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Coal Miner's Fodder

from The Summer We All Bought Guns by Kevin Dixon

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about

I tried to channel my inner Garfunkel for this one. I really did, but I guess I'm just a simple Simon. Oh well, zero out out of one ain't horrible. It's really hard to use the word "turd" in a melancholy sort of song without ruining the mood, but I went there anyway. I do think I may have achieved the most emotionally resonant usage of the word in a popular music format ever though, so there's that.

lyrics

Forgive my introduction but our days are wearing thin. Too jacked up and bedazzled to play this game again. The folly and the fumbles, the commotion in your hair. Gonna look for the golden valley, that wasn't ever there. Hold off until we get to town so I can rest my head, and dream of all the villains that are rising from the dead. I hope to meet my mascot. I hope to meet him soon. Gonna set his big head on the level and wait until he calls for you. The awful fires of Heaven compel you to eat dirt. The powers that be won't rest until you're handing in your shirt. I don't know what to tell you, cuz it ain't really clear. The best odds I can give you are a warning. Oh won't you stay for all the hard times to come. Don't be late because it's fun! Won't you play until the house is falling down, or do you hope that it's already gone? Are you hoping it's just gone? How often do we wonder just what it takes to prove? Give thanks to all the good things and cry when we're abused. The passion and the labor, the howls of discontent. Gonna take a bit more than heavy mettle to plow this field again. You can round up all your captives and bind them to your hate. May ten thousand dirty old bastards come clawing at your gate. Will it end in a violent frenzy, or taper off like a turd? It's the least that I can give you. It's more than what you're worth. The Autumn sky it rumbles and brings forth the millionaire, who purports the extra value of the little that he shares. But it ain't much of a bounty when you're chucking out paper towels. Take two pills and call me in the morning. Oh won't you sing a little halfhearted song? Don't be afraid to be dethroned. Nobody wants you to get back in the zone. We're only praying that you're done. I'll find another rat's nest where I can run and hide. I ride a filthy mattress a six pack at my side. Pardon my disposition. My favorite things are few. Lost my grip on the handle and now they're even fewer.

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from The Summer We All Bought Guns, released November 1, 2020

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