Axe And Receive

Photo: Thomas Shelley

All Songs Written By David Berkovits & Scott Homiak [FOREIGN CAPITOLS]

BLACK MUZAK

I'll get on too,
once you get on home tonight
All your friends said,
"He sings in a wedding band,
that can't be but good"
All your friends are so right
I killed the barber when he nicked me but good
Your hair looks less than tasteful grown out a little too much
I kissed the sitter when I thought, "But we should"
Her teeth looked understanding, inverted and taken as such
In the flood of loss and poor ease,
whatever seeps through jilted property


AS WE SLEPT THROUGH THE WAR

When you came to the casualties had emptied into our bed
There was a fire
When you came to the casualties had empathy for done and said
before there was a storm
There was a calm moment
Put the house to sleep and torch the sheets
but we slept through it all
We danced around circumstance
as we danced around you
We'll find elegance in negligence within the week
As we slept on our ageing wrists
they were ready to bloom
I'm thirsty for answers of which I have none
Suburban kings we conquered...
I've drank all the poisons
Another woman's lips speaking the names of all
a fool can put down
There was a fire
the acquainted ghosts we conjured
then there was a flood
We slept through the whole damn war before we finally woke up
Another woman's lips...
Another woman's lips speaking the names of all
the acquainted kings we conquered
There was a fire
Another woman's lips
then there was a storm
Another woman's lips
There was a calm moment as we slept through the war


GHOSTS OF TWO

Long nights
I betrayed my teachers
The ghosts of our longing have left us behind
I warned you across the ocean
Under the knife of our little life
I speak till my mouth hurts and your eyes are wild
I sing when my teeth ache and that's all the time
I warned you but you wouldn't listen
The ghosts of our love are not hanging around
We're more than sick patients across an ocean
Still stitching the past for an explanation
You were so right when you said
I had no right to confess
You were so right when you said
I fucked it up and left it a mess
You were so right
You were so right


CHARLES LINDBERGH (CAN’T SURF)

This is the way we sell off your days,
trade 'em away, offered back at discount
The second hand stops, we fumble the lock,
reimbursed or not, break in on the rebound
Stereo wires keep our hands enmired,
throats uninspired, note stains on her nightgown
The second hand stops, we fumble the lock,
reimbursed or not, break in on the rebound
I wanted to steal your baby
and flaunt it in town
I showed up to haunt your lady
and stalk her around
If I could've signed straight off, cut and call it signal loss,
you would cough up half the cost, dutch on self doubt
Stereo wires keep our hands enmired,
throats uninspired, note stains on her nightgown
The second hand stops, we fumble the lock,
reimbursed or not, break in on the rebound
I wanted to meet the gentry
and shake 'em all down
I showed up for every century
that dawned on our town
These scenes of trials and taunts
evict the can't run and won't
Highbeams blindside the defense
These schemes of trials and taunts
evict the can't run and won't
Each day's a vindictive cunt


SHOTGUN FUNERAL

Baby, when do I get to take my place
In the armies of her majesty,
among the lines across your face?
I miss the nights that held us tight
and the days that drew me in -
I spent my fortunes long before my eyes met your face.

Baby, where did you think that this was heading
when we spent the whole night talking
about funerals and weddings?
The stars have made it hard for us
to believe a word I'm saying:

I said my vows long before I ever had your blessing
I said my vows long before I ever heard your blessing


SUNDAY MUSIC

We should have got together on a Monday night
while everybody else was on a caffeine high
Passing out in the lap of the Upper West Side,
placing hand on ass in the slim slow slide
A grand in diluted options, no degrees
The while away the hours across the peeping street
I kept you in mind,
periphery monopolized,
smoking your way back inside
A subtle indulgence,
occuring happenstance,
with no real permanence
Sunday isn't holy so let's just walk away...
Won't get to falling out of a promless dress tonight
None too convincing,
I'm done with all this mincing intent
Won't get to falling out of your fucking shirt tonight


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