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Losing Teeth

by The Scarring Party

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1.
Losing Teeth 02:34
Losing Teeth We fed on honey in our prime thickened around the middle and lost our minds pecked at the pills that we were served like gravel to the gizzard of our frayed nerves poisoned sleep with ugly dreams we’re losing teeth Every mirror cracked and window black Our lungs expand in hot-blown glass Stirring to the sounds of white noise choirs Humming and whining through the snaking wires Shaking our branches in the wind We’re losing leaves We’re losing teeth Crying over milk spilled out our eyes Bowing nickel-wound veins with kitchen knives Like the chewed lower lip of Camille Claudel Waiting for her lover at the gates of hell We wag our tongues and gum our meat We’re losing teeth Tugging at the roots ‘til our gums bleed Each tooth clattering in the sink Pliers to the corner of a raspberry grin Blood brims our lips- spills past our chin And it’s off to bed We lay our heads We’re off to sleep No more losing teeth
2.
Wing 02:02
Wing As a boy in southern Spain, he was born with a silver wing It poked through collars and tore jacket sleeves Always there where folks could see As a boy in southern Spain, folks would stare at his silver wing Like his mama’s temper or his father’s crying He grew accustomed to staring eyes. His church raised money, and his family sent for a doctor from Algeciras A fragile woman with trembling hands arrived by train with a single bag On a gray steel table, the young man laid. The doctor, she stood over him. Her hand was trembling. She drew a blade Down his back, along his wing. His chest rose with an anguished gasp. The gauze soaked through. His color left. Blood pooled down along his back. His chest fell with his last breath. The doctor left on the morning train With butcher’s paper and a single bag. The grieving family couldn’t afford a grave For the young man with the silver wing.
3.
Raymond Dogboy Raymond was a dogboy… mama fed him off the kitchen floor. Raymond was a dogboy… chewed the gristle from the chicken bone Mama came home from work one night with a bottle of gin and a butcher’s knife Sat Raymond on the counter by the cutting board while papa and Jackie held him still Papa held him close, while Raymond winced through his nose. When the knife came down, he bit Papa’s finger to the bone. Raymond was a dogboy, but he ain’t a dogboy anymore. Raymond was a dogboy… pissed any place they laid the paper down. Raymond was a dogboy… always chewing one of Jackie’s dolls. Mama blew away like smoke one day, and Jackie ran off to find her He drew pictures of ghosts on the bedroom walls Traced the silhouettes they left behind them With an oven mitt on his bandaged hand Papa shaved young Raymond before putting him down to bed Raymond was a dogboy, but he ain’t a dogboy anymore Raymond was a dogboy… nibbled off his papa’s ear. Raymond was a dogboy… crawled on all fours everywhere. But some nights he would wander far away, Sleepwalking upright on his hind legs He’d paint little faces on the backs of boards The faces that he’d seen in the children’s ward His commissioned work on the pages of a magazine Now he laps Romaine-Conti in the back of his limousine Raymond was a dogboy, but he ain’t a dogboy anymore
4.
Angela 05:18
Angela Underneath the folding of your daddy’s wing Seldom every seen or heard It’s there you disappeared in those missing years Never to have said a word Like Saint Anthony or Ellen James Tell us what has got your tongue. Angela, why do you keep on holding on. Like a rattlesnake coiled around an easter egg Snoozing in the springtime heat. The frost on your cold shoulder drives the birds down south In the shadow of your daddy’s reach. You cut out your tongue Underneath, we found a medicine chest of every pill you never swallowed down. Angela, why do you keep on holding on.
5.
Lie Beside Me Darling Underneath My Stone When I was a young thing, I had a ten-inch nose Two fabulous pinchers and a wardrobe of sores And all of the painted ladies scattered as I’d approach Singing, “lie besided me, darling, underneath my stone” Back in ’97 at the mouth of my cave A woman in a horseless carriage may have smiled at me. I chased her across the plains, as she fled to the coast Crying, “lie beside me, darling, underneath my stone” Found a lover tangled in a gown of weeds Face down in the water, cold and mossy green. Grabbed a hold of her wrist Fished her out of the creek Pried apart her fist so she could wear my ring Now, I’m an old man, and my lover’s dead and gone. I swallowed down her dirt, and I kiss at all her bones. I found a shady place, and I dug a six-foot hole So I can lie beside my darling underneath my stone
6.
Last Night at the Bacchanal In the wee dark hours, she’s gone from bed She stole herself away but when morning breaks, she’s at my side again A bruised cheek… a bloodied lip Leaves left tangled in her graying nest of hair She’s there again Where did you go Late last night, you rose from bed On your toes, the door creaked wide And then whined closed, when you left I tied my boots and buttoned my coat Crunched miles of leaves Flickering between the trees, a fire glowed. You were waiting last night at the bacchanal You were waiting but I never came All the men, women and children naked around the fire Last night at the bacchanal She had a fawn by its legs Stretched its flesh… its insides opened like a grin Tore it limb from limb In fire light, her jaundiced silhouette Faint stains traced where all of their bloody hands had been All I could do was run, until each breath burned my lungs You were waiting last night at the bacchanal You were waiting but I never came All the men, women and children naked around the fire Last night at the bacchanal In the wee dark hours, I lie awake Face the wall alone in bed But when morning breaks, she’s at my side again
7.
Mean 03:10
