vocals
Sam Smith:
Guitar and Vocals
Stas Gunkel: Drums and Multi instrumentalist
Leo Redican:
Guitar
Brian Huetteman:
Keyboards
... more
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