South San Gabriel Lyrics

UPDATE: 2010/10/01

It seems my goals have not only been reached but exceeded. On a recent check, this site was the number one result in Google for "South San Gabriel Lyrics". As such, I figured it should be updated to include songs from all relevant albums, not just The Carlton Chronicles for which is was created in the first place. Please use the simple but classic navigation below to locate the lyrics to the album or specific song you would like. Enjoy, and please remember to support artists and independent music.

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The Carlton Chronicles: Not Until the Operation's Through

I spent a good deal of time searching for these lyrics, ultimately to find them buried in the reply of a forum page. I figured I would make this page in hopes that a bit of SEO might help others in the future. All credit for content goes to the original poster, whom I can only assume has some relation to the band members because there is no way with a thousand listens I could have figured out these lyrics. Of course, much credit and appreciation to the band and artists who made this album in the first place. I had been listening to it for months and thought there was no way I could love it more. However, the insight provided by these lyrics certainly proved me wrong. Story line commentary is italicized below.

The Players: Carlton/Deacon - the cat Ron - the sparrow Kittyphone - Carlton's/Deacon's best friend Ramon - the dog next door Owner - nameless, faceless thus far.

Charred Resentment the Same

(We open with an address from Carlton/Deacon to Ron. Obvious disdain garnished with undeniable envy.)

My secret lust will now be publicized,
I wish to tell you my wish
You in the air with your fluff and stink,
I think I want nothing more
And I can see you here from the ground,
that stupid bliss in your eye
I'll wait 'cause I know you're coming down,
then things will change
Things will change for my better
And things will change to your blackest dreams
I will know from your feathers decorating my teeth
My envy for such ability is charred resentment the same
All in the guise of some passiveness, but you mistake. . .
My slavery to this gravity, your migratory skills
You laugh from bows, wires and chimney, but things will change
Things will change for my pleasure
And things will change to your darkest fear
I will know from your feathers decorating my fair dreams
You and your pompous-like circumstance (are) like shoehorns right down my throat
This daily strain of hostility is your mistake
For I will wait here patiently,
my body low to the ground
With my new, patented surgery things will change
Things will change in my belly
And things will change with your vertebrae
I will know from your feathers decorating my fair dreams

Predatory King Today

(Carlton/Deacon addresses Kittyphone. Ron meets his demise.)

Kittyphone, my morn has come
My Christmas in September sun
Ron, he will soon call Just to take the fall and die
Lick my arm and scrub my face
Contemplate and plot my chase
Show Ramon my stuff
The punk has taunted me enough
He will let me out
I'll hide beneath the house and wait
The dirt is cool beneath my paws
Darkness provides camouflage
The feeder brings him back
Unsuspecting of attack
Some falls to the ground
He'll never guess that I'm around
And it's so nice to be, curious and free this way!
And it's so good to be, the Predatory King today!
In a flash the blood runs fast
Can't undo that broken back
Feathers strewn about
His breath is getting short, running out
Sad he lost his fight
But I know I'll sleep well tonight

Affection's the Pay

(Carlton/Deacon returns to the indoors to relax and relish, disappointed to find that his owner is slightly peeved at his actions. An address, and perhaps an attempt to win the owner over with cuteness.) Dive straight in I think. Perhaps cross fade since both songs are in Gmaj, but keep both different texturally. Drum machine or drums(?) w/ Stella, then develop out from there instrumentally. Lots of vocal harmonies should serve as the mortar in this song.

My aggressiveness victimized me, can't you see?
My playing with paper sacks should impress you, you see?
The rain's coming fast, I might sleep it away
My self-admiration just stirred me at the doghouse today. Ohhh.
A daredevil twist, my reflection within
The slats of the floor, and outside the barking begins
I dash for the curtain, a glimpse of Ramon
Indolent, drooling and guarding a pheasantly bone. Ohhh.
My disposition might suggest that
I've not been perfectly clear
But checking history you'll find that I'm usually happiest here
My contribution to the cause is little of late
But you know, you know, you know, you know affection's the pay

The Dark of Garage

(Carlton/Deacon curiosity gets him in a slight jam that night. Another address to his owner.)

The dark of garage, locked up while you're away
The end of the day, there must be some mistake
The howl of Ramon, the cry of Kittyphone I can hear 'em outside,
and I guess they wonder why
And want the explain for my absence on this night
My curiosity, and thrill, and fun has since transformed to fright. Fright.
I lay my head down for the night
And tell myself everything's alright
Locked up in hopes of your coming home
Cold, cracked cement, me all alone

I Am Six Pounds of Dynamite

(As the night goes on, our hero's locked out, acknowledging the building tension between himself and the owner. Sad at first, he regains confidence, planning a departure. A continued address to his owner.)

