Get all 8 The Mañana People releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Song Cycle, Or Music For The End Of Our Times, Words, Song Cycle, Or Music For The End Of Our Times, Pt. 1, You and the Undead, Princess Diana, Matchstick Man / Anthropophagus feat. Bonnie Prince Billy, Horror Songs EP, and The Mañana People EP.
1. |
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THE NIGHT YOU STOLE MY GUN
On the night you stole my gun
the air couldn’t have been sweeter.
End of the sidewalk, private lawn,
your logic’s voice, the jitters.
Some awkward weirdo’s skin disease
had wiped away half of this town,
electric honey poured from trees,
that little kid was never found.
The moon was high, the birds were gone,
on the night you stole my gun
On the night you stole my gun
my arms couldn’t have been lighter.
It’s the perks of being on the run,
that house had drawn me tighter.
Some tired lonesome gypsy witch
screamed our names and slammed the door.
Her one good eye reflects the green
I never saw on the trees before.
The rain was wine, our bread was stone
on the night you stole my gun
On the night we took that train
all compasses would point south,
the smell of dew filling the air,
the butterflies came closer
You never told me what you did,
the cat was crying, your dress was torn,
you threw the pills across the street,
I found the lipstick on the wall.
You only sang that foreign song
on the night you stole my gun.
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2. |
A Recess
05:28
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A RECESS
Holy cancer of misfit talk,
seems to guide me while I walk,
pass this old oak tree,
the only thing I love more is the older sea.
And I am old, and I am young,
and I am different in size.
The more I see what's going on,
the more I'm blind.
Heaven seizes my only home,
the sea deluges it like a comb,
can't pick it up, all the wood, the loam,
turn around and set out to roam.
And I am old, and I am young,
and I am different in size.
The more I see what's going on,
the more I'm blind.
Home, yeah I am home,
and there's no one else to see.
Home, yeah I am home,
and there's no one else to free.
Home, yeah I am home
and there's no one else to see.
Home, yeah I am home.
Holy cancer of misfit talk,
seems to guide me while I walk,
pass this old oak tree,
the only thing I love more is the older sea.
And I am old, and I am young,
and I am different in size.
The more I see what's going on,
the more I'm blind.
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3. |
The Perch
03:24
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THE PERCH
I know there’s something I should know
‘bout this world that’s bursting into flames,
there’s a thread of stories that keep me warm and sane,
That make the bottles too cold for my veins.
Well I slept last night in a magpie’s nest
made of shells from a stolen voodoo doll,
but the magpie’s perched on every word I say
and they fall exhausted by the weight.
And if you tell me I’ll be alright
I might forget the voice that rots my brain.
In this street I thought I could just hide my tracks,
going away.
Will you notice me when I’m not there?
Will you wish me well behind the broken stars?
Will you carry my head in a leather bag
whistling my song in the rain?
And if you tell me I’ll be alright
I might forget the voice that rots my brain.
In this street I thought I could just hide my tracks,
going away.
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4. |
We're Seagulls
04:10
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WE’RE SEAGULLS
A certain glow of vapor fairs,
there’s something solid in the air,
poor Maga in your Sunday best,
tin soldiers parts hang on your chest.
And I bless the aeons where you are.
I bless the aeons where you are
You could see the sun from behind his door,
he lost his mind between the wars,
he’d show you scars of purple love,
the soothing humming of the grove,
And I bless the aeons where you are.
I bless the aeons where you are.
Well, I’d rather die than part from you,
your seasick halo shining through,
I’ve crossed the ocean seven times
for your wired hair, your one good eye.
And I bless the aeons where you are.
I bless the aeons where you are.
Radioactive colors in the stars,
I bless the aeons where you are.
And I need the mantras, need the sun,
the company of an iron lung
that prays for me when I’m not home,
that gently sighs for flesh and bone.
I need the whores you seem to shock,
your twenty monkeys on a rock,
your fear of shadows in the sink,
the way you mock me when I think.
The way you mock me when I think.
All you did was waiting for
the moment you’d turn into gold,
and fish fat mermaids with your mouth,
and spread your wings and swing down south.
Spread your wings and swing down south.
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5. |
Kitchen Song
04:47
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KITCHEN SONG
And the I go down to our kitchen,
I'm gonna cook us up some food,
and then I purify your kitten,
I know it brightens up your mood.
You've had a long road to devotion,
but you've still gotta let it shine,
in your smile I see commotion,
I search the way to tell the sighs.
After the end comes our cakewalk,
just let the rain stroll by your side,
some velvet morning we will sweet talk
and watch the children in the light.
I bring you tea and bread and jelly,
I can't forgive what I once said,
and it reminds me still of Delhi,
can't you see what's in my head?
And the I go down to our kitchen,
I'm gonna cook us up some food,
and then I purify your kitten,
I know it brightens up your mood.
After the end comes our cakewalk,
just let the rain stroll by your side,
some velvet morning we will sweet talk
and watch the children in the light.
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6. |
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ONE NIGHT WHEN ALL THE TREES ARE FLAT (AND I'M A GIANT AND I'M NEARLY DEAD)
Raging to the cries of slugs,
she's talking to the city bugs.
Wonder what she might have heard
when lingering with the poet thugs.
Often I can see her cabin
on the dried out riverbank,
and I see what for lunch she's having,
it's always soft inside her fangs.
Mary, Mary, my deadly foe,
leather and tar from head to toe,
we can't do our cheap tricks, we wait for you.
Be always sure tow alk behind your shadow,
make it rise beneath the burning sky,
and if it ever shatters on a corner,
just be glad it wasn't you this time.
Just be glad.
Mother of the growing spheres,
she wanders through the mist of years.
We're decomposing slowly, die,
lovers make me love her spine.
The curch bells ring but she don't go,
keeping the balance of her lonesome sould,
the concrete gears of copper doors,
she comes to terms with getting low.
And when i burn will you regret the fire?
Will you miss my lonely enterprise?
Dig me out, extinguish my repulsion.
Just be glad it wasn't you this time.
Just be glad.
One night when all the trees are flat,
and I'm a giant and I'm nearly dead,
I'll go to her window and whisper her chant.
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7. |
The Lobotomy Kid
04:09
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The Mañana People Bonn, Germany
Homemade freak-folk and psych-country curiosities, ranging from theremin-driven honky tonk smashers, zombie-themed electro- pop ballads and horror spirituals. The Mañana People's output manages to swing harmoniously between the gutters of experimentation and the comfortable lightness of pop music. ... more
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