Mud Tongue

by Boog

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All tracks recorded live in one session, Sunday 02/21/16

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released March 14, 2016

Recorded, Mixed, Mastered by Rich Gavalis at Dome Sound Studio, Royersford, PA
Album Artwork by Chelsea Dodge of Bloodache Brigade - bloodachebrigade.storenvy.com

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Boog Pennsylvania

One-man Explosion.

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Track Name: Circle The Drain
The first time you swallowed me
there was no doubt in my mind that it was love
My cracked & bloodied fingers were the perfect fit
for your colorfully knit kid gloves
But the second time you did it, my certainty waned
I was as scared as a black ant caught in a slobbering rain

& though we hadn’t yet parted,
that’s when it started
for fear, I turned blackhearted and set our love about to
circling the drain

The first time you touched my face
there was no doubt in my mind, our nerves were kindred
You were the hottest bloom at the end of June,
& I was a fool not to pick you ‘til winter
Thrown & put together, just like pure science-fiction—
It was all i could do to be your two-penny prince

& though we hadn’t yet started,
fate had you outsmarted
From then on, our course was charted
We were forever doomed to
circle the drain

& since the last time you called to me,
it isn’t unusual for me to tope
when the midsummer moon fills up my room
with the same china hue as your skin. I hope you
put my flowers in alcohol & choked off the bottle,
so they can live to see you happy in the arms of another

& when their color’s departed,
know that your plan isn’t thwarted
Those blossoms have only started
to know how it feels to
circle the drain
Track Name: Savage
I can kill that mulberry tree with a few coppers nails
Three or four, and it’ll die
I could sure use a friend,
but these days savages are in such short supply

Now I’m standing in the Bamboo Bar
Drinking Mexican beer on the fourth of July
Hell, I could use a friend right now,
but these days a savage is so hard to find

I’m an unkeepable secret
I just keep giving myself away
And when I do, you don’t even believe it
‘It’s not possible,’ you say

Tell me, where can I find a savage?
Scrawling glyphs on the walls of a cave
A ruthless, but well-kept savage
where can I find a savage
in this modern age?

I can feel our shoulderblades touch,
and I like it very much, but
You won't get me to dance. Don’t even try.
God knows I need a friend
Heaven send me a savage with embers for eyes

Tell me, where can I find a savage?
Scrawling glyphs on the walls of a cave
A ruthless, but well-kept savage
where can I find a savage
in this modern age?
Track Name: Sour Cute
Streak your eyelids cyan
Plump your lips with cayenne
You are yours, you’re in no man’s thrall
when you make yourself up like a doll

A heavy wind may make you light
but it don’t make you a kite
with your winged backpack, you’ll reach great heights quite soon,
while I’m hacking sandbags off a sinking hot air balloon

But would you bend over backwards for me?
I’m not that nimble myself, but I’m good on my knees
and I’m eager to please

Speak to me in absolutes,
Gothic lolita, sour cute
The truth lies in doing what the others can’t do,
while the ones you used to screw will try to put you to the screws

Just keep that lift to your head,
or they’ll keep shooting till you’re dead
and a cherry red river of glitter’s gonna run
from those tarantula lashes to that candy-stained tongue

But would you take one point-blank for me?
I don’t photograph well, but I like being seen
in your company

しょうがない
仕方が無い
It cannot be helped
Track Name: (Exercise My) Demons
I took a leave to raise hell
Now my baby’s grown
But she’s grown so complacent
traipsing out on her own
I’ve got to exercise my demons
Before they all go soft

Worry, worry, why you worry
About her all the time?
Well, I’ve gotten so much practice,
It’s become a point of pride
I’ve got to exercise my demons
Before they start to stray away from me

When I’ve got nothing to say, I will force it
I will cozen, cajole, and coerce it, coax it forth
There’s nothing worse than shooting a gift horse,
Then beating it past death, only to kneel
And kiss your jockey’s feet

Tell me, who’s that red devil
In the powder blue tie?
But, then again, when my blues burn green,
Who am I?
I’ve got to exercise my demons,
Before they all turn yellow

I bite my words back,
It’s like keeping down live eels
I could eat a ten-course meal
Of what I thought I ought to feel
I’ve got to exercise my demons:
It’s just too many mouths to feed

It’s a backwards forward motion
A lone blowup boat in a hopeless ocean
It’s punctured, but it’s floating
Got no heading, but I’m rowing,
If only to put the sky and the sea behind me

I’m hotter than a comet
Making steam in the rain
Set them Furies on me, please:
I’m killing urges I cannot contain
Track Name: Red Flag/Blood Moon
You replaced your summer sundresses with cigarette jeans
went back to blonde and carried on, twenty-five going on eighteen
singing Springsteen at the moose lodge, Karaoke queen
You came out of it clean

