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Ever Feeding the Hungry Jaws of Hell

by Jon Atkins

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1.
Name Tag 02:54
Carry the harpoon from the boat, For the old man is spent, ‘Cause he did what he was. And with his grey-haired list of fairytales, In spite of what they are, They made him a way to a new start. Show her the path for she is lost, Hear Alice weep, ‘Cause she is what she does. And in her white-skinned style she gave herself, Some very good advice, But it gave her away to a new find. Do the canons ring in your ears? Do they fire from afar, or from near? Do they tell you what’s wrong with them? Or do they tell you what’s wrong within? Does there have to be all this doubt? That everyone does better without. And if they knock at your door right then, Set it aside, let them come in. Carry the name tag for yourself. See it weigh us down, When we are what we do.
2.
Sleeping Man 03:06
There is a man I call a friend of mine of all the ages, He is the martyr of my life and comes with many names and faces, Mind you, when we met I did not care for his smug indifference, There was a painful set of twins within our unsaid resemblance. Nonetheless we had a connection, Not with words, with a common affliction, We were sleeping man. On the road to be reconciled, the spirit goes with a weak mind, It is not my job to make you feel right, they are not the reason you never smile. So we lay beneath the singing trees and shady branches, Blaming all the world for never granting second chances, We remember when the dream we had became a nuisance, Whatever shines in me it shines in you and we could use it. Some time soon I will make a commitment, To forgive you and end the resentment, Of the sleeping man. On the road to be reconciled, the spirit goes with a weak mind, You be the ears and I will be the eyes to be awake for the first time.
3.
Good King 03:46
Window shade completely drawn, When daylight breaks you stay down. Dear friend you overslept, See the enemy reveal himself, Dream, dream you’ll never have enough. You have enslaved yourself. On your back your head says, “Make time for the warmth of bed.” Some say run, but you know running, And running take time away From your heavy rest, And that won’t happen today. Dearest king you know it’s me, To reconcile before you die, The old man said he was breaking up, He had despised the ways of his lost son. “I hated all of you, even the best of you, So I played my songs and didn’t move. And all the rest of you, I hated all of you, So I stayed in bed and didn’t move.” And the old man said he would not be missed. And I asked, “Well what’s the point of this?” He replied while remaining motionless, “You have to figure that out on your own kid.” Good king you over-spent. Your heirs and queen are sick. Sing, sing! You’ll never be ignored. You have ruled my world.
4.
Is it wrong to abhor our birthday? Is it wrong to adore its death? Have my pleasure, have my pain, Or have my farewell instead. Is it wrong to repeat a history? Is it wrong to desire it again? Have my weakness, have my strength, And have it all as it stands. I rue the fools who invented these highways. Who could think with so much space? Take my bliss and take my rage. Take us away. They made the house on the hill too far. Let us dance to the screaming pine trees. Let us watch as the moment leaves. Here your mountain hears me sing. Here I am close to nothing. Let me live in a Styrofoam suitcase. Let me fail in a painless grave. Hear my wants and know my place, For mine is the soul of a runaway. I had a lack with the best I could be. Disengaged from the very first plea, Found my Adam, found my Eve. Found out my reach. And they made the house on the hill too far.
5.
Lumber Eyes 03:53
Soon the parasite will prowl amid the night for us. Hostile artisan of vice will start again for us. Beware the demon-head is fixed with wet cement, To hold one in his clutch. He keeps the walking dead aware of nothing yet he, Turns a despondent trust. Then he says my name, What master wants is lying in the street. How marvelous, he responds to me, With succulent promises, I’m sold. He tempts the fair, but I’m the one who goes. Now a gentle win entices those within for us. A subtle discrepancy in desire and clemency for us. And underneath it all the prowling beast is on, The drag from heart to head. He sees with lumber eyes and feels with human fire, Souls from right to left. Then he says my name, What master wants is lying in the street. How marvelous, he responds to me, With succulent promises, I’m sold. He tempts the fair, but I’m the one who goes, Celebrating the fall of man again. You know it is slow, it will destroy you nevertheless. Everyone goes, ever feeding the hungry jaws of hell. The eating is slow. Is it alright? I never could tell. Am I alright? I never could tell. (what’s happening over here?)
6.
Baptism 04:30
I turned a profit on the rule: To get, one must learn how to give. And all I got was a life not to live. I was showing off again, To all how humble I could get. They’ll never see how I would make myself sick. With the soldiers of the fortress, Night will take these sights away. For in the dark I am allowed to stay. There is a nothing in the field I live in, Love is kept at bay. I have a habit and it pulls me away. Because I don’t know, I won’t go. Understand that when I shake your hand, I do so mostly blind. I am not careful with what goes inside. This cathedral is a tomb, Where pomp and pride come to deny. I can’t imagine how they feel on the inside. Oh come encourage what is frowned upon, But for me, you know it is right. I need a conscience to design the inside. And in the meddle of the soul, I hear of winds and floods of light. Can you imagine what they look like inside? Because I don’t know, I won’t go. Along the shoreline I made your will mine. I am amazed at the way that you taste under Pacific waves. You are the life-giver. You are the soul-singer. I am amazed at the way that you love when there is nothing to love in this.

about

I wanted to add something to my chord-and-lyric songs; but not something crazy like bass or percussion; something as minimal as possible. On February 8th there was heavy rain and hail around my home. The sound of it works good behind these gloomy songs. My sister Emily helped with some other sound effects throughout the little work. All of it was done in a day with the recording device on an iphone.

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released February 8, 2013

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Jon Atkins San Diego, California

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