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Let's Celebrate With Blood

by Patrick Canning & The Suffering Mothers

/
1.
This mouth, these teeth they grind for me and make this portion mine And down the road into my throat it goes on down to fill my belly up with love and endless harmony it's time for murder without harm and without crime this steak was raised and stabbed for me it's blood as red as mine It tasted like a bible verse and smelled like smoke and wine And down the road into my throat it goes on down to fill my belly up with love and endless harmony it's time for murder without harm and without crime
2.
Lay down here inside my arms and scold me In the open beehive of your mouth I am ready You've tied a silver chain round my heart and locked me down, locked me down So pull this rusty blade out from my chest Theres no time for weeping eyes There's only heartache left for you In a moment I'll be gone the lightbulb flickers in my room Catch it now don't turn away before this bullet turns on you
3.
And the flies Circle above me in the night They hang just like bad dreams Outside my door The ghost of an elm tree Scratches it's name And whines through the night Sleep, sleep like your bones In the harbour A blanket of Stones And your voice Is humming inside me Speaking in tongues It's layers surround me guiding my heart It's fingers carress me with Invisible hands Binding my lungs Sleep, sleep like your bones In the harbour A blanket of Stones Sleep, sleep like you're told By your father A blanket of stones
4.
Here stands your lover And here he stands cold In this courtroom of black solemn figures And jury that’s yet to be sold You could dip him in chocolate and sugar You could crack his shell under your heel You could try to hold on when his body is gone And your scared from the back of the wheel In the heaviest rains of the winter with these horrible sounds in your ear A fist clenches up in your stomach Your hands slick with sweat while you steer What will you say when you see him And find scissors to cut off his gloves With just nine broken fingers With his face and his cheeks full of blood
5.
A Tired Man 02:52
I'm a tired man I'm a tired man I'm a tired man It's hard to get along I'm gonna lay my head down here Where there's not a bed In a forest fire Until the food expires And if Satan calls me his best friend You know that he's a liar I'm a tired man A tired man A tired man And if Satan calls me his best friend You know that he's a liar I'm a tired man A tired man A tired man
6.
Slight of hand and twisted lips The hot smell lingers on your fingertips Snow crunches deep on this street of shame My house is on fire My children in flames Shut your mouth don't be obscene With your empty pockets And ripping jeans Looking me straight in the eye With the hot piss streaming Down your thigh Nobody cares if your screaming loud On this concrete stairwell Where I pushed you down The taste of pavement and spoiled dreams Is too salty for you In this drunken scene In the darkness where birds go to die Suffer babies with dirt in their eye Tell your mother she's wasted her life Wasted her life Hmmmm
7.
There's something rotten in this well But it's much too dark to see it clear To see it clear When My daughter came back home With that man, that beast, That heathen That heathen I must be hard, woo oo oo oo I must be hard, woo oo oo oo He spoke evil in my home And showed his lust so easy So easy If you cannot fear my lord Then you must learn to fear me To fear me Out in the woods, woo oo oo oo Out in the woods, woo oo oo oo oh, oh, oh They just would not hear my words But they heard my rifle clearly So Clearly There's something rotten in this well But you'll never see it clearly Not clearly
8.
There is hope But it's fleeting It's harder to hold Then a sliver of ice There's a road Leading to somewhere But it's constantly turning And turning And turning And turning And turning for the rest of your life And I know You're only salt water And I know It's not worth a damn And I can feel The slightest of motions And I can see The shape of your hand
9.
The Howl 05:26
It's a massacre With no one left alive And it's hopeless now From where I stand anyway And you're not at home And I can't stand it anymore Put the rifle to my eye Pulled the trigger And let the bullet fly Oh please come home Why don't you call me? Oh please come home Why don't you call me? It's just a phone call babe Why don't you call me? Oh please come home Why don't you call me? Oh please come home Why don't you call me? Oh please come home Why don't you call me? It's just a phone call babe Why don't you call me? Oh please come home Why don't you call me? You hear me howling babe Why don't you call me? Oh please come home Why don't you call me?
10.
I pulled you from the road Found a place for you to lay Just quivering and coughing Up blood on our duvet You were barely breathing Your fur was soaking wet I had nothing I could give you But a blanket and a bed With your tongue falling out of your skull And your claws all caked up with dirt And your bowels spilling all that they've got I wrapped your body in an old cotton shirt I wrapped your body in an old cotton shirt We're on the road to nowhere We're on the road to nowhere
11.
These Hands 05:20
In the darkness I was found Half buried in the ground I turned my head around to see The rescue squad pull us both to shelter I lost use of my hands They hung like limp and useless cloth You didn't understand You just walked around the pond Outside the hospital grounds Well Smoking is hard to do Like everything right now I don't want you to go away But still these hands Can't hold you back no more I take it day to day And still you come around But I can't look at my guitar without Thinking about all the things I know should've done Drinking is hard to do But never hard enough I don't want you to go away But still these hands Can't hold you back no more Maybe water to wine But miracles don't wanna happen twice All these empty canvasses Will never make a critic cry I won't hold you down But these hands can't open up your door I don't want you to go away But still these hands Can't hold you back no more
12.
Wooden Box 04:50
Fm__________F In this wooden box I found you Bb___Bbm__F Carefully arranged ________Fm__________G# Hands folded across you sternum G#sus2/D#(4663xx)__Gdim/C# (x453xx) A cold dis-------------------play (x46xxx)_(x45xxx)__C#(x431xx) C# For ones___you____love And If I could wrap your arms around me And pull you from your grave And just hold you for a moment Here in my arms Here in my arms And if you would ask me I would tell you There's no wrong or right Just a pile of stupid questions In this old world You cannot stand ______C_______________G/B (7,10,9,x,x,x) In this world you're a handful of dirt and stone ________Gm/A# (6,10,8,x,x,x) A broken wheel sends you back ______G/B To the worms where you belong In this world you get mashed up And crushed and stoned Stabbed and burned, hanged and shot Chased back to where you don't belong You don't belong You don't belong You don't belong Not in this place You don't belong You don't belong You don't belong out where I cannot see your face
13.
It was cold where my brother was sleeping He was sleeping for days And in my dreams he was lost in the waves All of the doctors and shamans had nothing to say He just laid there for days. I stared at him through the window The red light of dawn Saying "brother hold on" "Little brother hold on". And I shake him and squeeze him And slap him and pull on his hair He does nothing but stare Barely breathing the air. "Wake up you bastard Wake up!" I scream in his ear Not a blink or a tear When all of your life is upon you You smash it like glass Is this part of your act Brother get off your ass
14.
It's hot outside so keep an eye on Your fat little children As they roll their way to the sea Did it hurt too bad my little man With the cut on your finger As you scream your way back to me No don't you cry my sweet little heart Here's a donut I've hid just for thee It's cold outside and you let your hair Hang down your perfect shoulders And the ocean's blacker then ink You say the words you said to me When we were so much older "I've had way too much to drink" Oh no, don't go back home so soon When I've got you here by the fire And don't try to teach these arms How to hold you just hold on to me And don't try to teach me to dream When my dreams are you here with me

credits

released December 20, 2010

Patrick Canning
Devon Milley
Victor Lewis
Alison Corbett

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Patrick Canning St. John'S, Newfoundland and Labrador

Patrick is an artist type who lives out on the edge of nowhere in St. John's Newfoundland and makes music for himself.

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