1. |
BIRD AND THE ROCK
03:46
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YOUNG AND FULL FROM THE FIRST KILL, A THINK YOU WOULDN’T WANT TO THINK OF A SMALL BOY AT THE BACK OF THE YEAR, WITH A ROCK AND A BROKEN WING
WOUNDED FIRST ABOVE THE ALMOND TREES AND FELL SWIFTLY FROM THE SKY, TO THE EARTH AMONGST CRACK SHELLS AND DRY LEAVES IT CURLED
THE BOY WAITING FOR HIS MOTHER’S CALL, HE ACTED NEXT IN DAPPLED LIGHT. HE BROUGHT DOWN THE ROCK AND PUSHED IT SLOWLY THROUGH THE DIRT
YOUNG AND FULL FROM THE FIRST KILL, IN YOUTH AND DAPPLED LIGHT, THE SHADE FROM THE ALMOND TREES, THE BOY, THE BIRD AND THE ROCK
YOUNG AND FULL FROM THE FIRST KILL, A THING YOU WOULDN’T WANT TO THINK OF A SMALL BOY. IN THE SHADE OF THE ALMOND TREES, THE BOY, THE BIRD AND THE ROCK
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2. |
THE DRY HUNGER
01:55
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NOW THAT THE FIRST HAD BEEN DONE AND DUSTED AND WHEN THAT DAY WAS DONE, HE’D REST IN HIS MOTHER’S NOOK.
WHEN BEFORE THERE WAS A CURIOSITY THERE WAS NOW A CAUSE AND A HUNGER FOR MORE THAT GREW FEVERISH, WE CAN ALL BE SURE. ON SOME OTHER DAYS WHEN THEY SURFACED BEFORE RAIN, HE’D LIT MATCHES TO BURN ANTS AND BEES.
THROUGH THE FOLLOWING YEARS HE GREW RESTLESS WITH ONLY A FEW CHANCES TO FEEL THE SAME. THE CAT FROM UP THE STREET AND THE KID THAT FELL IN THE POOL THAT LIVED NEXT DOOR.
IT HAD BEEN A WHILE SINCE THE BIRD, THE ALMOND TREES HAD BLOSSOMED STILL AND IN HIS BONES A DRY HUNGER, FOR THE NEXT THING TO KILL
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3. |
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HIS BLOOD RUNS HOT, HIS BLOOD RUNS COL, YES HIS BLOOD RUNS HOT AND COLD WHEN YOU’RE IN THE TUNNEL OF HIS VISION
HE’LL HOLD YOU DOWN, HE’LL HOLD YOU RIGHT THERE SO YOU CAN’T MOVE AND INCH. AND HE CAN TASTE, OH HE CAN TASTE EVERY BIT OF AIR COMING FROM YOUR BODY. HE CAN’T STOP, NO HE CAN’T STOP UNTIL YOU STOP MOVING WHEN YOU’RE IN THE TUNNEL OF HIS VISION
AND YOU SMELL, YOU SMELL JUST LIKE THE GROUND FROM WHEN HE DUG THE HOLE TO PUT YOUR WIFE. AND YES YOU SMELL, YOU SMELL JUST LIKE THE GROUND FROM WHEN HE DUG THE HOLE TO PUT YOUR DOG WHEN YOU’RE IN THE TUNNEL OF HIS VISION
HE CALLS YOUR NAME, HE GROANS IT SLOWLY, HIS VOICE IS LOW AND YOU CAN’T HELP BUT RUN AND CRAWL. HE’S TOWERING OVER, HE FEELS JUST LIKE A GOD AND HE NEEDS YOUR LAST BREATHE TO PUSH UP TO THE SKY, IN THE TUNNEL OF HIS VISION
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4. |
THE WEIGHT
01:24
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HE’D NEARLY BEEN CAUGHT IN THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT, THE FIRST TIME SINCE THE BIRD, IT’D BEEN FOUND IN A BOX UNDER HIS BED, PUT THERE TO KEEP
HIS VISION HAD NARROWED TO A POINT AND SHARPENED WERE HIS SENSES, CHASING A MAN DOWN THROUGH THICKETS AND OVER FENCES. HE’D WOUND UP IN A PADDOCK IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT, SHIELDING HIS FACE RIGIDLY FROM PASSING CAR LIGHTS
WITH ONE FIST CLENCHED HE STOOD ANCHORED BY WHAT WAS ABOUT TO BE DONE. HELD BY THE WEIGHT OF THE MOMENT AND ANCHORED BY THE WEIGHT OF THE GUN
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5. |
WALKING MAN
02:57
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OVER TIME THE BOY HAD TURNED TO MAN, FOR HIM THE DAYS COUNTED BY THE CLAIMED. TO HIM HE WAS THE END OF ALL AND WE ALL HIS PREY.
