2.27.2006

I'M BUILDING A HOUSEBOAT IN HEAVEN



oh holy night. something quite unsettling is brewing. damnation has its virtues. its the truth. there are no lies. fingers are being pointed (index. middle. etc.). names are being dropped. the time has come. men in plaid shirts and ladies draped in beads and sporting decorative headbands make the back street journey. a pilgrimage of sorts. like a herd of casually image conscious zombies they march with premonitions of a foot stompin goodtime. its tuesday. what the fuck are you doing? your maker wears a stetson hat. there are blood stains on his boots. the swollen veins of his tattooed forearms are blessed with straight whiskey. the man has eight balls for eyes. this fucker shits roses (for real!). his church is modest in presentation. the alter is well lit. the bar is well stocked. the disciples sit. mingle. act natural. hard smiles and suggestive glances are traded over firm handshakes and one armed embraces. anticipation is a bitch. all eyes are on the choir. lumberjacks. cowboys. grifters. pirates. hobos. sailors. gamblers. outlaws. ramblers. the cast has a tight scope. these are bad people. their intentions are straight. their hearts are cold. their hands set the course. their throats invite the trouble. their tongues welcome the fiasco. their lips greet the chaos. a shit storm has never sounded so good.

ladies and gentlemen.
get comfortable.
this is it.

TUESDAY. FEB. 28th.
PETES CANDY STORE.
709 LORIMER ST. WILLIAMSBURG.
G or L train to metropolitan/lorimer.
FREE!

O'DEATH. 11pm.

POOR BOY JOHNSON & THE GODDAMN RATTLESNAKE. 10pm.

LONESOME DOVES. 9pm.

miss leah perky tits will be celebrating her twenty fourth birthday.
buy her hugs and give her drinks.
papa rattlesnake will be here in spirit as he turns sixty one.
give me drinks and buy me sluts.

i am so excited to see you tonight.
comfortably yours.

-g.d. rattlesnake

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MP3:

sucka has been nagging me to post some of this. this being a certain mr. townes van zandt. he has come and gone and you did not even notice. one of (and quite possibly) the greatest song writers of the last forever. my first exposure to him was in the coutry music documentary 'heartworn highways'. after giving us a very drunk and well armed tour of his estate (farm.) he proceeds to make an 85 year old blacksmith cry with a heartbreaking rendition of his classic 'waiting around to die.' his lyrics are comfortable. understandable. relative. damn near perfect. i want to write a townes van zandt song.

• Townes Van Zandt - To Live Is To Fly.

• Townes Van Zandt - Be Here To Love Me.

support those that appreciate death, buy music

No comments:

Post a Comment