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by Leonard Redriver

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A re-visit from an old pal.

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released June 2, 2010

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Leonard Redriver Cambridge, Massachusetts

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Track Name: End Wind
The End Wind
The end wind a blowin’
Blowin the leaves of doom into America’s room
The end wind a blowin’
A knockin’ at your door with the threat of a really big war
A war so insanely big, really I’m not kidding, it would be devastating
Your eyeballs will melt into a putrid, infernal stew
One that affects me and you
Your precious testes will flay and turn totally black, following a nuclear attack
Did I mention your eyeballs?
I assume I already did, I’m sort of fixated on that fact
Ok, let’s move on
Radiation would give host to a fetid symphony of gross
Boils, tumors and lesions
No more Christmas for you, your torso is split in two
Don’t get me a’ goin’ on mutants
They will totally eat your skin, that’s the pickle we’re currently in
Your eyeballs will melt like plastic
Forming grotesque and terrible scars, skeletons driving cars
The end wind, a’ blowin’
Procreate while you can
Before your semen turns to sand
Water will be an issue
Irrigation throughout the land will be my political stand
Vote Redriver
In a macabre turn of events you never know who you can trust
Track Name: Dear Lord
Dear Lord

Dear lord, I apologize
It’s true I have sinned many times
I’m sorry for that time that I pissed on the post office
I was totally convinced that they were in cahoots with the CIA
It was at the tail end of a six day mescaline binge
And when I came to I realized I had stuffed my mail-slot with chicken
Dear lord, I apologize
Im sorry for that time I covered my son with leeches
I was fairly sure that it was the only way to stop Ollie North’s brainwave communications that ordered my son’s eyeballs to verbally threaten me
Dear Lord, I apologize
For that time in Topanga Canyon when I filled a sack with rocks and swung it above my head
And about the seventh time I threatened Dean Stockwell, Joni Mitchell stopped me and I barfed all down her front
Dear Lord, I apologize
To my 5th ex-wife Maria, who’s life I repeatedly threatened
You have to understand I was totally fucking loaded
Handfulls of pills who’s names I can’t remember
Mood swings a-plenty
I even wore a diaper
I tried to climb our farm house and light time on fire
I was sure I could talk to raindrops by simply using mathematics
I once made pajamas out of Betty Crocker cake mix
Please understand that whiskey didn’t help much
When I screamed to my children that santa had dreadlocks
Dear lord, I apologize
I convinced my family you could use a deer to make music
Or that time I tried to make a computer out of mayonnaise
We didn’t surf the net but my God it was delicious
Dear lord, I apologize
Track Name: Gypsy Marmalade Caravan
Gypsy Marmalade Caravan
Gypsy marmalade caravan
Have you any room for me?
Promise me the ride be a comfort
Bring shall I some pipe weed plenty?
Bring shall I any books or snacks?
Gypsy marmalade caravan
Sing shall we a weary tune?
“Da-doo-run-run” or “camp cranada”
Do I need to bring a bathing suit?
I only ask because it will take me along time to find mine
I think I left them at my friend scott’s house
Depending on when we’re leaving I can get him to come drop them off
Gypsy marmalade caravan
I think I should mention my phobia of trucks
If pass one should we I shall need some assistance
I have packed jo-jo, my favorite teddy
If scared become I, he shall bring me comfort
Gypsy marmalade caravan
How does the marmalade caravan rate on safety?
Believe do I, that I may rate low
Gypsy marmalade caravan
Is there a functioning radio?
Not a huge deal, I just thought I’d ask
Gypsy marmalade caravan
Lo evermore shall this rule be:
What goes on tour stays on tour
Track Name: Gotta Hole in My Soul
Gotta Hole In My Soul
I gotta hole in my soul that wont wash away
My 2 black boots are shakin’ harder every day
I say I’m leavin’, but you’re beggin’ me to stay
I just might have to chase my dreams
I got an image of your face that’s getting’ fuzzier with time
So very fuzzy I can’t even make a rhyme
Incredibly fuzzy, I’m serious this time
I just might have to chase my dreams

I just took a bunch of hits, and I drank a jug o’ wine
Pretty soon, I’ll be feelin’ mighty fine
The doses haven’t hit me, but I’ll give it a little time
The carpet just engulfed my feet

O my god, I am tripping really hard
I might smear jelly on my body in the yard
On second thought that might be kinda bad
I think I’ll contemplate the concept of heat

Later on I will realize that heat is merely a construct of the mind
That I’m a spirit that can vomit time
And all my friends are nazi’s with radio’s for eyes
I sure hope my belt stops threatening me