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few too many moons

by Boat Haus

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1.
take it down from the scent above your shoulder upturned faces at the cases of neurosis a blue above is casting all over a clue, my love I need one, I do do this for you if you'll take it from me to give it up, give it up to the people in need the mixed message to shrug off your shoulder a fixed message for the eye of beholder beholden to all the people you knew you cut hard at the links that bonded you to the patron saints too soon sent to heaven no one plus one don't equal eleven twelve plus one that's a baker's dozen that's an unlucky number for an untrue husband who flew with you a fit at the weather he never knew you'd fly like a feather and whip around on a whistle of the wind we're slowing up and we can see it's a sin but set a pinwheel turning it's only gonna spin so many times till it's needing another flick of the wrist or the friction'll smother the airflow that made the sailing smooth there's only one kinda word that's really gonna sooth your many wounds of a synthetic redness smothered life force but I've been sensing a deadness it's gaining ground through a seed well sowed it's catching up, seizing up all your features to stone your eye, my dear is falling from focus I'll try, you'll hear to locate the locus of memories I thought were safe in the bank needn't look too far for those we should thank for pulling out of the race after miles full of doubt it would take such a while and whip around on a whistle of the wind
2.
steam swirl 04:12
before the wind churns and the wheels roll before the taps turn and the cats cajole sun pseudo-buried in the hill side tilt up to peer down on a low tide stony beach a salty water rubdown limit reach of a salty eye of a deep brown set a patch of fog on fire orange steam swirl up a little higher and the balance the balance is the striking thing cause not for nothing does a good heart sing after the clear out and the dimming down after the dusk doubts and the mutant sound moon pseudo-buried when the clouds ride streaking through to mingle with the streetlights
3.
turn around 02:35
never thought I'd dive in for the answer but dip a toe and the next ya know she cuts the banter low-pressure system cross her forehead think my tension breaking joke set off a warhead seasons gonna change before we find words was my blooming belief misheard or deferred stony faced and steel-plated ethics versus a head hangin lower than her beaded necklace can you be made to feel numb fingers grippin the wheel if I rip rhyme and steal thick skin I think I can peel turn around turn around that turn of thought turn it around turn around turn around that turn of thought
4.
part of it's how she makes a house a home yeah smoothin edges on a an urge to roam yeah those pools of a a blue so blue ocean and sky made one from two now that's a heart pumping up like a river bends and curves rushin into a quiver strength and sorrow for the lucky few all I need is just to burn a new she don't lack for the good humour got no time for the the gory rumours prefers the company of the four-legged they animate her day and run her ragged sparkin her mind and imagination giving her character illumination tippin all the love to sunny blonde head I'm in your debt till I'm all but dead two winks for the pair entwined let yourself go to swing on vines and I know to find a peace of mind two winks at the dotted line let yourself to go to swing on vines I know to find a peace of mind stepping up to the the road shoulder climbing up just a a little older clear skies hummin for smooth sailors open roads runnin with tractor trailers taking steps some in the right direction hope that came off with the right inflectoin keepin it steadier is the trick it seems level the spikes out wake up from feverish dreams brush off from the the cold shoulder get out from under the heavy boulders recognize a rose just as it's blooming there before your eyes so unassuming ya ever see a face so free of malice only her rowing hands the least bit callous tippin all the love to the sunny blonde head I'm in your debt till I'm all but dead
5.
lose sight 03:27
smiling all the way to the bank what of the people we didn't thank will they be looked at like the strangers? of that there is no little danger that point in the sky where you lose sight of the birds you watch fly they keep climbing up to garden's lost balloons and set down in a crater on the moon laughing all the way to the train mining all the pleasure in pain moving when we cant stand still talk and talk to keep the silence from building
6.
tough love and anvils fall for you for me for me for you for me gold teeth and halos glow for you for me for me for you for me fair ghost and pistols call for you for me for me for you for me worn shoes and tarots talk for you for me for me for you for me you a look but it's gone (gone) longer days parted ways but not for long will they see it through if it's gone is it gone? don't you say you tried trying might just lead to debate
7.
odor of a chopped and powdered ginger don't let her start in on the trigger finger dusty red old rovers linger to try and catch a note from gospel singers frame ourselves between basalt and granite below a blue to blaze out any sunlit stage above a red so red you think it would split any rubber sole to step into its orbit we're granted for the moment a little piece of the bigger token disenchanted's a fickle notion when up all over's a blue unbroken standing with the sky stretched out forever land rolls out to meet it and to get together horizon line fuzzed out like feathers we'll chase it down and never tire ever without all of the disappointed people the view is that of birds atop a steeple which pricks up into skies like a needle and pinpoints the place of dreaming beadles
8.
wade: far out, far out trade: your doubt, don't pout spark bonafide flame and think, but don't recall buck up frown chase silhouettes in clouds sit still with your kindergarden curls buck up frown test cities to the grown sit still with your kindergarden curls fade from routes, sea scout parade it and all out call out "damned if I'm to blame" and think to throw their gall buck up frown chase silhouettes in clouds sit still with your kindergarden curls buck up frown test cities to the ground sit still with your kindergarden curls buck up frown find currencies to drown sit still with your kindergarden curls blink into eyes that see through bullshit's sheen see bob jump the string bean? we're ours. clad in fresh breath drawn free hand barren palms sea sick lost awakened
9.
take pause 02:21
get off the land and get on the move give self to see straight through the dues that aint your's to owe and aint her's to take when the well runs dry your love tastes fake take pause to rub the blind from your eyes the blood can't flow through hardening lines pump as I will you're kinking the hose I won't come up so high to bring down your nose honestly I do wish you could be true and I could be true, too to be caught up in so small a place with all that room for leaving a trace well I'm all but through being on my guard better to take the jab cause they don't hit hard hit hard
10.
raise your eyes to the ceiling and throw your arms up in dismay cause there's a bend to your leaning that looks a bit like you're at bay now is that because you're leaving with a fistful of questions and a chestful of heaving you take everything but possession you're uncollected walk away from your shadow to a shaded place, tucked away a dark to dim your skyway I'm not hiding a dagger nor am I scheming your ruin just thought I'd say hi hello hey and maybe ask how you're doing sit down and let's talk it over cause surely something's the matter for you to hold me at gunpoint every time I catch your eye and something shatters

credits

released August 2, 2014

Greg Hewlett - vocals, guitars, bass, synth, trumpet, harmonica, tambourine
Jake Nicoll - drums, shakers, synth
Rodney Russell - vocals
Ilia Nicoll - vocals, violin & viola
Aley Waterman - vocals
Noah Bender - trumpet
Tim Callanan - keys

All songs by Greg Hewlett
Album artwork by Greg Hewlett
Recorded, mixed and mastered Upstairs by Jake Nicoll, June-July 2014.

Thank you to Jake, Rodney, Ilia, Aley, Noah, and Tim for playing on this thing.

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Boat Haus St. John'S, Newfoundland and Labrador

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