But you did me dirtier than a Mailer novel
Left me emptier than a lager bottle
in a scene that played out like an Aeschylus drama
for the whole town to see

I get it, he was a manchild and you needed somebody to mother
and why settle for just one love, when you can go find another
To think of all the times that guy called me his brother
You live and you learn

Our friends all fought to have my back or first rights to stab it
They made my pain out to be just another bad habit
but they keep toting me around like the foot of a rabbit
That takes some nerve

Eyeing a spot of sky where the blood moon sits listless
I count the passing hours on my quivering digits
and await the unlikely chance to grant you forgiveness
you don’t deserve

I made a fist around fifteen bills as I passed by the clinic
and straightened out my spine beneath those old woeful bridges
to deliver to that worm three hundred bucks and good wishes
he didn’t deserve

How humble is his tongue when it sunders your lips?
How wholesome is his pulse under your fingertips?
How honest are his eyes, intent on seeing your skin,
or his hands when they visit all the places where mine have been?

Eyeing a spot of sky where the blood moon sits listless
I count the passing hours on my quivering digits
and await the unlikely chance to grant you forgiveness
you don’t deserve

Oh well, what’s a red flag, against a blood moon?
Was there ever a more clever disguise?
Let the slag of the steel town run over my grave when I die
Track Name: Dolt
She dressed for a funeral
some time after midnight
I lie naked as an unusual newborn
exposed on a mountainside
Caught up in the lunar pull
treading water till the first rays of daylight
She asked if I was okay
I told her I was all right,
which was a lie
She pressed me further
but I won't
Dolt

Last night I dreamt I went to trial
As if my guilt need be proven
She led me by the hand down empty aisles
The jurors' seats were a vacant dozen
From the stand I watched her shuffle files
My body all but frozen
I hoped that there wasn’t a bible near
for half truths would be spoken
We locked eyes
She said, 'Just a few questions now.
Let’s get some things out in the open.
Is that string around your finger a rubber band?
So, an elastic bond cannot be broken?
When you held me close, were you just painting my smile
on the lips of your once-betrothed?
Did you your faith defile
when you tore off all my clothing?
Don’t be shy!'
I said, ‘Let me please remind you
that all the while your hand was clutching mine
I spoke no oath, dolt.’

I awoke before the sentencing,
though I imagine it was brief
When I saw the sun at daybreak
what I felt wasn’t relief
Because this wasn’t the sin, but the reckoning
a burial, a cause for grief
So I’m going to lie right here in the bed I’ve made,
hung like a horse thief
Damn my eyes
If I could take a knife to my beliefs—
Don’t
Dolt
Track Name: Further Every Day
His is a church for sinners,
& I’m a beginner but
I fall further every day

i’m in it for all the wrong reasons,
but i’m in it for the right ones, too
You can’t believe everything that they say

What fool doesn’t want to get paid?
Show me the man who doesn’t want to get laid

His is a church for sinners,
& I’m a beginner but
I fall further every day

Baby’s got such tiny hands
but man she can’t
keep them busy enough

what does she do
when the fat that you two chew
proves to be just a little too tough?

Does she shake her head and say ‘That’s enough’
Or is it ‘Take me now, daddy, give it to me rough’

Baby’s got such tiny hands
but man she can’t
keep them busy enough

The first time I lied to you
I couldn’t hide it. I did what
I did in plain view

I tried so hard to hold its chain
in vain, but now it’s hungry
and on the move/loose

That lie hurts me more than it’s hurting you
Or maybe that’s a lie too

The first time I lied to you
I couldn’t hide it. I did what
I did in plain view

My mother’s in the kitchen
doing dishes
washing knives

If it weren’t for my mother
I couldn’t be bothered to
keep myself alive

Now two prayers push past my lips:
DON’T LET. FORGIVE.

While my mother’s in the kitchen
doing dishes, scrubbing pots and plates
I’m kneeling in a church for sinners,
an eager beginner,
falling further every day
Track Name: Peaks & Valleys
I'd been smoking cigarettes like I could afford them
and contemplating suicide in my Mid-Atlantic doldrums
'Peaks and valleys,' said my friend, when he got clean in twenty-ten
Now he's back in West Philly, shooting junk again

Peaks and valleys, but no even ground
Peaks and valleys, never leveling out
You're shouting and crying,
but not making a sound when you speak
You shoulder a boulder up the valley slope,
but never quite reach the peak

So, I had to find what was missing and remove what was in my way
I fortified my birdcage, emptied out my ashtrays,
I sweated out the poison, washed and folded my towels
I reshaped my mortal clay, baby, and look at me now

It's still
Peaks and valleys, but no even ground
Peaks and valleys, never leveling out
You're laughing and smiling,
but not making a sound when you speak
You shoulder a boulder up the valley slope,
but never quite reach the peak

I've got dreams in need of hope
and nightmares that don't dare quit
I'm full of charm, I'm full of love, I'm full of guilt,
I'm full of lies, I'm full of shit
Sometimes I want to kiss my reflection,
Other times, I want to tell him, 'Grab the gun, son: this is it.'

