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The Flowing Burial Ground

by Eric Wallgren

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    Rat river tapes! Produced by Midwest Action

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1.
hang me out on a clothing line cut me open tell me what you find my warm muscles my bones my spine none of those are really mine burning city gasoline to feed a fire blazing memory I'm running with the bulls the matathon it drowns way behind the starting line I'm melting in a city swamp a fly could grab my feet and drag me off a cliff if I don't get the fire in me to burn down these mirror cages lining up the street scratching out my eyes turning forward big levers that move my limbs and churn me through this aching temperament there's really no escape except inside and I've been down there It's just squacking rats and boiling sludge bite my tongue I know you will eat it raw send me the bill you're the knife and I'm your fill sittin' pretty waiting for the kill burning city gasoline to feed a fire blazing memory my foxhole is a mess it's smoke wafts to the street and creeps into the sidewalk cracks as I starve here inside a glass jar breathing in this dirt wandering the mall without a penny to my name I steal a taste of fountain water this can't be the place I must be in a gap a cloud of dust that's all my own and when I walk it moves around me Babylon is drowned beneath a pool of mud a lightning bolt strikes down my foxhole all my shit is loose among the world take a spot in the swarming hive tumble forward try and stay alive this is hardly getting by walking 'round feeling three feet high burning city gasoline to feed a fire blazing memory eating garbage looking clean under a slow eruption so serene the hammer strikes down everything and I don't have a mind to shout or sing burning city gasoline to feed a fire blazing memory
2.
I've been fuming all this week because my roommate's cat climbed on my bed and peed he waited in the morning 'til I was at work I swear I could have gone and squashed the little jerk but when he brushes his ears up on my knee and digs his head into my lap while I watch TV it's like a lighter held up to my sugar heart I try to hold my ground but I just fall apart hearing little sparks that whisper roughly drawn to something bleeding in my hands flaming up the moment I go hungry trouble must love me it was quiet i was feeling calm when a clump of bees flew right into my palm and I felt every sting like searing drops of rain I said to myself "this is necessary pain" and like winds of greed they charge all the money I saved up to live at large so now I'm stung by crimes that will not go away inside this building swarm is where I'm gonna stay moving all the time to stay above me sinking all my steps like in a dream a quiet ghost forever in front of me trouble must love me requited by a fear that I am nothing fast asleep and trampled on the stairs it hugs me so tight my backbone is crumbling trouble must love me
3.
Claude Dillinger sleeping like a sky without a bird clean like a cat sleeping when he heard a crawling rat and so he woke up and he switched on a light he saw the rodent staring like a star in the night Claude jumped to chase it running out of his door and down the stairs they all were on his basement floor just like a ghost a presence that was felt inside his home but never close to calming down the nerve of his shadow he saw the grave in which he wanted to drown and haunt the waters of a flowing burial ground sinking in the crawling to feel light Claude ran upstairs frightened by the sight and unprepared to face those rats all swirling like a whirlpool so he sat up in his kitchen and he heard that the squeels grew louder in his mind until he knew it was real that more and more were joining up in the swell they wanted Claude to join him and they called to his soul just like a ghost a presence that was felt inside his home becoming close to calming down the nerve of his shadow he saw the grave in which he wanted to drown and haunt the waters of a flowing burial ground sinking in the crawling to feel light
4.
I woke up in a storm of knives throwing themselves through my skies there's not enough coffee in the world this morning's foggy and I'm maybe sure the word you're looking for is lost so quiet but you've always talked in spite of what you have to say 3:28 and I'm awake in bed pulling tangles in my jead I've lost a marble tongue today God make me never sleep again humid smoke drips from my cold skin a race against a ghost I'll never win there's not enough guts in me to try and break this sonic ground that makes me cry you can't remember where you put yourself are you behaving like someone else sleeping might be free but dreaming isn't cheap I've had some dreams that no one will find out I still don't know what they're about let's call it quits and go to sleep I hope I never dream again
5.

about

There are times you must struggle against the current in the flowing burial ground; to hang on to those things that you would otherwise lose. But for now, go ahead and flow into the mystery that's living below those waters. Open up to all the deaths and the renewals you will find in that release.

singing + machines by Eric Wallgren

tactial tapes via Midwest Action

credits

released September 9, 2019

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about

Eric Wallgren Chicago, Illinois

noise pop/electronic singer-songwriter \\\\\
For booking: ericwallgren323@gmail.com

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