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Purple Barceloner

by Tom Hymn

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1.
Jesus' head is a radio and I worship at your twin temples. I think we got our wires crossed. When did I get so cruel? How to expand? I need to expand. The current's raging under my land. Your hand is screaming to my hand: "you gotta open up! you gotta open up!" I know that she feels it all. The moon tide pulls and I get caught. You're gonna miss me when I leave.... I want you. Get away from me. Your happy does not make me happy. I live a life of luxury in my bedroom all alone. You smote me with your pollen charms. Your sun kissed solstice summer arms. I yelled at you in the car: "God I know it all! God I know it all!" I know that she feels it all. The moon tide pulls and I get caught. You're gonna miss me when I leave. The blood beach it tastes so sweet.
2.
Los Dosy 02:11
Just because my cranium opens up to the void doesn't make me a witch. Just because I'm 5d does not make me threatening. Just because I deal with my shit doesn't mean you are ruled by yours. Just because I get high sometimes does not mean you're stuck on the ground. Just because there will be others does not make you no one. You're exhausting. You're a child. You're seeing it all wrong. All of you is welcome here.
3.
First crack and I'm down the hill in a barrel full of glass. A roller coaster of murder and make believe. I get out I look back and I laugh. I slept the whole night with the light on. "She must be some sort of witch." They say it's just like shooting kids in a hogshead. So long and thanks for all the fish. I listen I swear I do but no one's hearing me now. They're all staring at a series of photographs in a six year old's mind. If I knew Neruda they'd name this square after me. I'm rubbing their eighty-nine eyes in amazement while the gypsies are selling autographed pictures of Jesus. Mr. Blair is writing the headline about some crazy fascist who thinks she's the best matador in town. Just like a casteller I climbed right up to the top. Now I'm five stories high looking down at our tangled bodies in bed. That's one hell of a lover's knot. The penny arcade is empty now cause everyone knows a war is starting in the land. You're in some foreign aisle looking for your own record because that's always been a dream of yours. And even if it were just Side B Track 11 well that'd be more than enough. That wax has been spinning round your head when they bust down the door. You'd think it'd be too much to turn a woman out of bed but no, not anymore. You're wearing nothing but the mala round your neck when the soldier he bends down. And he whispers in your ear "I'm so tired." But no one's hearing me now! Please don't make me speak. I ain't got nothing to say. Thirteen turns and I'm still not dead and the band is playing our song. Lady in C for the lady of the sea and I'm rubbing that second salt in my cheeks. Gaudi's at home in Sarria watching the whole thing on his TV with his feet propped up in the clouds. As the horns begin to swell with a smile on my lips the blade comes crashing down. That blade comes tumbling down. The mala falls and my neck opens up and the doves they fly out.
4.
Birdog 03:42
Smells like a hotel hallway. Barefoot. No one faster than me. You're upstairs in another country. You can smile with your teeth. Smile with your teeth. He's downstairs checking the furnace. Yellow nails. Graying hair. How long can you keep it down there? If I could then I would. And I can but I won't. Cucucurucucurucu. Aye paloma. Aye aye aye. Diay cantaba. When you call it rises up like a river flood in too small a cup of deep black joe and your memory. Clandestine I'm intertwined with you on the Leking ground it's true you've been bird-dogging me again. I want to take your smooth and pretty face, tie it up, wrap it with lace. Take it to where the trinkets of jet are sold. Cause we're travelers, you and I, to Gold Mountain in the cobalt skies of your eyes that say let me love you. Let me love you.
5.
Kate Moss 01:26
I will come around.
6.
H. Barcelona 01:07
Do you want to ride your bicycle up the hill with me?
7.
