THE LOVERS PART TWO

DESPERATION WALTZ Try us. If you got a reason I don't ant to hear it. Buy us. You can't afford to just even get near it. Slide show. Pictures of nothing and nothing plus hearsay. Pride low. Come up for air and then watch it turn our way. Closed up. In both physical and emotional ways. Nose up. A false display of hope why it's still a display. Comfort. Meted out just like a pill from a doctor. Sore sport. It's you and it's me and it's us and it's them. Waltzing to me, desperation. Waltzing to me then away. Creep show. Just like a sign on a motionless freeway. Held low. Again and again while a sign flashes "no way." Outside. And inside and outside and inside again. False pride. Hell it's as good as the real thing and then some. Waltzing to me, desperation. Waltzing to me then away. Waltzing to me desperation. Waltzing to me. Stop. Come here. But then again just go turn back around. Fun here. Or there or wherever it's good to be found. Control. Buy it or sell it or let it just sit. Hello. And goodbye at the same time the same time the same time. Waltzing... Dave Linantud - guitars and vocals Brian Lutz - bass, engineering, mixing C.J. Johnson - drums Recorded at Possum Studios spring 2016

DISASTER TIME Dawn comes from the outside she's got no insider's touch Society's fringe, she's raring to binge, on drink and drugs and lust She lives life by the moment, she falls in and out of love She's randommer still, insane, if you will, no below or above Angel White's kind of silly he's deserted in an urban maze He sees stars in the sun, depressingly fun, imploding guns ablaze He lives life for the dying he's got no insider's touch Society's fringe, a bombastic cringe, existence is never clutch It's just disaster time The sky melts patiently The hovering evil lurks for you and me It's a catastrophic world Where we don't amount to much We're sacrificial lambs for such and such The last time I saw Elvis that sumbitch grew a beard He gave up the pills, he got into stills, it really ain't that weird He's stalking Dawn and Angel he put 'em in a book Society's fringe a bloody syringe as if love is all it took I done seen all three dancing I seen it clear as day Nightmarish hued, horror imbued, beautiful in its way Obsessed with this fucking opera I'm walking through its streets Society's fringe, gut-bucket hinge, write, learn, play, repeat Dave Linantud - guitars and vocals Brian Lutz - bass, engineering, and mixing C.J. Johnson - drums Produced at Possum Studios

IF I DIE TONIGHT If I die tonight I would be alright Because I don't want to live If I had a chance with my decadence Well then my life is all I could give I would sacrifice for the other life That somehow might not end If I had to guess I would ask this mess Would never come again If I have to fall I implore you all Not to follow what I done If I had a choice with my lonely voice I would pull the trigger of this gun If I die tonight I would be alright Because I don't want to live If I had a chance with my decadence Well then my life is all I could give If I die tonight I'm gonna live Live on and on and on Dave Linantud: guitar and vocals T. Chris Johnson: violin Produced by Brian Lutz Engineered by Greg Humphries

OLD MAN BLUES Old man blues, understand? Drunk as shit, I'm a man I seen 'em rise and I seen 'em fall Don't fuck with me, son I'll whup your ass, all y'all Say what's up yo baby what's up Said I try to figure out yo baby what's up I moan the blues I ain't ever died I ain't never laughed I ain't never cried Shook hands with the devil cut my deals with the Lord I'm froze to iron of what you can't afford Said what's up I seen the rules so I done wrote my own I deconstructed the gospel with a black cat bone The thorn covered rail that's the path of the righteous Got the voodoo hoedown just don't wait to invite us You know vengeance ain't passion it's a loser's gold Dawn's eyes shine a light make a slight man bold Where the swamp licks the ocean that's where we meet our fate So if you're running to Jesus your ass better not be late Say what's up Dave Linantud - guitars and vocals Brian Lutz - bass CJ Johnson - drums Possum Studios

LOVE SONG There's a feeling yes a feeling I got for you call it true love In the morning in the evening Open on up call it true love Ain't no sunshine ain't no dark clouds When you're with me it's all back ground Fading sunshine It's about time We're together here forever Life means nothing if I can't have you 'Cause I love you Dave Linantud - vocals and guitar Brian Lutz - bass CJ Johnson - drums Produced by Brian Lutz at Possum Studios Mastered by Ian Burke at Invisible Studios

