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by Leonard Redriver

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1.
End Wind 04:23
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
2.
Dear Lord 03:59
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
3.
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
4.
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

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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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