Now I - I'm living locked outside
Sans opposable thumbs
So all I'll do is cry
And you - you said I can't behave
Forgot how to obey
My joke turned to a fight.
A fight.
So it stands - I'll break/scratch out through the side
And don't you think I can't I am six pounds of dynamite!
But wait - I'll stay out for the night
Bid farewell to Ramon And plan my distant flight.
Distant flight.
Goodbye.
It's time to say goodbye.

This Rookie Runs

(Finally on his own and on his way, our hero immerses himself in solitary, and ultimately temporary peace. A narrative or soliloquy as it were.)

This rookie runs, in the dead of night
Mastering absence, and fear enterprise
The song/call from within, the cicadas calls/sighs
Of directionless blisses, and privatest cries
The voices away, and the cardinal's song
Emotional lashings, the fighting is gone
And dawn/sunrise she/it awaits me, and I will go on
I tell me I'm free. I tell me I'm strong.
The sun soaks the days, 'til possum acts
He ain't the ace here, he ain't the jacks
He's just a rat, in expanded clothes
He's a purposeless mission. A bastard I know.

I Feel Too Young to Die

(Reality sets in, and the fantasy of fleeing maybe isn't all he thought it'd be. An inner narrative directed at his owner, Carlton/Deacon now considers coming home.)

I did not know of what you spoke, but got your faces all the same
I thought of stealing baby's breath, but stopped it when you came
The trouble, stress, and all the fuss, that I did leave with you
A comfort absent for a while, have you missed me, too?
An altercation possum-like, earned this broken leg
An illness somehow creeping in, now all I want is rest
Now I am in magnolia, and I am Indian paintbrush
I am drunk with fishen smells, mouse and nip and such
And I have hidden acorn shells, and I have dreamt of Ron
I will dream of some new fowl, now that he is gone
Still I will limp among these fields, chasing grasshopper
I have thought of brand new homes, knowing I'll return
I feel too young to die.

Stupid Is as Stupid Does

(Carlton/Deacon comes home, further addressing his owner)

I hope I don't, but I know I might
Have to end this whole flight
My notion of this whole fantasy has turned
Seven nights in wilderness
Required monstrous strength
Thought I had something going here but no, not now
"Stupid is as stupid does"
You whispered once unto me
A victim of my own strategy returned home
I'll limp onto my old sofa bed
Goddamn my leg
Sweat and shakes do encompass me. Just hold me. I am so sorry.

Sicknessing

(Back home, Carlton/Deacon deals with the unfortunate realities of his physical state and his eventual operation. In this address, he's back on good terms with his owner, but the future feels uncertain. And that's our story.)

A fall from the chair shows I'm perfectly off
If I could do anything, you know I would blast off
The aging and me, we don't get along
Appears that my/old strengths are not currently strong
If I could only choose
I'd like to sit with you
But not until the operation's through
If I could just speak, you would certainly know
The physical terror encompassing me
The sweat from within, the quiver and shake
The piss on the bed, the slobber I make
If I could only choose
I'd like to sit with you
But not until the operation's through
If I could have my way
I might just pass away
But not for lack of being here with you

The original post and source of this content can be found here.

 

Welcome, Convalescence

New Brookland

Make no mistake
We'll be the ones
To happily set you on fire.
As you hit the brakes a little too late,
Securing your date with the lake.

And I think
By now we're satisfied
With the way in which
You're buried by your lies.
And it seems
It seems our heavyweight
Can find unpleasant ways
To see you away.

It's juvenile,
Perverse and forgotten
All to your unflagging credit.
Rejuvenate was never an options
We lost you just east of New Brookland.

And I think
By now we're satisfied
With the way in which
You're buried by your lies.
And it seems
It seems our heavyweight
Can find unpleasant ways
To see you away.

In figure eights,
You try your escape.
The beginning was always the ending.
To circumvent
You're choking on the speeches that,
failed you before you came here.

And I think
By now we're satisfied
With the way in which
You're buried by your lies.
And it seems
It seems our heavyweight
Can find unpleasant ways
To see you away.

Saint Augustine

Your gunshots
Were stuck on repeat.
Drowning out the quietness
That I worked to create.
And there's you
You with your manicure.
And me in my stocking cap
In the trunk of your car.

