|
1. |
|
|
|
|
Take a man and crush him down
See the way his insides glut
Ripe and ruby for the picking
Men are mostly made of smut
And seizure of the ego
And losses to hit as a cope
Men are fried
Men are fragile
Men spurned sickly by their hope
And what are we if not the pillar
What are we if not the sand
What are we if not forgiveness
Held just out of reaching hands
What are we if not the buck head
What are we if not the gore
The steer the stag the bull the fowl
What are we if not the horror
What are we if not the horror
What are we if not the horror
By the trains, the tracks, the native veteran flags
I saw it the other day
Heard it called for me
I was too scared to look down
and still I crawled to the edge
Midday fever in my head
I could not make a sound
and still I crawled to the edge
Midday fever in my head
I could not make a sound
In the garden of use
We, the pungent manure
Look around, we’re being grown to digest in the ground
Not that it’s so bad to feed the fillings of the grass maybe that’s where we ought to be
Let the virus kill the virus make my body an antibody
In the garden of use
We, the pungent manure
Look around, we’re being grown
|
|
2. |
|
|
|
|
Car on fire on your blindside
Focus straight ahead
People tweaking on passing by
Nothing always lurking to the right
You try to make a metaphor, here
Feel like half a ghost
You swear you’re looking at a friend
You try to focus straight ahead
Tumors, wishes to destroy
They gather in the wet, weight of a fake eye
Nesting
Murmur
You still have time to run
The wrecking ball
Is just a block behind
Carve it out away
The memories
Between
The scarring
And the pain
You thought you could be good
You thought you could be good
But eye know
Eye know
Everything
|
|
3. |
|
|
|
|
A street, runs cold
Your life has left it
A knife has carved
A starving exit
The cells heave in
Translating anguish
Strange, my stabbing
Dreams aren’t painless
I can’t escape
The meat inside me
I merely shed
My silver lining
The earth is bent
And it is dying
Peace will take
A true un-lying
A ship could not
Distance the wound
Of having to
Let go of you
The fates we’ve got
Are made of nothing
I pray we’ve paid
For all this suff’ring
|
|
4. |
|
|
|
|
[So, a couple weeks ago, something really special happened which is that someone I know, and I've come to know, and come to love, had a child. And on the day that Julian was born, it was one of the most beautiful days in the city.
To want to bring life into this world means that you have a confidence in it, and to see someone I know and have come to love have such self assuredness and confidence, it instilled that within me and the people around me. This baby is a gift to us and also to the world, and I'm so ready to step up, even thought sometimes it's hard to step up for myself because I may not have confidence in the world all the time but, I wrote this for Julian.]
The lake is wide
Could be mistaken for an ocean
God is a blanket
Spread your arms side to side
The lake is wide
Could be mistaken for an ocean
Echos of sun
Settling tide
God is a blanket
Spread your arms side to side
To side
To side
|
|
5. |
|
|
|
|
6. |
|
|
|
|
Carve up your last reservation
Like a promise written on the wall
The mouths showed me conversation
Are the ones that don't like to talk
I know I know
Poke holes down in the floor
Build bedrooms for all of the bugs
I'll watch you using your hands
Doused in soul and government blood
We learn how to laugh
At the state of it all
Do we run from the sound
Or pick up the call
The last time I saw you
You were looking at me
Our fates are tied together
I'll breathe what you breathe
|
|
7. |
|
|
|
|
We talk when we don't know what to say
Take a walk a through the city’s veins
You keep me fed and you keep me safe
There’s something about people
That’s keep me coming back
Saw something I wasn’t supposed to
Had a dream I was back home
Underneath everything its just you
There’s something about people
There’s something about people
There’s something about people
Don’t drink the water it’s poison
Don’t breathe the air it’ll hurt your brain
Can’t shake the cloud that you’re always in
Stay close, it’s your medicine
There’s something in people
There’s something in people
There’s something in people
There’s something in people
|
|
8. |
|
|
|
|
My mom's boyfriend's brother saw a ship touching down in a field
He talked to his neighbors and talked to his friends but they all agreed it couldn't be real
Saturday night in the church chasing money while the choir sings a song for the saved
The relics and bones from the martyrs came to life and they all ran back home to their graves
And all the people you see on tv are just fishes and eels in disguise
So talk to someone you can touch and feel
They're the only ones that care if you die
Oh I get so mad
Listening to you
Oh I get so mad
I had a dream I was choking on air
Wrote my last song at 26
And when I turn 27 I'll probably die in some freak accident
Dead end jobs and killers in suit we watch each other stirring up the stew
If the road to hell is paved with good vision then we've all got some diggin' to do
And all the people we see on tv are just fishes and eels in disguise
So talk to someone you can touch and feel
They're the only ones that care if you die
|
On Sunday, July 27th, after a two week tour, Chaepter and I returned home to play a sprawling, tactile duo set at Epiphany Center For the Arts' Sanctuary Hall. We had begun our tour playing separate sets but as the journey progressed, our sets became intentionally enmeshed until it became a cohesive expression of everything we were experiencing. Tour, for me, was one of the greatest moments of ease and focus in my life, which was in great part due to my co-captain.
For the few years I have known him, I have looked up to Chaepter. For his talent, of course, but also for his broader determination to take that talent and turn it into artistry, in craft and action. His life teeters on the edge of stoicism, staunchly prioritizing the service of a song and DIY values, often before his own self. It was an honor to receive his respect, and listen to him sing every night.
Shravan Raghuram joined us onstage for a portion of the set. He entered to sing alongside me during Knife and continued, lending his well practiced spontaneous compositions and deft timing to the world that was built on the road. Shravan's ability to listen and share is so well honed that he walked onstage with little prior knowledge of what was about to occur. I can trust him with anything and am so proud of him always.
I have an immense amount of gratitude to these two artists, Chaepter and Shravan, for their place in my life. Their unique expressions of humanity are not insignificant contributions to my ability to get out of bed.
That gratitude is also extended deeply to Malcolm Riordan who, like with many of the shows they attend, chose to record this one. Such a simple gesture that impacts individual people so greatly. Malcolm is full of those little gestures and spreads them far and wide, their impact actively changing our city minute by minute, show by show.
I will be working with family members to send proceeds of this record directly to individuals back in Haiti. My ability to work within music, is because my family has fought long and hard for my comfort, security, and stability. I am who I am because of the intelligent, loving strength of aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents. As we all know, finding a way to get money safely and directly into the hands of those who need it takes time. I will continue to send updates about this money in my Bandcamp notifications, mailing list, and of course, on
fruitleather.net.
released September 5, 2025
Performers (in order):
D
Shravan
Chaepter
Recorded by Malcolm Riordan
