1. |
Trainwrekk't
03:19
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Trainwrekk't
Written by Dylan M. Blackthorn
Listen Up! While I tell you about yourself
Well, some things we don’t know…
Buckle Up! For the ride I’m about to take you on
May torment your everlasting soul
Demon’s Will! Manifest underneath the dark
canopy of night
You will be amazed by the
Things you will see by the darkness of their light
And you’re either winding up that rail -
Headed for the top of the heap
Or your drifting down that track –
Headin’ down down down
down down down down
down down down
down down
DOWN!
Now you see – the light is becoming
Oh, so clear, bright to your eyes
Now you hear – the machinations
Of a world you thought was Oh, so nice!
Now you feel the rumbling of
5,000 pounds of steel, fire, brimstone,
Now you’re caught in the headlamp
Of a HELL-bound train that cannot be stopped-
LUCIFER!
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2. |
Gobbelins
05:04
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Gone Where the Gobbelins Go
Written by Sick the Fiddle Killer
There’s bats at the bottom of a bottomed-out bridge
Hear the echoes of their insect feast
And the bugs keep a buzzin’, though they’re hunted by the dozen
‘cause to bugs everybody’s a beast
And the flood is floodin’ higher, makin’ mud beneath the fire
Where the food is either rancid or stale
I remember where I’m from but forgettin’ who I was
before I wound up tellin’ this tale
I’ve Gone Where the Gobbelins Go
Gone Where the Gobbelins Go
Gone Where the Gobbelins Go
Below, below, below…
We’ve Gone Where the Gobbelins Go
Gone Where the Gobbelins Go
Gone Where the Gobbelins Go
Below, below.
There’s a troll collecting tolls by the god-DAMNED damn
Damning passer-bys who buy by the pound
His skinny skin is like leather weathered by the wet weather whether
Sleeping on the roof or the ground
And there’s children in rags, splittin’ diseases and drags
Blendin’ in with the filth they create
We’re all feeble in hope, some pass the needle and rope
Our days are numbered while we slumber on the slate
We’ve Gone Where the Gobbelins Go….
It feels unnatural to pay for sleep,
To pay for anything I don’t intend to keep…
there's blood on the button of my button down shirt
and the sun is so brite i can't think
i remember the sauce behind the memory loss
somebody dropped a drop in my drink
you know the locomotive's motives are to haul and deliver
while i shiver underneath it's tracks
i'm with the spiders and snakes of all sizes and shapes
and i can't seem to find my way back
We’ve Gone Where the Gobbelins Go….
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3. |
Sueños con Chaneques
05:25
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Sueños Con Chaneques
By Bruce Salmon
You might think that we gave up the fight a long time ago -
in the shade of a kapok tree we decided to lay low;
dreaming with a tranquil heart and a peaceful mind-
but with the ogres that are pulling the strings, we'd have to be blind
sifting thru the sand;
for the promised land
Sueños con Chaneques! Sueños con Chaneques!
did you think you could just wash your poison off in the springs?
i advise you to listen and heed every word that we sing
if you bathe in the sacred water, we will steal your clothes
then you must come to the underworld to reclaim your soul -
sifting thru the sand; for the promised land
Sueños con Chaneques! Sueños con Chaneques!
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4. |
the Ballad of Olga Hess
03:45
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The Ballad of Olga Hess
Lyrics & Music by D.M. Blackthorn,
additional lyrics by The Great Gozloeone, & Rev. Flint Fancy
We found her dancing on the midway,
The day the Ferris Wheel rolled away
No one ever found her head –
We think it might have landed in the bay
(chorus):
Kept alive by a miracle of science
& a weird living and breathing appliance
Though she was born and lived like you or I,
For some strange reason she now cannot die –
This headless woman
We found a letter in her pocket
From some guy, the writing was a mess
The one thing we could make out –
It was addressed to “my dear Olga Hess”
The scientists quarreled and bickered on that day
Challenging her existence in every way
How could such a woman live on without a head?
Surely, oh surely, oh surely she must be dead –
This headless woman
Of her friends and family none stepped forth
I dare say they could not see what she’s worth
And so she joined our evil caravan
To dance among the damned
(chorus):
Kept alive by a miracle of science
& a weird living and breathing appliance
Though she was born and lived like you or I,
For some strange reason she now cannot die –
This headless woman
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5. |
Jack
04:39
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Jack or The Boy with the Smile that Leers as it Mocks
Written by Dylan M. Blackthorn
With some lyrical help from Sick
The circus folk are here, they’re down in the square
They’ve got a strange fellow that you can see there
For 10 cents, you too can see the boy with the smile
That leers as it mocks…
Jack
There is a creature waiting patiently below
Laying in darkness for the start of the show
Patiently waiting, in a costume so fair
He wears no mask but a face painted there
Jack... they call him Jack
And coiled to spring like a cat through the night
This creature’s unknowable visage alights
In the mind’s eye – will you startle in fright?
