Red Heart the Ticker Lyrics
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Off With Our Heads

Don’t worry yourself into small attic rooms. Don’t worry your eyes, your shoulders, your limbs. I’ve got a ring for your finger that’s made out of wood. You can lay down down next to me quiet our heads we’ll float up above the trees you can lay down down next to me off with our heads we’ll float up above the trees.

I Lift that Boombox

Part A: Lifting
Part B: Please Draw Your Number One Boombox

Lifting

The sky was black as a well, was black as a well. There were no stars, no stars lighting up my windowsill.

Flock of birds flying through, of birds flying through. Through the open curtains,
their direction straight and true.

They took my possessions in their beaks, possessions in their beaks. They took my orange-clad armchair, took my clock, then they took me.

Quiet mountain range below. Sky above, mountains below, but I’m holding a cassette tape. In the morning I’m going to play it.

Yes I lift that boom-box, yes I make a god-awful ruckus, yes I lift that boom-box to my shoulder.

Yellowbird

November, nothing but a cold wind. Blowing leaves, round and round again. Lie on the front porch, in my winter coat, my hair untied, watch a yellow bird fly.

Songs of plenty, songs of old. Songs of courtship, songs of war. Got a pistol, in the pocket of my dress. Not sure what for. My un-fought war.

Yellow bird, yellow bird, flight of golden wing. Yellow bird, yellow bird, flight of golden wing. What makes your poor heart sing?

(I Used to Wear the) Head of a Lion

I used to wear the head of a lion, show up to parties like that. Pinned to my shirtsleeve was a lightening bolt, cupped in my hands, a thunder clap. But since the sun came up, and my baby’s gone, my baby’s gone for good, yeah my chest is full, full of burning wood, since my baby’s gone, my baby’s gone for good.

I used to eat up all of you for supper, still have room left for some wine. Strapped to my shoulder was a music box, tucked in my pocket, the moonshine. But since the sun came up, and my baby’s gone, my baby’s gone for good, yeah my chest is full, full of burning flames, since my baby’s gone, my baby’s gone for—don’t you know my chest is full of flames, yeah my chest is full of flames. Don’t you know my chest is full of flames?

Don’t you know my chest is full of flames, yeah my chest is full of flames. Don’t you know my chest is full of flames.

I used to wear the head of a lion, show up to parties like that.

In the Darkness

Strings turn electric, gonna turn my own soul on. Like you’ve been saying, I need something to bite on. I would rather come to your door and give my gifts freely then have you come to my door and expect your gifts to free me. I’m tired of living like there’s not a war on, gonna get fucked up, gonna turn the lights on. I would rather come to your door and give my gifts freely then have you come to my door and expect your gifts to free me. In the darkness, in the darkness, on your floor.

When We Were Young

I dreamed of a strong wind that I could see: it was shaking the way a dancer performs a tease. Took my hand and led me where it pleased. Oh my oh my.

Everything was in darkness, everything was light. The shadows were reassuring, daybreak came at night. Oh no, oh my, when we were young, we had a cabin, one window, one table, we had hours, we were vandals, there was nothing where we weren’t able below the stars and beneath the shining sun.

I remember you led me down a dark path, branches scratched my face. You said, don’t worry, what you can’t see you can feel and taste. Oh my, oh no,

when we were young we had a cabin, one window, one table, we had hours, we were vandals, there was nothing where we weren’t able below the stars and beneath the shining sun, oh we could be in love with anyone, beneath the shining sun.

Snakeskin

I left snakeskin on my floor in case you felt like coming by. Just inside the kitchen door, a heart-shaped note by its side. Telling you to walk on by, let me sleep alone inside. Telling you to let me be, let my heart get hard inside.

And go back to that place you knew, to all those women that you loved. Take your old Chevrolet and park it on the hill above. The place where you took my heart, touched my leg, and called it love. The place where the cold, dark water reflected all the stars above.

Cold rain going to fall, this kind of love won’t do at all.

I’ll go back to my old ways of sleeping late and getting stoned. Walk these streets alone at night, like a dog without a home. Feel my skin inside my dress, feel my skin against the bone. Feel my body thin and free, thin and free and alone.

Cold wind going to blow, this kind of love won’t do at all. Cold rain going to fall, this kind of love won’t do at all.
Naked in Pittsburgh, but Inside, Full of Grace

My friend was downtrodden, kicked in the shins: his woman was seeing another man tenderly. I saw him on a park bench, looking like he was pinned, his eyelids to his eyes, hands down on his knees, ‘til he went off on a tare, and not knowing where to begin, he drank a mess of whiskey and shot up heroin. He was walking on the star-bed, he was walking pleasantly ‘til he found himself in Pittsburgh on his bruised knees.

