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Full Buck Moon

by Gar Clemens

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1.
In the cardhouse ghetto On the concrete swamp The Thief he shouts, "don't move" Shots rang out she kissed my tattoo Footprints in blood On hardwood floor Read like omens in the night Toward the wolfhouse door The dead end trick Got the cash from the drawer Honey, I could hit the streets in rage For blood I could lash out Honey, I could cry my eyes out For cryin' out loud In the middle of the night When the news came Of a crimson rain Over the radio waves Sick and confused I just turned away And the inbred, born rich, bastard grins And his little hands make little fists And give AR-15s to blue eyes kids Honey, I could hit the streets in rage For blood I could lash out Honey, I could cry my eyes out For cryin' out loud The tv set is drilled into my head I mainline the news while I'm safe in bed Watch 'em try and collect a dead man's debt... Honey, I could hit the streets in rage For blood I could lash out Honey, I could cry my eyes out For cryin' out loud
2.
i wanna spend money like Winston Churchill i choke on this big house that i can't afford i wanna fear everything outside the town where i grew up where i rot over ground and i got a big job 'cos i'm a big man i keep my world as small as i can drug me to sleep on my daddy's land i'm terrified and I don't understand and I vote for war but too yellow to fight my heart's on the sleeve of my armchair tonight i'm a self righteous sinner and I've seen the light y'all must be wrong cuz I'm always right all of that oxy has pock marked my head my wife and I sleep in separate beds I know what I'm doin this all makes sense i don't pay mind to what anyone says my bathroom is the pharmacy where I go to hide from every small truth that makes up my life hell, I paid good cash to tattoo the lies deep in my skin until I wrinkle and diìiiiiikkkķkkkiiwieisbajisjene
3.
4.
5.
Blowing through the cattails and meadow grass From hotel halls through urban sprawl I'm pounding on the gas I can't see the truck stops for the gasoline when the axle is due to crack and the engine's giving out on me Over thoroughfares and rivers and interstates The earth engulfs the roots of smoke and it's choking more each day Coal is still and stacked in freights as far as I can see while the BNSF is runnin' steady right along me It's 90 and risin' at the Kansas City line I can't put the breaks on or pull off to the side The mirage on the road ahead is playing with my eyes When it's 90 and rising at the Kansas City line After months unheard I got word from a roaming friend He said he'd been run ragged and now he's burning through the rims Brother is traveling overseas for land he's yet to claim I swear I'll do the same on the blood of saints that runs through our good name It's 90 and risin' at the Kansas City line I can't put the breaks on or pull off to the side The mirage on the road ahead is playing with my eyes When it's 90 and rising at the Kansas City line.
6.
I say I want a woman to love That will love me back the same To hold close through the violent gales, hail, and whipping rain And at nightfall when I'm restless again And the medicine is the road As I paint every dreamed mile and temporary home I choke and tell myself You can't have both In dark denim and leather boots And through tourmaline eyes She raged against my surrender to the moon and turning tides And the night passed and morning came My eyes burned through the road As every mile pulled me in more Her words cut to my bones I nearly broke And told myself You can't have both I say I want a woman to love That will love me back the same To hold close through the tornadoes and wild and whipping rain And at nightfall when I'm anxious again She'll see I'm in the throes As I'm carving through each painted mile I've stacked up in tomes ... I am awoke And tell myself You can't have both
7.