WATCHING IT ON TV Rain all the time 'cause her lover's gone Rage in the sunshine never to belong Crack in the windshield of a wasted throng Clear through the morning to be watching it on TV She breaks the skin and the needle's free No sleep tonight and it's almost three Never again try to not agree Clear through the morning to be watching it on TV All night long She buys a new pack of cigarettes She sits around and tries to forget She waits for something that's not regret Clear through the morning to be watching it on TV Rage in her eyes but she's nodding out Slumped by the wall in her mind she shouts "Why is it everything's wrong about" Watching it on TV But there ain't no TV screen He's here and he's feeling mean The city will hide the screams Dave - guitars and vocals Brian - bass, engineering, mixing CJ Johnson - drums Ian Burke - mastering

SHE'S AFRAID OF YOU You spent all your time on Who you climbed the walls for Spent all of your money too She feels like an outcast This true love did not last She is getting tired of you Spend the days growing colder Yeah She's already gone She's afraid of you Ignore all of her bruises Concentrate on bad things Hit her when you're feeling bad She wouldn't bear your children Miscarried your first born son First one that you ever had Spend the days in icy silence Yeah She moves out She's afraid of you And the days go on She came back one day and You felt like a real man You hit her just a bit too hard You made up a gravestone Laid her out on flagstone Buried her in your back yard Dave Linantud: Guitars, vocals Ryan Bowen: Drums Greg Humphries: bass Produced by Brian Lutz Mixed by Drew Mazurek Engineered by Greg Humphries

DAWN'S EULOGY You wanted something more than just somebody at the door What you got was something less you're thinking "what in heaven for" Ain't never got no flowers just take it one day at a time Places lose their meaning and life becomes a rhyme I said you take it as it comes and that's a rule of thumb Sometimes you feel you ain't begun hell you're not the only one Wake up your pillow's wet while it's lying on the floor If kindness is a virtue you're thinking, "baby, what in heaven for": Looking for your dad in all those guys who turned out bad Broken expectations are all that you have had A failure brings a heartache that a pill can't ever cure Searching and feeling empty you're thinking "baby, what in heaven for What in heaven for" After all that time avoiding pessimism laughs out loud The faces they look different ain't no solace in a crowd Old friendships fly away like a bird does in the fall Submerged in isolation you're feeling two foot small I said you take it as it comes and that's a rule of thumb Sometimes you feel you ain't begun hell you're not the only one Wake up the pillow's wet while it's lying on the floor If kindness is a virtue you're thinking "what in heaven for What in heaven for" On the day that Dawn was killed nobody even knew 'Cause there's a million deaths in the city minus one or two The murder of a whore is as tragic as can be She meant more than that to you She meant more than that to me What in heaven for You can live your life in sorrow But what in heaven for? Dave - guitars and vocals Brian - bass, engineering, mixing CJ - drums Ian - mastering

BABY BLUE There he stood on the doorstep for a time Wanna work for a nickel for a dime Mommy who Daddy who he don't know Better now, he ain't beat, where's he go? He's gonna roam the street Then he steal a piece of meat This is no place for a kid He's the crime that others did He doesn't know what to do No orphanages coming true Streets that are splattered with his blood Streets where we walk in the sun There he sleeps by the trashcan for a night Abandoned child, just a child, it ain't right Mommy who, Daddy who, he don't care Middle March, nose it runs feet are bar Dave: vocals and guitar Brian - bass, engineering,production CJ - drums Ian - mastering Colleen - upstairs reading

TORN DRESS BLUES There's a torn dress in the corner I don't know where it's from I got bloody knuckles and I got a broken thumb There's a shovel by the door I don't know why it's there I got dirty fingernails and blood all in my hair I thought it was er tat I buried but I seen her walking down the street If it wasn't her that I buries I guess it must have been me The Blues is half of the essential handbook for any serious musician in the United States of America. By "the blues" what folk scholars actually mean is "music created by Africans in America." The other half is the folk music the Europeans conjured when confronted by this vast land trying to hold onto their roots. Neither is more important than the other. There's no guilt for being more in one camp than the other. In a land where certain freedoms are guaranteed in writing if not practice the only music jettisoned by the masses is that of the high born and educated, which is a goddamn fucking dirty shame. It's encapsulated by the banjo, an African instrument beloved by the ones whose necks are sunburned. As Johnny Cash would say, "meditate on it." The indigenous music got fucking trampled. Dave Linantud: Guitars, vocals Ryan Bowen: Drums Greg Humphries: bass Produced by Brian Lutz Mixed by Drew Mazurek Engineered by Greg Humphries