“Welcome to Steel City,” ’s what the bartender said. He sat next to a lady with pearls in her ear. Introduced herself as Willow, she stroked his sorry head: in the darkness all around him, a dim light appeared. With a whisper, she promised comfort next to her in her bed; sure enough her sheets were pink and very neatly fitted. Their clothes came off easily, but the lighting was severe; when she looked for a man she found my friend in tears.

Willow had no choice but to let him get some sleep; as he slipped into a dream, a look of calm feel on his face. He was saying to his old flame from across a mountain peak that he was naked in Pittsburgh, but inside, full of grace. Just then it started raining; he woke up from the leak, got up out of that pink bed though his legs were feeling weak. She asked him for some money, ‘cause she had given him a taste, so he dropped his last one hundred and left broke and disgraced.

(The day Willow held closest to her heart, she was wearing her paisley dress. She asked Neil Diamond for a dance; to her surprise, he answered “yes.” Now she stands by her window to undress.)

Back out on the highway, thinking Lord what is the point, he stepped into the lane, thinking, let this feel good. Car came ‘round the corner, driver lighting up a joint. She never even saw him ‘til he touched down on the hood. The force sent him upwards where angels can anoint, but his arms made poor wings, sure to disappoint. Topped at twenty feet, high as a body could, and came down on the pavement with the sound of splitting wood—

Head down on that pavement, blood spilled on the ground. Nineteen broken bones, but some peace of mind found. There was screaming in the background, but it sounded just like chimes: wind on the edge of shadows where the sun begins to shine. They brought him back here and sewed him up sound. Welcome home, Brandon.

Winter Air

Midway up the hill, I pulled you to my chest. Your face was like a bulb lit up. I took off my hat. We stood on stone walls. The sun went down, the dark came up.

Our lungs are full of winter air, are full of winter air, winter air.

I collect the shape of every face I see (I dabble in collecting things). One is like a wolf, one is like a cup, I memorized yours with my hands.

Our lungs are full of winter air, are full of winter air, winter air.

We walk through the snow, bent against the cold: I feel thin, but I feel free. Cross the iron bridge, past the run-down bar. You can have, have me now.

Ballad of J. Murphy

It was a humid air up on the hill. It was an old four-door you took up the hill: parked it facing down, keys on the dash with the windows down. It was a great wide field you crossed with your man. It was a knee-high grass. You laid down with your man, looking into his eyes. Your chestnut hair was blowing in your eyes. The slow gait of your words, were your whispering, and the buzz of insects, were you listening? Fifteen years old, your heart is young, your body’s cold. It doesn’t matter which one of you it doesn’t matter which one of you brought the pistol it doesn’t matter which one.

It was a fancy car that came calling for you. It crushed the wheel-high grass where it came for you. Took your pulse, but it had ceased. The sun had gone low, it was shining through the trees. I hope you got back on your feet in that speckled light. I hope you got back on your feet in that speckled light. Fifteen years old, your heart is warm, your heart is old.

Small Sky Country (What I’ve Found Part II)

I said I’d find you water, but the ledge where I dug was dry, said I’d cover those rafters, but we’re still looking at sky. And I know it’s only small sky country, but I hope you keep me company.

The stair I was building folded like a paper fan, and the mirror I was hanging reflected back a different man. I know I ain’t the only man you’ve seen, but I hope you keep me company. It’s what I want it’s what I’ve wanted.

Brought you home an accordion, but the bellows were in disrepair, the song I wrote for your singing was sad and a little too spare. And I know feeling free is a mighty nice feeling, but I hope you keep me company. It’s what I want it’s what I’ve wanted.

Well here is our bedroom, we can lay side by side. Yes it’s a hard floor, but on your back you can watch the sky. And I know it’s only small sky country, but I hope you keep me company cause I’m feeling nothing but tenderness towards you.

What I’ve Found

Well I feel the sun on my face, it’s what I’ve come for, it’s what I’ve come for, it’s what I’ve found.

And I lie in fields of tall grass, it’s what I’ve looked for, it’s what I’ve looked for, it’s what I’ve found.

I hold you in my arms, you’re what I’ve wanted, you’re what I’ve needed, you’re what I’ve found.

I taste the salt of your skin, it’s what I’ve come for, it’s what I’ve looked for, it’s what I’ve found.

I hold you in my arms, you’re what I’ve wanted, you’re what I’ve needed, you’re what I’ve found.