So, I'm back to smoking cigarettes like I can afford them
and contemplating suicide, this time purely out of boredom
I'm a wholly different man in my head than when I'm lying in your bed
But if you bring me into your life, baby, remember when I said
that I'm back to smoking cigarettes like I can afford them
and deciding whether or not suicide is dulce et decorum
I'm a wholly different man holding a pen than lying in your bed
But if you keep me in your life, baby, remember when I said that it's

Peaks and valleys, but no level ground
Peaks and valleys, never evening out
There's a shudder in your throat,
but you don't make a sound when you speak
You watch the boulder roll down the slope,
as you're just about to reach the peak
Track Name: West To No Salvation
We went west to no salvation
We were thinking that we were free
We’re just now getting out of the garden
only to be buried by the sea

Between the notion and the nation
there’s this little thing called faith
Birds fall dead on holy places
sacred spaces long laid waste

We went south just to get some air
but it was a tree-lined way of pain,
Bienvenue au le monde, mon frere
Ma, you can’t have an Abel
once you’ve had a Cain

Between the victor and the victim
there is a constant tacit game:
He who sleeps will be he who bears
scars without a name

We went east just to say goodbye
to those who’d said the west would be the end
It seemed a clear drop at the horizon
but the sun must rise again, friends

Between the crowning and the coronation
tiger-lilies line the way
to the battered door of the station,
where they bear your sons away

We went north to twigs and pebbles
and a dusty country road
(It was skulls and bones and ashes
trapped beneath the snow)

Between the shouts of the louts and lushes
there’s the thrum of locust wings
Beneath the singing of the thrushes
the spider loves the fly on in
Track Name: You, Regardless
And I apologize, Great Mother,
For I am the one who is receiving the slug
Bullet after bullet and thudding
But too poor to pay the gunman
He says, ‘This one is out of charity, son’

Next morning and a greater sense of nakedness
In the ears and under
But too poor to keep the blood running
And last night was a flood
What else be found when it subsides,
But dams that quiver, swollen and numb?
That’s versatile stuff, though, the gums!

Too poor to keep my guard up,
And last night, you threw a heavyweight’s punch
A kiss’ll get my heart sloppy-drunk
On its own dumb blood,
So be careful with those eyes, or I will stumble

Does this qualify, you front-facing, old, sagacious bum
As being reinvented, drug out of that mud?
The middle will never get what’s in this gut,
Because I ain’t so poor, that I’d fall in no clutches

But if you’re the poorhouse, baby,
Open up your doors and make those clutches tight
Track Name: Valentine Party
Now I will sing you the pain of a man
misunderstood. That is, both the pain and the main:
my song, this missive launched by a longbow of pasteboard and gilt
Though in its readers hands the stock will yellow and wilt,
its message leaves her little to intuit:
The heart is the hardest soft target to hit

My lover has a billion houses
and a wardrobe of ten billion blouses
She says, ‘You can never not have something to wear.’
But all it takes is one little tear
in her heavy coat for me to break through it
The heart is the hardest soft target to hit

The rules laid down by a victim are cruel,
but I humored her, in hopes that when she finished school
she’d be wise to the world, her ignorance finally fed
The game kept me warm in another’s bed,
but it wasn’t long before I outgrew it,
because the heart is the hardest soft target to hit

Bacon grease and Camel smoke:
the two scents I’ve come to love the most,
walking down this well-worn corridor
I reach out to touch the door,
but my hand seems to go right through it
The heart is the hardest soft target to hit

At a homecoming rife with pomp and flags
I was led into danger by her ruby rags,
bagged, gagged, and stolen away from my world
But her net wasn’t too hard to unfurl
I’d say that even a child could quickly undo it
The heart is the hardest soft target to hit.

For the purpose of making my actions more clear:
it was not money or distance or faith, it was fear
Fear was the reason I orphaned her, turned tail, and ran
But my face always did look so hollow and damned,
no matter how many times she drew it
The heart is the hardest soft target to hit