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The Great Giver

by Numbo

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1.
2.
Don't let me drown in the wide open sea I still got a ways to go Don't make me out as any worse than you a plebeian devout Long is the rope to divide outer space it's really just a rope and we trust you'll let it be my daughter took my gun to college she ran away Rope around your neck when a diamond was what you need just let it taper off, oblivion seems fine Don't kiss me girl, I only have eyes for weed Hold me loosely; I don't want to die but you know what I mean Let's drink another; two bottles' not that bad and you're all over me Lord, save me now it's just dry open space It's in your hands Your dirty hands
3.
4.
5.
6.
For thought probiotic stimulation it was just a book or a conversation We were the widow's house trash in the windows as decoration Collapsing on your suitcase As a means for acceptance It's why you run to New York City a wheat field of confused sailors Three prong plug expectation to free your mind form your gut and its microbes dangled feet in pajamas, cocaine not tonight, just smile goodbye Send me a video of you telling the truth a thief for our betterment you're such a good host I wanted to be alone before you intrude Returned all my tools Now I carry your ghost Angle wired noise, confidence provided by your dispensation a pari of gloves, a mule a boxer with no nerve endings in his fingers the only compliment I heard came from your honest art-speak a child's penchant for inadvertent offense but you were lucky to me a mangrove of management to get you to live I gave you my lexicon Thought you'd need it the most A network of plebeians telling you you're wrong They'll never know that you hated them So it's me who carry's your ghost Maybe you figured out What you needed most tried but we couldn't see It's you who carried the ghost and now I wander the earth without a host and no object for affection

credits

released October 13, 2016

Troy Conn: guitar solos
Jeremy Rychard Snyder: everything else

Album art by Stefan Koekemoer

Note: The drone/noise section at the end of "Highway, Brother" is a mixdown of a segment of the last reel Grant Harding used on his analog tape machine.

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Numbo New York

Songs from New York.

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