1. |
One Man Less A Million
02:24
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One Man Less A Million
Well my friend, oh where is he?
It seems I've lost my family,
He was an honest man, selfless and strong,
More than I can say for most, but that good man's gone,
My selfish wish, to share one last beer,
To share one last laugh, comes lasting tears,
The memories we made shaped who I am,
That shape now slumps, trying to face this end,
One man less a million, some would say that'd be unseen,
But in a world of sheep and scoundrels,
He shined through the obscene,
Less than one man in a million was as good of a man as him,
And as the world sits on its axis, Axel’s light shines on in,
To my friend, wherever you may be,
I thank whatever God graced your presence with me,
And curse it all the same for now you're gone,
Though the life you brought, I feel it living on,
Your tale was cut shorter than it deserved,
All I have to offer are these parting words,
So long my friend, until we meet again,
When the tale of my own has found an end,
One man less a million, some would say that'd be unseen,
But in a world of sheep and scoundrels, you shined through the obscene,
Less than one man in a million was as good of a man as you,
As the world sits on its axis, your light will shine on through,
That forlorn day of late January,
Is forever cold, though your soul is free.
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2. |
The Road
03:34
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The Road
The road in sight has grown cold in the light,
As darkness hits, I'll lose my fingertips,
The sun is losing heat as drifters lose their feet,
And empty their packs into abandoned shacks,
They say, "I saw this day as it was on its way",
"We'll bunker ourselves down and in foul drink, we’ll drown"
"Pull back the blinds to hide from wandering eyes"
"And nail shut the door, for we wander no more"
The calm have gone insane and they have grown deranged,
They fight for foul meat among the hounds of the street,
What were once decent people, turn to deceit and evil,
They no longer hide the rotting of their mind,
What was a calm cool breeze, now has a stench of disease,
It will blow day and night with no end in sight,
We've lost the lull to the storm,
There's nothing left that's warm,
Nothing but uneasy dreams and dried up streams,
We've come so far, yet only made it here,
Conquered all from our fate to our fears,
Were we not warned, not urged to change,
Our crooked course leading us astray,
To have no where to go with where we have been,
And no where to look, after all we have seen,
Looks like I looked away when it mattered most,
I must have stepped aside as we drew too close,
What were once green trees have gone dead with disease,
Girdled by beetles, leaving dry red needles,
Soon to be charred black from a single lightning crack,
That'll set the hillside ablaze in a smoky haze,
Moisture's gone from the soil, the crops left to spoil,
And growing in the fields is only dust for our meals,
And dust for our cups, for the well has dried up,
To an empty hollow hole; a mirror to my soul,
As structures begin to crumble, the last of the living stumble,
From the desolate sounds of the disappearing towns,
With nowhere to go along the lonely roads,
It's there we'll find the end among the empty bends,
And it's a similar breeze, but the smell is of release,
It will blow throughout the night, for another day's in sight,
It's not as dark as the storm, but far from being warm,
There's no one left to dream or hear the return of the streams,
We've come so far, yet only made it here,
Conquered all from our faith to our fears,
Were we not warned, not urged to change,
Our crooked course leading us astray,
To have no one to pity after all we have been,
And no one to look down on after all we have seen,
Looks like I looked away when it mattered most,
I must have stepped aside as we drew to close.
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3. |
Drinking With The Damned
04:05
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Drinking With The Damned
Well I put down the bottle as I picked up the book,
For too long as a drunkard, I had been mistook,
It's been said I'm no good, I don't remember doing wrong,
I don't remember why my family is all gone,
I had a few different children with a couple different wives,
They've all gone and left me and gone on with their own lives,
I've been kicked out of houses, broke and alone,
But nothing brings pain like breaking one’s own home,
For I'm a man of God, but I've been drinking with the damned,
It took me from my family as I held it in my hand,
I hardly saw it happen, for I hardly had my sight,
And all I have is an empty bottle at my side,
As I close another barroom, I pay the barman borrowed cash,
Save myself a dollar; an offering for morning mass,
For Saturday’s now done, though I could go another round,
In a few short hours, those Sunday bells will sound,
As not to disrespect, I put on my Sunday best,
My new dress shoes and my Sunday vest,
I find my place among the parish, none here know of my mistakes,
And though I'm feeling rough, the chalice will ease my shakes
I'll find an empty seat in a dimly lit bar,
With a few other dingy men, who haven't made it far,
It's not a place one goes for a sympathetic ear,
We've all done our own deeds that have delivered us here,
We'll spew out our stories all the same,
Though no one listens, it isn't in vain,
As the memories lead my lips, they also leave my head,
And I'm left with nothing more than a haze in their stead.