"We can do hard things." You said to me. The incensory. Swing. Swing baby swing from the ceiling. Your sweet golden sheen. My inside's nothing corrupting. It's quartz crystalline. The Holy Instant in-between your thighs. The World's Navel will you ever be mine? I can't touch you. Love would be my biggest boon. My Dulcinea, a thousand swoons. The Turin Shroud is where we draw the line. Jackdaw, pentagram upon it's bill. The Copper Canyons woven of herringbone twill. Will it always be this way? Dressed in dandy and then back to rags? I ask that he be please beatified. I blame it on the elephants. We're howling rats at the televator moon. The light is cracking it's finally coming through. Just don't make me speak. The sacristan of this heart. I can succor my own heart thank you very much! I'm gonna let the clock go down on me. I blame it on the elephants. Muxia. Fisterra.
8.
Coffee rust and you in my jet stream. My finger throws the butt. Makes it way to the sea. Trace of blood. The drupey pit inside. What's this thing called love? Cross my heart and hope to learn before I die. This too shall clash. This too don't look like it's going to pass so where will I go when I don't know? I'm outside your temple. I'm so profane. Been banging on your walls. In-between my temples this ole rattling brain. Sometimes I wish you were married to me. Old nursery rhymes: compersion and jealousy. I look for the patterns. Don't take my own advice. A drunken prophet caught in the eddy of his own mind. This too shall clash. This too don't look like it's going to pass so where will I go when I explode? Hey better luck next life. I'm outside your temple. I'm so profane. Been banging on your walls. In-between my temples I've been going insane. How'd these walls get so tall? I'm outside your temple baby I'm so profane. Been dropping all my calls. Been spinning in that gyre for some thousand odd days and I don't get no reception out here. The same hands that made the sign of the cross took our clothes off and we got off. Invisible lines we swore we didn't draw well they got crossed and I'm feeling pretty cross with you. A fair-weather and flakey fleshed friend I've always been. Lord when will it end? In the Great Pacific Garbage Patch I'm floating on my back. I ain't ever coming back.
9.
Dear Barcelona, please ride with me again. With the salt in your cheeks. And your arms all sun kissed from the summer.
10.
It's the spirits you threw at my house. Begging me to come out. A trail of Spanish plums. Her Majesty's shill and shake. Those Hong Kong hips that twist. Those vermillion lips I miss. Those lips I used to kiss. From the crumble in your tracks I can see you're not turning back. All the little yellow arrows that you leave wherever you go. And though they lead to a wall, is it the wall you're looking for? You're the Dark Saint of the Path. You know dark ain't always so bad. The both/and. Your supply and my demand. My demand and you're surprised. Are you a nowhere pilgrim? It's not a race to the end...... You and me and the tangerine dream like a carrot on a stick. We awoke to find everybody gone so we just stayed in bed. I couldn't find my way out of town, so many arrows but no exits. Like a lost plane on a flat earth, how did we end up like this? An ouroboros forming in-between the sheets we were both chasing tail. Octopal lovers in the middle of the night my tentacles running through your hair. I wanna run but you want me to stay. How much can we bear? A true test of this pilgrim's heart. Where to go there is nowhere there is nowhere. It's not a race until the end of your world.
11.
Everybody goes away in the end. Or have we been here before we were born? And maybe it's like some past life lover's kiss, but I'm just not sure anymore. But for now I wanna be the one you come home from work to. I wanna be the one with whom you're doing all those puzzles. i wanna be the one you laugh with when we talk in silly accents while we're in bed. I wanna be the one that gives you plants just because.

about

Recorded/Mixed December 1-10, 2017
At DROOOM Studio by Austin Owen & Wally Boudway
Rancho Linda Vista, Oracle, AZ
Mastered by Greg Muller
Artwork by Cam Houseman

credits

released July 15, 2018

Tom Hymn: Guitars, Drums, Vox, Keys, Percussion
Austin Owen: Guitars, Vox, Keys, Bass
Wally Boudway: Guitars, Vox, Keys, Drums, Percussion
Karima Walker: Vox on Los Dosy
Andy: Back up vox on Los Dosy

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Tom Hymn Grand Rapids, Michigan

Slinky folk trance garage punk from la Época de Oro.

Jugo + Rada Records

Order 'Songs From The Annex' cassette on J+R's site (link below)

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