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Postcards From Deadeye

by Muleskinner Jones

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1.
Gunslinger 03:12
Eight miles east of Deadeye Rotting in an unmarked grave Lie the bodies of Silas Harlow Johnson And the woman that he tried to save. And no-one lifts a finger No-one makes a sound People keep their mouths shut in Deadeye town. Minding their own business Keep your head down We don't need another gunslinger around We don't need another gunslinger around Well the moon cut the night Like the grim reaper's scythe As he rolled his old bones back to his hometown. Searching high and low for his childhood sweeetheart And a yearning to get married and settle down. But when he mentioned her name Folk spat upon the ground Saying "That's the one whos sells her love She'll drag a good man down." Still he set right off to find her Riding hard across the sand But she'd never recognise him As the man who'd offered her his hand. Cuz he looked like some kind of gunslinger Eyes all roling, wild and red And as he reached for his breast pocket She shot her childhood sweetheart dead. And no-one lifts a finger No-one makes a sound People keep their mouths shut in Deadeye town. Minding their own business Keep your head down We don't need another gunslinger around We don't need another gunslinger around And as she stared into his dying eyes She realised what she'd done For he was reaching for a bible Not reaching for a gun And when she saw that the man she'd murdered Was the man she should have wed She took a hatpin from her dresser And drove it through her aching breast And no-one lifts a finger No-one makes a sound People keep their mouths shut in Deadeye town. Minding their own business Keep your head down We don't need another two-bit hooker around We don't need another two-bit hooker around And that's why eight miles east of Deadeye Rotting in an unmarked grave Lie the bodies of Silas Harlow Johnson And the woman that he tried to save
2.
I'm a twisted, sick and bitter asshole. I'll get even any way I can. Screwed over by some dumb bitch from Walthamstow I caught her messing with another man. So I adjusted my stetson And loaded my best gun (The bone-handled, nickle-plated Smith and Wesson). Cuz I'm a twisted, sick and bitter man. Peace and love were hardly overflowing As I rode the bus cross town to my baby's flat. I drunk everything that she had going And when the booze ran out I shot her in the back. Then I dragged her outside and started shovelling dirt But the beat-bobby caught me with blood on my shirt And he booked this twisted, sick and bitter man. When the jury heard the nasty things that I did They thought themselves the butt of some sick joke. It wasn't long before they'd all decided To let my cracker ass swing from a rope. And the judge said he though there could have never existed A man so bitter, sick and twisted. And I'm that twisted, sick and bitter man. So come on you good people gather round As they dump my stinking body in the ground Feel the rain and hear the rolling thunder I'll be just as sick and twisted six feet under. Yeah so long, suckers, I'll see you in hell But by then I'll have a few more good stories to tell. Here lies a twisted, sick and bitter man. Yeah it's a long way down, but down we shall go. And the devil himself may try and keep up if he can With this twisted, sick and bitter man.
3.
Jimmy Brown quit town 'til the buzz died down Spent twenty-five days on the run. All that he got for his time and his trouble Was a bible and a smoking gun. Hooked up with Beth in a Little Chef Said he'd like to try again. All that she got for her time and her trouble Was a seven mile walk in the rain. And he said "Honey, I left the money In the closet under the stairs." But home-brewed win and turpentine Were all that she'd find in there. Yeah that day she learned a lot: Life's not fair. Jonah dumped the Rover somewhere outside Dover Headed over to his old-man's place. All that he got for his time and his trouble Was the smile wiped from his face. Spent six month's in his pa's garage Sleeping in the pigeonloft. All that he got for his time and trouble Were diptheria and whooping cough. And his old-man said "I'll be damned If I'll hide away in fear. Come on son, take your gun We're getting out of here." Yeah that day they learned a lot: Life's kind of weird. Hope quit the dope for God and the Pope Her friends didn't treat her very nice All that she got for her time and her trouble Was eternity in paradise. Finally hitched a ride from a fat old trucker I guess he thought his luck was in But all that he got for his time and his trouble Was a warning on the wages of sin. And he said "babe, there's no way That you're getting in this truck If you're gonna whine on all night Like some religious nut. Yeah that day she learned a lot: Life really sucks. And on days like these I need speed To get me out of bed. I crave caffeine and nicotine To calm my aching head. Yeah you can give life all you got You still end up dead.
4.
In Texas I sweated like a pig. Rolled into a small town It was three horses big. And under a cold-blooded sky I feasted on crickets And drank cactus wine. In Texas I sweated like a sow. Rolled into a ditch And couldn't get out And over the razorback plains I rode a coyote Through sheet-metal rain. And I'll lay my head on the rocks and stones With the glow-worms and the chicken bones. In Kansas they cut me down to size With blood on my windshield And dust in my eyes They told me it was for my own good Left me naked and bleeding in Black River Wood. In Kansas they cut me to the quick They stoned me with stones And struck me with sticks. I wandered through deserts of snow And sheltered in caves Where the bone-thistles grow. And I'll lay my head on the rocks and stones With the glow-worms and the chicken bones. In Georgia I shot down the stars And sold them downtown From the boot of my car. I kidnapped the moon and the sun Kept the whole word in darkness While I had some fun. And I'll lay my head on the rocks and stones With the glow-worms and the chicken bones. And I'll be alright, yes I'll be alright In this beat-up, no-good, bad-blood, driftwood Dyed-in-the-wool Deadeye town tonight.
5.
I wish to the Lord that I'd never been born Or died when I was young Then I never would have seen your sparkling blue eyes Or heard your lying tongue. All the good times are past and gone All the good times are o'er. All the good times are past and gone Little darling don't you weep no more. I wish to the Lord that I'd never been born Or died in my dear mother's arms Then I never would have kissed your ruby-red lips Or buried you under the barn. All the good times are past and gone All the good times are o'er. All the good times are past and gone Little darling don't you weep no more. I wish to the Lord that I'd never been born Or died in the third or fourth grade Then I never would have gave you the whole of my heart Or finished you off with that spade. All the good times are past and gone All the good times are o'er. All the good times are past and gone Little darling don't you weep no more.

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released September 28, 2008

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Red Meat Records Bradford On Avon, UK

The musical output of Mr. James R. Closs. Skunkworks recording artist since 1999. Muleskinner Jones | The Faceless Corporation

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