Fool's Gold

by T'BONE

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04:12
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03:21
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02:21
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02:51
9.
03:41

credits

released 30 August 2013

Recorded and Mixed by Luke Tweedy December, March, May, Oct 2012 and March 2013 at Flat Black Studio Iowa City, IA

Mastered by Carl Saff

Pat McPartland- Guitars, voice
Ed Bornstein- Drums, voice, synth
Lee Meiners- Bass, voice, synth


"Ugly Season" written and voiced by Chris Besinger
get his book: laughingmouse.net/books/the-usual-beast/

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feeds

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Track Name: Post-Competition
Sample at the beginning is from a City Council meeting that aired on Iowa City Public Access Television.

Not runnin' a race
Not runnin' a race to save face
Against who, not you
Against who, not you

I can't express my expresh
Not workin' on a line when I'm workin' on a line

No chart no graph
Don't wanna do the math

It's a learned behavior
Won't be my savior

Uncomfortable on the stand,
I get down to shake hands

This plan cannot have a number one fan

All One! On One!
Track Name: Time and Space
Make time, take time, save time and space
I don't like to run in place

What's inside?
I'll get it right today
Take it apart!
It's not so much, I see
What's Inside?
Focus on what's in sight/find and fix what's not right
Take it apart!
Track Name: Ugly Season feat. Chris Besinger
Ugly season blurs into an ugly season
And memories rush back unbidden

Guilt invokes a spasm the instant panic floods
to another interior explosion

And everyone on the street can see because
it spills out on the skin

And failure tattoos a map
as ugly season blurs into ugly season

Self-doubt magnifies every small sound
to a shrill cacophony

Damaging nerves and unleashing
Micro-rage after micro-rage

Put lids on quick fists

Ugly season blurs into ugly season
And memories rush back unbidden
Track Name: Willy
Willy!
WIll he get is sweets?
Lurking, working secret streets
Destination unknown
Creep, buy, wolf, jump, pumphome.

Brutal!
With a pair of sticks
Rolling dough, addicted to chips
His manners are supreme
Underlying hunger stays mean

(and he don't drink, don't smoke)

Willy!
WIll he get is sweets?
Lurking, working secret streets
Destination unknown
Creep, buy, wolf, jump, pumphome.
Track Name: Song of Praise
Dumb-dumb speaks
Touch hands, thighs
Eyes sighs
Number crunchers, and who are the brunchers
This time?

Crossfire!
We need to sing a Song of Praise
Just to her

Crossfire
Living legend in a realm
of minutiae

Young fun heat
Luck in lies
Truth rides
Under-funders are fooling the youngsters
High Tide

Gun fun chic
Tough man cries
Noose ties
Nothing up above his tomb
Inscribed

Crossfire!
We need to sing a Song of Praise
Just to her

Crossfire
Living legend in a realm
of minutiae
Track Name: City Rhythms
City Rhythm put me to bed
Itty-bitty rhythm rattles in my head

Slowly, silently slip into sleeping sound
Deep sheep jump up but they won't come back down to the ground

Dreaming is sacred
Only dreams are sacred
How do you like this life?
Track Name: Haunts
My old haunts are now haunting me
And they move and they sneak in a quiet way
Into the corners of my mind
They just refuse to be left behind

Another way
To avoid no-thank-yous
I cannot say
You'll have that

My old haunts are now haunting me
And they move and they sneak in a quiet way
Into the corners of my mind
They just refuse to be left behind
Track Name: Train Song
I heard a man on a city train telling the woman in the next seat that he read minds for a living. And to him, what he did was just a parlor trick. But to his believers, insights demanded a high price.

Let it ride
And you try
And you sleep
With your face on a wet pillow

Let it ride
And you sit next to a creep
And you sleep
With your face on the glass

That woman on a city train next to the fake future-seer did not approve of what she was hearing. "You are a liar! You are a charlatan!" Still, at the next stop he left proud, left defiant.

Let it ride
And you try
And you sleep
With your face on a wet pillow

Let it ride
And you sit next to a creep
And you sleep
With your face on the glass