Chickenshit & Tablescraps

by New Madrid, MO

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Acoustic songs, demos, and old shit.

Tracks 1-4 were recorded live at House Pride. "It's a Wonderful Lie" was a bonus track on the first couple pressings of the "Pharmer EP". Tracks 9-10 were recorded live at The Outland.

Photo by Megan Bergold, tattoo by Maya Taborsky.

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released November 20, 2010

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New Madrid, MO Springfield, Missouri

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Track Name: Misanthrope (acoustic)
Eye contact has become such a chore. I just wanna stay stoned, stoned and on the floor. I know enough girls, don't wanna meet anymore. When did I get so bored? And when did I become such a misanthrope?

I go to a party where there's no one that I know, I just wanna hang out in the corner with the stereo. I don't got no topics of conversation, man, leave me alone. I'm begging you, can we please go home? And when did I become such a misanthrope?

Well, congratulations, this is all of your fault. I used to blame it on my bad decisions, until you got involved. I'm only happy when I'm alone, my veins clogged up with resin. And if Hell is other people, man, I better get to Heaven.

When did I become such a misanthrope?
Track Name: Sugar Magnolia (acoustic)
Unaccustomed to theater, I struggled to play my part. They were so used to mellow, and I'm so used to being harsh. But Spring sprang soft and pleasant, with beads and blue pipes. And girls with flowers in their hair who kept me up all night.

Makes me wanna sing "Sugar Magnolia", so don't say I ever told ya that I can't find no beauty in some shit I left behind. I've smelled so many Summer flowers in all those gorgeous Summer hours. I'm gonna sing "Sugar Magnolia" 'til you're off of my mind.

Someone's burning rope, and my fingertips keep time, tangled up in long red hair and dancin' down her spine. Patches sewn on blue jeans, and t-shirts soaken wet. We're kissing amongst the graveyard trees every chance we get.

Makes me wanna sing "Sugar Magnolia", so don't say I ever told ya that I can't find no beauty in some shit I left behind. I've smelled so many Summer flowers in all those gorgeous Summer hours. I'm gonna sing "Sugar Magnolia" 'til you're off of my mind.

Incense on skin, and she whispers in my ear. Something about "Wish You Were Here" makes me glad that you're not here. You been keepin' score on my locked door, and all the sunshine acid queens, but it's not the scene that makes me, it's me making a scene.

Makes me wanna sing "Sugar Magnolia", so don't say I ever told ya that I can't find no beauty in some shit I left behind. I've smelled so many Summer flowers in all those gorgeous Summer hours. I'm gonna sing "Sugar Magnolia" 'til you're off of my mind.
Track Name: Thanksgiving (acoustic)
Everyone knows that it’s coming, but no one expects it so soon. We came together like firecrackers, and faded like the light of the moon. And I’m growing to hate November; watched you leave with my eyes on your hips. And I myself, beside myself, went down with all your sunken ships.

And maybe someday the stars’ll shine through these clouds, and maybe then you will understand “Saturn’s hammers ringing through the Rockies, and forging a boy to a man”.

And it’s so so sad that this came to be, so I’m doing what I feel best to do. I’ve swallowed my pride, now I’m fueled by resentment, and I’m walking due East from you.

Don’t think for a moment that I’ll forget your face, or that I will forgive you with time. And if I don’t saying nothing, it’s better than what I’m thinking. Sometimes assholes don’t know how to say goodbye.

Goodbye.
Track Name: Consider the Lilies
I wanna see a sea of raised fists, not camera phones and listlessness. I want the kids to remind us why we’re doing this. We’ll kick our monitors off the stage, cuz we don’t need to hear ourselves anyway, as long as we’re playing what we need to say.

And I say if God does exist, He’s siding with the anarchists, for what could He be but the limitless potentials of Self, an umbilical to the freedom that lives inside of everyone.

We’re gonna blow our spirits out of speaker stacks. That’s how we’ll take the power back.

We’ll never die, because within us there’s no room for death to be found. And why fear the grave when you’ve spent your whole life underground? I’ve read the scriptures of the bathroom stall, I draw the Black Flag bars on every bathroom wall. I always have and I probably always will.

And every morning that Great Machine tears the wings right off my back again. But I don’t mind, because every night I grow them back. And if livin’ like this is such a sin, then who let all these angels in? We’re never gonna be sober again, won’t be sober again.

And I say if true love exists, it’s siding with the anarchists, for what could be more free than total selflessness? Remember we’re just bones and steam, mice in the ocean, controlled burning. Remember we are nothing but everything. So if you want to take control, plug the quarter-inch into your soul.

We’re gonna blow our spirits out of speaker stacks. That’s how we’ll take the power back.
Track Name: Mississippi (Pharmer demo)
It's been so long since I've seen you last, and goddammit you have grown. The way you wave, and all of those curves, you could make a preacher moan. And I think you and I should just rise up, and take back what we own. I've been following you for all of my life, and now it's time I followed you home.