Oh, to think
Of the explanations
That you will soon conjure
For the reporters.
With their beady eyes,
Strapped in pressed jackets.
With temperamental microphones,
And lack of respect.

So there's you
You with your car.
Headed for St. Augustine
Just as fast as the sun
I will see you again.

I will see you again.
I will see you again.
I will see you again.
I will see you again.

Smelling Medicinal

At the threshold
Of the day,
I complained
Of the records you played.

Unforgivable were the sounds
Of the shit
That you blared
From the house.

And I guess
That I was just shaken
From the rage
Was hard fisted, pissed, tired and feathered
Freshly escapen' from the cage.

And I suppose
That you were just searching
For something to say
You were smelling medicinal,
Juggling the daggers
That I tried to hide away.

Along with them sultry pictures
That never once met
My unholy demands.

The slings and hammers
That you've collected
The poisonous arrows
And happiness found in an axe.

And I guess
That I was just shaken
From the rage
Hard fisted, pissed, tired and feathered
Freshly escapen' from the cage.

And I suppose
That you were just searching
For something to say
You were smelling medicinal,
Juggling the daggers
That I tried to hide away.

The sweet tranquil end of the day.
Was sodden with liquor,
In conditional anger we lie.
Under fluorescent stars
That are stuck to the ceiling
Your custom made universe,
As we take to the sky.

And I guess
That I was just shaken
From the rage
Hard fisted, pissed, tired and feathered
Freshly escapen' from the cage.

And I suppose
That you were just searching
For something to say
You were smelling medicinal,
Juggling the daggers
That I tried to hide away.

Everglades

Constantly protected
But somehow so damaged.
Your lingering aesthetic
And burning eyes deceive.

Lost within some sleeplessness
The americium.
Was central to that sickness
And keeps with your transmission.

This disintegration
Was surely yours to keep.
You're stranded in the Everglades
And wrapped within a sheet.

Extend into the slough.
I'll watch you while you sleep.
Preserving your condition,
Bound by mercury.

This disintegration
Was surely yours to keep.
You're stranded in the Everglades
And wrapped within a sheet.

all the criminals, just outside the door
disguised with hatchets, and secrets galore
with their faces scowling at the amber light within
in the hallway closet, i was trembling
after 40 hours, I was wandering
held hostage through, the august days I burned
in the center closet I was festering
and 6 weeks later, to prison they returned
and it's been 30 years, since we did come this way
and the time has come, for you to serve your pay.

Like a Madman

At your feet
Was a mouthpiece and nozzle.
Fit for the gas
Spreading all through the house.
And in a box
At the end of the hallway.
Wrapped up were valentines
That I once gave to you.

And I swear I did not know
About the leak under the floor.
Like a madman
Just waiting to take us
And kill us good.

At our heads
Was a needlework pillow
Fit for the rest
That we need so desperately.
And out the window
Was the obvious escape hatch
But we were busy dreaming
And spending all our lottery.

And I swear I did not know
About the leak under the floor.
Like a madman
Just waiting to take us
And kill us good.

And I swear I did not know
About the leak under the floor.
Like a madman
Just waiting to take us
And kill us good.

Evangaline

The pleurisy was setting in
On his wedding day.
Feeling less than muscular,
He pined for better days.

Call us anytime
You ever think you see.
The slightest sacred sign
Of sweet Evangeline.

He shot straight through Meridian
On that blessed day.
Frozen by the smell
Of Peaveys being made.

Call us anytime
You ever think you see.
The slightest sacred sign
Of his Evangeline.

Call us anytime
Sweet Evangeline.

Ariza / 284

Come on down
The 284.
In your fastest automobile
On this Christmas Eve.
And cut your
Machinery off.
And shut all your books.

And race it down the 284
We'll count all the house fires
The sweetest smile
I ever did see
Is right before me.

The sweetest smile
That I ever did see
Is right before me.

The Splinter Angelic

To travel quietly
Out from the passage.
If only to see
The Splinter Angelic

He's slightly out of reach
From he who has cast it.
From Fort Necessity
Back into Texas.

He's finding all the courage left to leave
Responsibility.
Climbing all the currents for to see
The silver light that bleeds.

And the blackness recedes
Out in the distance.
And bless the coming day
For he who has cast it.
And gather to see
Florence's bastard.
From Fort Necessity
Back into Texas.

He's finding all the courage left to leave
Responsibility.
Climbing all the currents for to see
The silver light that bleeds.

 

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