Mean It ain’t easy being mean. In effete morality, I maintain a masquerade of earnestness and modesty It ain’t easy being mean. Four in five bastards agree sincerity falls casualty to common courtesy. I don’t apply my brake when I see children in the street at play. I’d wring a helpless kitten’s neck just to watch its color change. It ain’t easy being mean… a sea of negativity Rubbing calloused palms to greet each new catastrophe It ain’t easy being mean… to bite one’s tongue until it bleeds Or feign interest in the ho-hums and oh-ums others speak. I toss antacids to the squawking gulls when I picnic at the beach And when Sunday mass lets out, I throw stones at the elderly Charlie, you were the honest son Growing up I was the other one Always measured against your name I was a faint gray line in a doorway. It ain’t easy being mean, acting vulgar and obscene. Societal pressures impede one’s leisure life to such extremes It ain’t easy being mean, speaking free and honestly of my limitless contempt for every single living thing. I love the squeal of a wheelchair rolling down a flight of stairs. I sleep with all of my friends’ wives and I brag about my affairs. Charlie, you were the honest son Growing up, I was the other one. If mama, could have lived to see I think she’d be so proud of me.
8.
How Far Down Does This Hole Go Agnes left her son When drawing him a bath He slipped through the grate and disappeared down the drain Forty years of restless nights She hears her baby boy crying in the pipes Oh, how far down does this hole go So help me g-d, I hope I never know When I was five, a family friend Forced his prick in my hand Threatened me to secrecy With a twist of my skinny little wrist As mercy had it I never saw him or his tiny prick again Oh, how far down does this hole go So help me g-d, I hope I never know This is hell This is hell And all my friends are here This is hell This is hell And I’m with my friends again
9.
Cut 02:35
Cut A long long winter in hell left her numb numb numb The first frost fell and her scars blinked shut Icicles hang like a row of fangs Above the blood-suckers circling ‘round her grave All the baby worms wanna play in her dirt My daddy says we get what we deserve A carnivorous flower, my heart closed shut shut shut Daddy told me, “Son, know when to run” But now, daddy’s in hell… mama can’t be found My little sister’s lying in the ground All the baby worms wanna play in her dirt Daddy says we get what we deserve Everybody must Everybody must Everybody must get cut A long long winter in hell left me numb numb numb I swallowed my pride and held my tongue A razor chips my teeth where I hid it in my cheek All the baby birds wanna suck on my worms Supper will be served When you finish your dessert Everybody must Everybody must Everybody must get cut
10.
Still Around 04:03
Still Around Wesley overdosed a year ago Took his girl, Beth, with Never showed up at the funeral And it was years since we talked last Now, they’re gone But I’m still around… for now Clara met somebody after me Less allergic to the truth Worked as a maid and moved far far away I sent an unanswered letter or two Now she’s gone But I’m still around… for now What became of my old actress friend New York collapsed and she stopped writing Some boats they pull away from the harbor And end up swallowed by the horizon Now, she’s gone But I’m still around… for now Tabitha married a farmer in Darien Settled down and had a couple brats Battled cancer and remission off and on Until one Christmas back, we got the call Now, she’s gone But I’m still around… for now One day all of your letters Will return to you unanswered I’ll lift anchor and try finding The hungry mouth of that horizon I’ll get gone But you’ll stick around
11.
Step Inside 04:21
Step Inside The sky did not open The seal remained unbroken The trumpets never sounded Only rifles broke the silence I looked into my lord’s eyes, and I saw fire Like a lion with his pride Or Alexander with a spear in his side Like Josiah’s kingdom burning This was mine Step inside Step inside this fire I’ve set for you and I See the wheel that turned in Ezekiel’s eye Step inside and see it burn in mine I gathered all of the branches I could carry in my hands Casting my seed down to the wind and stony ground I took my branches hands inside the fire Like a long plough-bent sword Buried deep in my throat Like a lamb off to the lion’s den Off we went… off we went Step inside this fire I’ve set for you and I See the wheel that turned in Ezekiel’s eye Step inside and see it burn in mine
12.
Bible in a Drawer Clara was my boyhood love She sliced across her stomach once Her parents rushed her to the hospital In sixty days, when she returned She was saved or so I heard Her newfound virtue swallowed down her charm Well acquainted with her lord His savage will and his accord Clara and I don’t talk at all no more The Clara I remember I swear I loved her better when she used to keep her bible in a drawer This one enlisted boy I knew Liked to talk but never screw Before we could, they sent him off to war Though he was too polite to say I sensed something in the way Echoes from a bible in a drawer Before my mother spoke in tongues She and I could talk for hours I’d pester her as she would tend to chores In recent years, I fear, we don’t have the same rapport As when she kept her bible in a drawer Boys and girls, listen here Though I know my time’s not here Let me assure you this before I go I read it years ago, but I won’t swear on it before They tag my toe and slide me in a drawer

credits

released June 18, 2013

Engineered by Kevin Dixon and Shane Hochstettler
Tracks 4, 9, 11 & 12 engineered by Shane Hochstettler
Mixed by Shane Hochstettler at Howl Street
Mastered by Justin Perkins at Mystery Room
Cover by Ray Caesar
Design and Additional Illustration by Jason McDowell

All songs written by Daniel Anthony Bullock
Published 2010© Scarring Party Music ASCAP

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The Scarring Party Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Milwaukee "end timey" quartet blends music hall and early American roots music to draw macabre character sketches with accordion, banjo, tuba and unorthodox percussion.

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