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lyrics

I heard a man singing to his chainsaw
I saw a small mean town
pretend to be asleep
I felt my gut strain against my shirt
I wondered how many chins were underneath this beard

I heard a voice heating up the music
and carrying words risen cold up from the grave
I saw the fish and frogs wash
right up over the sandbags
I saw the eel spin clockwise and slither down the drain

Storms of hungry moths chewed right through my closet
and now my favourite shirt has holes all over the sleeves
I'll occupy this robe to teach you severance of arousal
in retaliation for all the times you turned away

I ate too much tonight, so much of me is empty
and now I cannot move I'm even sinking through the floor
the cot is folded up and the dust is quickly forming
and no-one here has the courage to open up that drawer.

credits

from Drumgoold Death Trip EP, released March 14, 2015

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Alan Dobbs & The Likes of Him Ireland

Musician and writer based currently in Dublin. Over a sixteen year period he has released a number of recordings on his own Chimerical Systems label, fitfully shuffling between straight-ahead singer songwriter output, electro-acoustic composition and mindless obfuscation. He has now disavowed confessional acoustic self-deprecation. A new album 'Terraform Time' will be released in September 2023. ... more

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