If I had it my way, this highway would never end, and I'd never get to where I'm supposed to be. Infinite horizons frame each passing moment, and I'd follow you into the sea. But the sun sets quicker in the lowlands, and sooner or later, you've gotta stop and take it in. Silent salutes to Mark Twain and cypress roots; we'll cast our grievances to the wind.

It's been so long since I've seen you last, and goddammit you have grown. The way you wave, and all of those curves, you could make a preacher moan. And I think you and I should just rise up, and take back what we own. I've been following you for all of my life, and now it's time I followed you home.

I walk along the levee in the footprint of civil war, and it's like I'm seeing you for the first time; a dirty little town that made the bells in Boston ring. I watch the roadsides, looking for a sign. A sign to tell just what it all means; why can't I see my reflection in the sky? Why can we never really go home, and why do we all have to die?

It's been so long since I've seen you last, and goddammit you have grown. You're swallowing up rivers, bridges, and dams. Rise me up in the foam. One more precision earthquake, flow backwards for a while. Carry me towards home. If I drown in your water, I drown in your arms, and I thank God I won't be drowning alone.
Track Name: Shadow Rock Park (Pharmer demo)
I traded my truck for the Appalachian Trail, now my home's just a place where they send my mail.

Forsyth, MO's where I got my stripes, skateboarding all day and drinking all night. Got beat up by the bullies, the small-town kind whose bodies grow faster than their small-town minds. Taney Country syndrome and substance abuse makes you live all your life like you got nothin' to lose. And I remember thinking that the future looked dark when we dropped all that acid in Shadow Rock Park.

Joined the Marines when I was 18, but they threw me out because I couldn't get mean. So I started drifting and I drifted back home, met a girl from California, made plans for the coast. Last Winter in town we froze for months. We drank to stay warm and we drank to stay drunk. And I remember thinking that the future looked bright when we dropped all that acid at 625.

Woke up driving, I was driving back home. California broke my heart, and she bruised my bones. Ended up crashing with some old school guys. We woke up drunk and we went to bed high.

And I traded my truck for the Appalachian Trail. Now my home's just a place where they send my mail. And now I'm thinkin' that Wisconsin sounds good. I ain't restin' 'til I'm sleepin' in them Northern woods.
Track Name: Memorial Day (live)
It’s Memorial Day, 2084. It’s been a hundred years since I was born. And I wonder if there’s anyone who will remember me. Who will see to it that my grave is swept clean?

Will they say I dug my bootheels in, and refused to give up the ghost? Did I hold tight to this temporary thing? Or did I just lie down with that night train roaring in my ears, and close my eyes to dream the endless dream?

It’s Memorial Day, 2084. It’s been a hundred years since I was born. And I wonder if they’ll be around who can breathe a letter of my name. Will the world go on spinning just the same?

Will a great tremor run through the earth, will the oceans turn to steam? Will all the songbirds forget all their songs? No, the stars will just laugh and shine, the tide will rise and fall, and everything will go marching on.

It’s Memorial Day, 2084. It’s been a hundred years since I was born. And I hope that they speak of me with love and not with shame, cuz I’d rather be forgotten than be blamed.

Will all my tattoos fade to dust, as all my words and all my deeds? All memory that I ever even lived? Will all of the saddest girls turn their backs to my stone, or will they find it in their hearts to forgive?

It’s Memorial Day.
Track Name: Bones + Steam (reggae version)
My life has turned into a series of rest stops, strung together on a ribbon highway. Palm trees and Appalachian furs, Saguaro cactus bending my way. Ain’t got much but I got a name, and I’ll never forget from whence I came; that day my father held me so tight and said that he’d love me forever and always. Got girls waiting in a couple of towns, and as they’re wakin’ up I’m beddin’ down. But for my mistress, I choose the road. The guilt of leaving’s my cross, my load.

So don’t wait up for me. There’s so much more to be seen. Girl, I ain’t nothin’ but bones and steam, to be swallowed up by the Great Machine.

We wrecked a hotel room in Slidell. Lake Ponchartrain, I knew thee well. I seen the sun set over Venice Beach, and the Emerald Coast’s within my reach. But I ain’t settin’ roots, I’m settin’ a charge. Travel up the Mississippi like a St. Louis barge. Drinking Tennessee whiskey under the moonlight, but without you it just don’t seem right.

So don’t wait up for me. There’s so much more to be seen. Girl, I ain’t nothin’ but bones and steam, to be swallowed up by the Great Machine.

I ain’t seen it all yet, but yet I will, until I miss the cedar and I miss the hills. Until I miss my Momma, and my Poppa too, and the satellites that frame the moon. Until I miss Bee Creek where we caught bluegill, and the smell of the garden that’s just been tilled. Until I miss your laugh and your big blue eyes, and the song the frogs sing when the Missouri sun rises.