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15 Lies (Volume 3)

by He's Dead Jim

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1.
Everyone of them is sitting on their arse Or I have to knock their knuckles to get em off the bars and only half of them think to say their 'thank you, sirs' When a debt is owed to society then you are locked up for life I'm given the key I'm cursed to care for crooks, and criminals, and poofters Oh, I wish I had the cajones to pull some trick so I could end up cozy in a house of brick getting free bread and water three times a day but these lucky fucks aren't thankful enough if I'd been their judge I'd have judged more tough but I got this job, I guess I have a little say My job is justice, just served in my own special way
2.
Another shot of formaldehyde Mix it with a redbull and keep me up all night pass the scissors to get my stiches untied get my limbs loose so I can dance all night and break all the bones in your neck pull a cranial 180 like you crawled outta heck we're dancing to prove that demons exist Do the Exorcist's Twist Half the party dances in the pentagram on the dance floor half the party circles above they were summoned here by something more
3.
The devil steps out of the boudoir says the house is just as condemned as we are he smiles and shows his blue tongue and teeth he thinks he says something clever every time he breathes. I point and the skeleton pulls back the filthy old box spring and the scarecrow opens the cellar door with an overdramatic fling I flick the zippo I stole from my cousin, when I snuck and followed her to meet her coven I pull tight my robes, I descend the stairs, I breathe in this cool dry air Oh, Holy Day When we gather around the altar together, this town's dark sons and daughters to collude, to conjure, and auger, bringing sweet things to the slaughter in this house, gloomy and moonlight, from jack-o-lanterns and jacket pockets giving up all we have to offer emptying our plastic coffers Oh, Holy Day The vampire’s family is rich enough, they can buy him a cellphone But he won’t light the way until the monster asks him if his mommy can buy him a backbone There’s tons of puns at the skeleton, before thunder shushes these young new converts the storm wind slams the doors shut, The backdoor followed by the front Here in this basement, my secret sanctuary Where my troubled heart is safely buried The other ghouls enter ground hallowed Though they do not know into what they’ve followed Perhaps their souls I should not rush against the overpowering storming hush
4.
The horse and the Rider just a dot in the distance shimmering image of persistence my canteen has now gone dry left me nothing to drink now the sun beats down from on high But oh, my love oh, my love I would if I could But that doesn't mean that I should I wish that I could move a little faster Wish the son and that lawman weren't such zealous bastards neck and feet are blistered something fierce despite the pain I keep moving as the law man nears His shadow curves and points out wide on either side of his face He is always unphased no matter how I set the pace My very soul has now gone dry he just carries on I bet her never blinks an eye
5.
Give myself the morning inspection in that store window reflection I found some scissors to trim the beard I suppose it's been at least a year between you and I, I think I look distinguished in my suit and tie, I'm dressed for business six, seven, eight, nine - time I moved on down the line We were always at home we were never alone we were doing the Railrider's Rag Used to be there were railways criss-crossing this great country used to be we were never lonely, though maybe just a little bit hungry I knew Joe Junkpan I knew Gooseberry Johnson I knew Ammonia Cocktail Jones and Johnny Decomposin' I've known Admirals, Counts, and Dukes Through twists of fate and countless flukes and sure, it's been a while but I'd greet them with a smile. We were always at home we were never alone we were doing the Railrider's Rag Used to be there was moonshine and jawharps round the burning barrels Used to be there were busted boots and second hand apparel Used to be we were always at home sitting on stumps and logs Used to be we were never alone together skirting the laws but now there's not even railyard dogs We were always at home we were never alone we were doing the Railrider's Rag
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released May 5, 2017

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He's Dead Jim Lexington, Kentucky

We have sworn our musical talents to exonerating our beloved uncle James. It is too late to save his life, but we still might clear his name. Thank you for supporting this noble cause - It would be already lost without you.

-HDJ
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