Or do you think some infernal delight… awaits?
Jack
A-quiver and nervous, your hand reaches out
Grasping the crank, and tuning it about
You know the cue as the melody plays
And what you see there will truly amaze
When you see Jack!
And NOW, Jack springs out the box
With the smile that leers as it mocks
Honestly, he doesn’t think much of you
Though he’s little he thinks little of you
But he knows just what to do-
To give you a thrill-
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6. |
the Trash Dragon's Sway
05:12
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The Trash Dragon’s Sway
By Dylan M. Blackhthorn
When the Plough is rusted… and the cloak has mottled
As the clock slows it’s hand… and the chair will no longer stand…
There’s the Trash Dragon’s Sway
What is built shall fall some day… what is hewn shall rot
What is sewn shall be ripped away… when what is working now s not…
There’s the Trash Dragon’s Sway
She wraps herself in freshly broken things… this is her cloak of many colors
Torn and tattered canvasses span her wings… Flawed obsidian daggers glitter –
in her used chewing gums
What is broken is her domain… things that are lost and will never be found
The rubbish heap and the thrown away… and souls that wander aimlessly through the burial ground…
that’s the Trash Dragon’s Sway
Long forgotten booty of dead man’s chests… and their spirits that search and never rest
Wooden horses that once rocked away… and one armed dolls that feed at her breast –
There the Trash Dragon sways
She wraps herself in freshly broken things… this is her cloak of many colors
Torn and tattered canvasses span her wings… Flawed obsidian daggers, how they glitter –
And when… she rises…
A miasma of mold and must, Sea dew and rust, the ragged rot of 1,000 aeons rains down
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7. |
Black Scorpion Theme
03:57
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Poetry by the Black Scorpion.
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8. |
Phantasmagoric Cabaret
05:58
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the Phantasmagoric Cabaret
By Sylvester T. Crow of the World Below
Headless mannequin dancing on the tightrope
girl with the glass eye staring at the boy
with the porcelain mask and the patch work dress
under the ruins of a faded circus tent
where the thorn trees grow and the black water flows
and only the ravens know its name
Nothing’s ever as it seems
when you’re living in the land of dreams
and you turn to find yourself but he’s not there
People with their empty faces
staring at a bus map they’ve been waiting
in an abandoned city where the moon never sets
and it only shines green and they’ve waited so long
that cobwebs have grown over their fancy clothes
and Bella Donna is the only tonic
Nothing’s ever really clear
when you’re looking through the opposite end of a mirror
and your reflection gives you a knowing wink
but you can’t recall
Naked, painted harlequins dancing
around a bonfire where memories are thrown in
to feed the blaze that gives infernal heat
but whose glow can never illuminate
Nothing’s real and it’s all play when you’re
living in the goblin way and you aren’t really
yourself but you don’t care
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9. |
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10. |
Midget Caravan
03:41
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Midget Caravan
By Jimmy the Pickpocket
The caravan rolled into town this evening
Rolling through the trash and the mud
And there was one midget girl, with a head of black curls
And eyes that set fire to my blood
I watched as she danced through the madness
This mad carnival of misfits and geeks
And I loved that midget girl right through her black curls
As I bellowed in the orchestra of freaks
I thought I saw her walking down by the seashore
She was walking with a three legged man
And as the moon tumbled down, and darkness fell around
I saw them get swallowed by the sand
And she danced in the flames and she sang her song of mystery and peace
And she sang with the cry of a shattered Yard Dog night
And she laughed as she came in the rain
And rollin’ through the town on Sunday evenin’
A beggar asked me if I’d buy a round
And as the moon tumbled down, and darkness took the town
I heard that subtle, melancholy sound
And she danced, through the flames
And she sang her song of mystery and peace
And I bellowed in the orchestra of freaks
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11. |
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12. |
?
20:16
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?
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THAT Damned Band Austin, Texas
THAT Damned Band is an accordion-driven group playing new music influenced by Old-time, Old World, & vaudevillian era music and styles. They are the Boogeyman in the closet, the monster in the well, the necromancer summoning spirits in the graveyard, the troll under the bridge – invoking Datura Whiskey with blood, greenskin and tattered black lace. ... more
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