I've come to drink from the deep cool wells of your eyes To freely cross the threshold of your door To see you turn your lamp low To let your hair down To let your gown fall from your shoulders to the floor I can see you peering out the keyhole in your door Below the porch where I sit on my brain And bellow, "love if only fleeting is still love, for any love at all is never love in vain." I ain't the man you're scared of I ain't the man you need I ain't the man who's been haunting your past Honey, I'm the man that you want now And what you want right now won't always last Whisper in my ear and I'll send fire down your spine Grip your bed I'll carve into your walls To finally excavate your misshapen fears To free yourself from them once and for all Should you be awoken by the hindges on the door Or by a creak coming from the stairs Remember darling, this is what you wanted And don't ever be ashamed of lying bare I ain't what you're scared of I ain't what you need I ain't the fear that settled in your cracks Honey, I'm just something you want now Now is the future as the present is the past... And what you want right now don't always last
8.
Starin' blue At the full buck moon A second floor motel room It's my best guess And I'm best to bet The night is nowhere near through Low clouds hang Over the great plains Starin' out with a fever comin' on Cold and long are the hours 'til dawn My past is nothing but gone (nowehere near gone) She's shackled and chained In my memory always And I've thrown away the one and only key I never rest and rest I won't get Until I can break her free Her ghost comes to life Aims through iron sights Puts three right into my head One for when we met One for when she left One for what could have been Starin' blue at the full buck moon A second floor motel room It's my best guess I'm best to bet That the night is nowhere near through
9.
the cat's on the counter the dog is on her hind while the tip of my tongue fights the back of my mind there's garbage in the mailbox and the sky is full of clouds the garden is gettin' anxious for the rain to come down there's cash in the cupboard and daddy is at the motel the blue glow of the TV shinin' off the windowsill $10 of comfort is $10 on the bill the drunkard in the corner tussles with his past his eyes full of soot with fire in his glass and his paycheck has gone to ashes and his hands always burn his numbers never hit and that boy won't ever learn and the 9th hour woman come out to talk trash to the lonely men walkin' with the shadows on their backs to buy $10 of comfort for $10 cold hard cash there's gold in the cradle but the evidence is vague i've grown weary of the virtues from one million loud mouth saints they say, "mama, they don't pray like us" while they don't pray at all and big brother takes confession in a fast food bathroom stall he ties the tourniquet and sees the light there's no penance if God don't mind just $10 of comfort and a habit for life go ahead and check the clock is he on time?
10.
There's a boy by a bridge with a beer in a sack He's sleepin' by the tracks He laughs to himself He laughs and laughs He was raised in dirt born straight white trash With a deadbeat dad His mama went mad When the screen door slammed He never looked back Enough for the bus stashed in his hat He's got a black denim jacket with a black flag patch His front tooth cracked and scars on his face like rivers on a map He's got a kitchen tattoo of a girl's name He knows whereever she's gone she got one the same In the summer she could be in the city by the lake In the wintertime in the city by the bay In the fall or spring she could be between The end of east bay and new orleans She's a 1-4-5 and every note between He awoke from a dream of snow and a memory of Idaho He rubbed his eyes, cleared his throat, grabbed his shit And he hit the road His thumb held out Bag on his back Wind blew his hat His boot heels flapped Sweaty hands dried on his pants Sun shinin' on his black flag patch Sun shinin' on his black flag patch

about

Recorded at Dynamic Soundworks with Brandon Hackler and Jordan Powers in Wilmington, NC and Greensboro, NC.

Produced and Engineered by Jordan Powers and Brandon Hackler
Mixed by Brandon Hackler
Mastered by Tom Waltz

Photography by Todd Turner in Greensboro, NC
Artwork by Larry Wayne Slaton

credits

released January 1, 2018

Hank Barbee- electric guitar, steel guitar
Gar Clemens- acoustic guitars, vox
Josh Coe- bass
Jack Foster- drums
Brandon Hackler- electric guitars
Greg Herndon- piano, keys
Jordan "he's a Paers" Powers- electric guitars, harmony vox

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about

Gar Clemens Greensboro, North Carolina

Gar Clemens' delightful Americana-influenced-folk debut full-length may be simple, sleepy and comforting, but it is also thematically captivating, and all too capable of stirring up the kind of nagging life sentiments usually reserved for when your head hits the pillow. (Jamie Downes // 07/01/14//United Kingdom) ... more

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