HIS YEARS MEASURED IN THE HOLES DUG AND THE BLOSSOM ON THE TREE. HE SLEPT ROUGH BAITED ONLY BY THE NEXT CHANCE, HEDGING HIS BETS HE IS THE WAKING MAN
THE DAYS WITHOUT THE HUNT WERE LONG, THE DAY OF THE BIRD LONG GONE AND THE FEVER KEPT CHURNING WITH AN ACHE IN HIS SIDE. WITH A HOLE WIDE OPEN. HE SLEPT ROUGH BAITED ONLY BY THE NEXT CHANCE, HEDGING HIS BETS HE IS THE WALKING MAN
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6. |
THE COLLARS HE KEEPS
01:24
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THE LAST KILL MAY SEEM ONLY AIMLESS TO SOME BUT WHEN THE DAY WAS DONE, IT’S WHAT GOT HIM THROUGH
FROM THE PROUD TO THE POOR, THE RICH TO THE MEEK WHO CURLED UP TO LICK THEIR WOUNDS FROM CUTS THAT RAN DEEP.
FROM THE BIRDS AND THE PETS OF NEIGHBORS, THE COLLARS HE KEEPS. TO THE SONS OF OTHERS AND THE WIVES OF A FEW
THIS LAST KILL MAY SEEM ONLY AIMLESS TO SOME BUT WHEN THE SUN IS DOWN, IT’S WHAT GETS HIM THROUGH
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7. |
SACKCLOTH WHISTLE
03:25
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HE PREPARED FOR THE BAD THING, BECOMING PART OF THE SCENE, TO STOP THE ACHE IN HIS SIDE BELOW THE RIBS AND ABOVE THE HIP. WHERE HE’D TAKE A ROCK AND A FEATHER TO KEEP, THUMPING HIS CHEST ALONG TO THE SOUND IN HIS HEAD
AND THE SOUND IN HIS HEAD, WITH IT HE WHISTLES AND HUMS. IT’S THE SONG OF THE BIRD FROM WHEN HIS STORY BEGUN
HE PREPARED FOR THE BAD THING AND IN THE YARD HE FELT ALONE, HE SNIFFED AT THE BRITTLE BREEZE AND THE NIGHT ENGULFED. HE LOWERED HIMSELF DOWN INTO THE HOLE THAT HE’D DUG WITH THE WANT TO GET LOW AND TO BE ONE WITH THE GROUND
AND THE SONG THAT HE WHISTLES, THE SOUND OF THE BIRD’S SQUEAK AS HE’D PUSHED THAT ROCK SLOWLY THROUGH ITS SMALL LITTLE HEAD
LIKE THE HOLE IN HIS SIDE, THIS HOLE NEEDED TO BE FILLED AND LIKE THE THINGS HE HAD BURIED, HE NOW NEEDED TO BE KILLED. THEN WITH ARMS SPREAD OUT WIDE, HE BREATHED OUT ALL OF HIS AIR, THE SCENE THEN CAME ALIVE AND HIS EYES GLAZED AND STARED
AND THE SOUND IN HIS HEAD, ALONG TO IT HE WHISTLED AND HUMMED, IT’S THE SONG OF THE BIRD FROM WHEN HIS STORY BEGUN.
THEN NOW DOWN IN THE HOLE WHERE HE’D PLACED SO MANY BEFORE, HE’D DONE THE VERY BAD THING, THE BIRD’S SONG IT’S SCORE
HE’D PREPARED FOR THE BAD THING BACK WHEN HE HEARD THE BIRD SING, TO STOP THE ACHE IN HIS SIDE AND BECOME PART OF THE SCENE
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8. |
THE BIRD'S SONG
02:09
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NOT SO YOUNG AND FULL FROM THE LAST KILL, NOW ANCHORED IN THE GROUND AT THE BACK OF THE YARD IN THE SACKCLOTH WHISTLING
WHERE ONCE A BOY WAITING FOR HIS MOTHER’S CALL HE’D REMEMBERED THE DAPPLED LIGHT. WHERE HE’S BROUGHT DOWN THE ROCK AND PUSHED IT SLOWLY THROUGH THE DIRT.
NOT SO YOUNG AND FULL FROM THE LAST KILL ALONG WITH THE OTHERS IN THE GROUND, IN THE SACKCLOTH BELOW THE ALMOND TREES. WHERE FIRST THE BIRD AND THE ROCK, HIS TALE ENDED, THE BIRD’S SONG HIS SCORE
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GARRETT R. COOPER Adelaide, Australia
Songs written and recorded as abruptly as possible between 2009 and 2016.
All music now written and released under the name MULE
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