SONGS OF THE WILD WEST ISLAND all songs (c) 2006 Scott Loomer Bang the Nails You say your name is Paul I think you think its Jesus I kinda like that hat you wear for Sunday service, such a sense of style But you cry like an angel Then you lie like the devil I’ve got some wood outside it’s just about your size So set the metal to the hone To pierce this skin and break the bone And bang the nails in Straight and true And blame it all on God I recognize your face I think they call you Albert You’ve got some truth to sell; you know I think I saw your wings But you walk like a monkey ‘Cause we’re all just like monkeys You’ve got the keys to the car But you haven’t learned a goddamned thing The Lords of Science pirouette With diamond-jeweled protractor sets To bang the nails in Straight and true And blame it all on God And so we stumble through the night With bits of string and coloured lights To bang the nails in Straight and true And blame it all on God Anastasia Anastasia, won’t you sit right down Please don’t say a word, please don’t make a sound The situation has gone from bad to worse So don’t say anything, Anastasia Fill it in, fill it in, I will bury this old well Find your own damn water; I should burn the house as well Soon I will be swinging, sell what you can sell But first I’ll take this shovel and bury this old well They sent their lawyers in; they came to shut us down We tried to save this seed, but that’s just not allowed They came like locusts, they came for everything So take the pictures down and pass the kerosene Anastasia, please forgive me dear The wolves are at the door and I am desperate tired So take the children, take them in to town And tell them anything, just don’t turn around Caramel Heart You were born with a caramel heart all soft and warm and sticky Melting on the sidewalk in the sun all unprotected Life can be a pair of boots, all hobnails and hard edges Marching straight towards your caramel heart I am just some old ice cream, all cold and hard and grainy Hiding underneath the bread at the bottom of your freezer So won’t you pour your golden love across my icy features Between the cracks and crevices, they’ve been so dark for ages Aren’t you glad we took the time to make this caramel sundae? Tastes like staying out past nine in the middle of the summer Your caramel heart Only Lovers Only lovers will wait for better days In silent vigil they wait for better days And know the difference between forever and the heady scent of youth Only lovers, only lovers can tell the truth So stop your railing, you give yourself away Solemn statements of constancy and faith All these bullet holes and bandages you offer up as proof Only lovers, only lovers can tell the truth Half a life away, the light grows dim The coals are soft and warm and welcome as your skin So hear my witness and know what you have done Velvet whispers drip like honey from your tongue You can tell it on the mountaintop or shout it from the roof Only lovers, only lovers can tell the truth Old Grey Ford Got an old grey Ford and a two-headed calf Take a look out back, just lift the flap Gonna charge a nickel or dime for a view That’s exactly what I’m gonna do Dear Mother please Don’t make me wear no wedding ring With this dirt beneath my feet Dear Father please I’ve got nothing of mine but $1.05 And this wretched beast we filled, and these old grey wheels Dear Brother please Won’t you hold the door while I load these stores? And I’ll be back for you Dear Sister please Don’t you roll those disappointed eyes ‘Cause I’m not as strong as you, I’m gonna write to you I'm gonna go to Montreal Beausecours market stall I'm gonna be a millionaire Nickel at a time gonna get my share Burden of Proof The burden of proof suggests the break of day Will follow on the sun, so quick upon the night There’s no greater truth than this burden of proof The burden of proof will set you in your place As love’s ethereal grace will often choose The bitterest fruit, there’s a burden of proof I’ve been trying to call you Why don’t you meet me at home? We can drive out to Sandbanks maybe Walk in the water there, walk in the water The burden of proof informs us of our stay A turn and then decay, it takes its root Oh sweet bird of youth there’s a burden of proof Dirt Angel I like the way you hold that shovel in your hand You got possibility You’re such a wide-eyed innocent It’s outrageous I know you think that you’ve got problems of your own But as far as I can see Everybody knows the sin is mine And what my wage is Dirt angel you’ve got a hold on me Dirt angel won’t you bury me, bury me Heaven help the ones who stumble in the way And their cold sobriety You got the flaming sword of justice in your hand Why don’t you wave it? I saw you walking down the street the other day And you sure looked good to me A ring of flowers running through your hair And heart courageous Forty days and forty nights I’ve been lying here I’ve been looking for some light but there’ no light to be found Never mind the bloodshot in your eyes You’ve got personality Like old guitars and little scars It’s contagious And goddamn all the gray-haired sycophants And all their dog-eared charity Everybody knows that you have come to Save us Turnbuckle We set this thing on forest green The wood’s good but the earth is uneasy And it’s pulling apart everything What if I turn? Would it be strong enough for that? What if I turn, turnbuckle Would it begin to hold us here? The years go by And these beams have split But you’ve gone; you went off to Chicago And you left me to wrestle with this Everybody knows you can’t get there from here I can pull these ropes or maybe let them be, let them be We set this thing on forest green The love’s good but the heart is uneasy And it’s never the way that it seems Pull Me In Driving down a distant road Blowing dust and willow trees, separating I am covered like a ghost In fine white dust and memories, indicating Hold on I feel the sky around me falling Down, down, falling down And you rise above it all To pull me in, pull me out Standing by an open door, Shallow light and burning leaves, dissipating The smell of winter in the air Cycle brings us to our knees, daylight saving Blood-red tree upon a hill, Like a boy on bended wing, dislocating Flying too close to the sun Just to hear the angels sing, voices fading Sunday Driver Down Up along the 115 And west to Bethany A 30-foot high monument Out there amongst the trees No plastic flowers, no wooden cross And all because of you And your grey Mercedes, leather seats of blue Sunday driver down along the way Sunday driver down at some roadside Waterloo A setting sun, an old half-ton Sure made a mess of you And your grey Mercedes, leather seats of blue And if you look you still may find Some coloured bits of glass From an old stained pane that used to greet The folks at Sunday mass But the auctioneer was loud and clear So we put it in the back Of your gray Mercedes, leather seats of blue Thank you wayward stranger Though you had to pay the price Thanks to you we’ve got ourselves This brand new traffic light So as the scene turns red from green I sit and think of you And your gray Mercedes, leather seats of blue Paper Doll Paper doll, strung out on the line Paper doll, yellowing in time You and I were cut as one We were so beautiful Paper doll, piled up on the floor Paper doll, ten thousand – maybe more Yesterday was new but now it’s gone It was so beautiful Endless Holiday The golden boys are sleeping at their stations The home fires are burning but they’re burning in gasoline The chosen ones are carving up the nation While you’re out there on some endless holiday The shills all rise to dignify their statements Nobody told them the papers have all gone away You think you’re not but you’re just like all the others As you’re out there on some endless holiday We’re already waving goodbye, how did we miss you Nobody’s laughing out loud but everyone’s with you So hold on, hold on Sunday dies as Monday’s light first hovers The faceless are rising as the nameless get on their way The cars collide like disembodied lovers And you’re out there on some endless holiday