Bare Bare Bones (EP)

by Jess Clinton

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1.
Gladly go down To the bank low Trudgey beat how Will it be far Tenors and meat Wrappers and tin Be it a joke Keep it a sin Going down down, very far See him spread out like the stars Gillian stopped Pusher ring raw Lifted her bow Packeted tar From our old man Driving each car Caravan Sam Counting each star Going down down, very slow Ask him if he even knows Lily-white rag Smelling the soap Crackle and rinse Will there be hope? Tenors and meat Go to the bank low Caravan Sam Taking it slow Going down, down to the bone I'm sorry that you call this home Gladly go down To the bank low Trudgey beat how Will it be far Tenors and meat Wrappers and tin Be it a joke Just keep it a sin Going down down, to the bone I'm sorry that you call this home
2.
I memorized your number from the paper that your signed Painted with the colors of my mind The six in every section was the color of December Pink as the dawn, pink of an ember And the fours and eights between are Halloween In dusty orange and green I recognized your address, it was painted on the door This was a place I'd never been before It's blue in January long past is the Fall Seven seven - yellow on the wall And all they seem to say is it's a pity You have to recollect your lovers in this way Through a converging of the senses That proves to be so senseless If everything I sense is true Reaching 'cross the table, he lay his hand to mine Could you somehow make these colors mine? Yes, reaching 'cross the table, he lay his hand to mine Could you somehow make these colors mine? And his eyes they gleamed and shined with summer wine And they told me I would never leave his mind Through a converging of the senses That proves to be so senseless If everything I sense is true And as the months fly by between the sea and sky I think upon how colors can so boldly lie To a converging of the senses That prove to be so senseless If everything I sense is you
3.
Stay you well behind me, do not break into a run I know you are just waiting for that step when I'm undone And when you found me bent upon the rooting of a tree I let it go unsaid that I had feigned the weakened knee Oh god oh god it's true, I am not hard to shame But I can sleep it off oh I can bear the pain He said you look just like a lighthouse standing on the shore And the pace your head is spinning makes me want you even more Pulling into anchor oh it seemed he was in reach But in the wake of moonshine sunrise met an empty beach Oh god oh god it's true, I am no guiding flame I am not of the stars, no I am not the same A new man came and asked me for a mermaid for to moor Oh yes I said I like the sound of travel to be sure But in the end the boatman couldn't move me much at all For I had become a siren standing twenty stories tall Oh god oh god it's so, I really can't explain I am not of this shore, no I am not the same.
4.
1929 04:07
All the ice cream trucks came out today And the springtime in the Village let them stay So they made a barricade around the square For to feast upon the young 'uns who were there So I stepped into a bar and thought it hip to leave some sugar on my lips Mmhmm And with a lady and a six string in his hand Stood my favorite faded blue-jean one-man band And he was singing: I am young and old as open wine Love me like it's 1929 All the smoke and joking in the air, Well it mingles with the springtime of my hair Oh you know that I can pick and sing just fine All the better just as long as he ain't mine For though he sings just fine he won't recall Anything he sang tonight at all And though he looks my way he cannot see me Oh them handsome eyes they mean too much to me And so I'm singing: I am young and old as open wine Love me like it's 1929 And every drifted dreamer with a dime Will swear he loves me like it's 1929
5.
Can I 04:16
6.
The First Time Ever (free) 03:51

credits

released June 6, 2009

Engineer - Rick Cuhna
All songs registered with BMI and under copyright except "First Time Ever"

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Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.

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Jess Clinton New York

A NYC-based songwriter of 10+ years, Clinton bears her various facets of mind and personality through her own sensuous, often swampy-but-tender brand of addictive folk rock.

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