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4. |
Industry Temp
03:32
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Industry Temp
I'd been cooking in kitchens, washing rich folks’ dishes,
Barely living from a cheque to the next,
Said, "I won't be sticking around, I got work out of town",
And, "Not to worry it's for the best",
I got covered in dirt and my body hurt,
I got laid off before summer’s end,
What's a guy to do with his empty boots,
But wear them proud as an industry temp,
Gordon held a job here for twenty odd years,
Selling furniture or office supplies,
To business men, then business left,
That business went under overnight,
As luck would have it, a lumberyard’s shorthanded,
Now we're stacking boards in forty below,
We caught a moment of heat in where the full-timers eat,
But when they caught on, we were tossed out in the cold,
With our grubby clothes and blown out toes,
We await our placements on the agency seats,
They open half past three, and offer stale coffee,
And pay ten cents more than any on the street,
Call us temporaries, we are labor ready,
The workforce to help lighten the load,
Tell me my daily duty, you can count on me,
To do it as good as I'm told,
But not too fast, got to make the work last,
I'll be damned if I don't get my full forty this week,
Rent is due, I need smokes too,
And when the foreman’s out of sight, I catch some sleep,
Frank had a silver tongue, his stories never were done,
He was a framer by trade,
But wouldn't you know it, he managed to blow it,
When the man caught up and garnished his wage,
Boss said it wasn't him, but the Government,
He did dodgy taxes and money was owed,
Frank went red and clocked him right in the head,
And clocked out as he was let go,
Dan on the other hand, loved his cans,
That man sure is a piece of work,
Turned up three days, averaged out okay,
Took a mid-week advance to quench his thirst,
Stayed up all night, drinking out his lights,
'Til he nearly resembled the dead,
And at a quarter to four, he shuffled through the door,
Tweaked out from his attempt to level his head,
Don't expect too much, half of us are half cut,
The other half ain't happy with the pay,
The man behind the desk, the one who signs our cheques,
Will get what's coming to him one day,
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5. |
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Leave The Cut Blocks Behind
Babe, leave the cut blocks behind,
And meet me in Grand Prairie tonight,
I've been miserable in the muskeg for weeks,
And your smile would be a nice change of scenery,
I picked a small room in a fancy hotel,
It's not much, but should treat us well,
With a modest bottle of wine and your hand in mine,
We'll make a toast and the most of our little time,
No one said this was the city of love,
Though this prairie city is good enough,
A lucky man I have never been,
Must've been fate that set my loneliness free,
Babe, let's leave these cut blocks behind,
I'll follow you to a proper city this time,
Just off the ocean, and it has never seen snow,
And when the metal's alright then the Rickshaw's a go,
But before our seasonal savings pass us by,
We'll take a plane through that big blue sky,
With some rough rice wine and a budget that'll do us fine,
We'll make memories and pleasantries with our precious time,
No one said this was the city of love,
though this coastal city is good enough,
A lucky man I have never been,
Must've been fate what set my loneliness free,
Babe, we'll leave these cut blocks behind,
And don't dwell about the future it's nothing but bright,
Although up Whiskey Fill we've made a home,
There's another one ahead, wherever we may go,
Our love grows steady as a young tree,
Enduring harsh weather caught in the breeze,
And with your hand in mine, as we leave this town behind,
We'll make the best of what's left and what comes in time,
No one said this was the town of love,
Though this mountain town is good enough,
A lucky man I have never been,
Must've been fate what set my loneliness free.
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Chris Close and Bailey Road Botell Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island
Chris Close started with an old acoustic guitar, 3 power chords, and screaming vocal chords. Over the years, he learned 7 chords and (almost) how to sing. Him and a friend with a harmonica, a singing dog, and a banjo, had a band until some drunk chick broke the neck of the banjo, then the dog got put up for adoption. A fast four piece was later formed with Chris on mandolin. They played a $50 gig. ... more
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