Get all 8 Lonely Deer releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Buh-Bye, Lonely Deer's Ringtones Vol. II, Lonely Deer's Ringtones Vol. 1, Sailboat (single), The Saddle, Love Songs from a Lonely Deer, Let Me Make You Dinner, and Hey Ladies, I'm Sick.
1. |
Like Bombs
04:05
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Your footsteps are like bombs
In the pockets of them all
You bat your eyes, they all die
You bat your eyes, they die
They die....
Birds are chirping for the future
And moaning for the past
Another bad egg out there, having a blast
A blast....
There’s no secrets to unlock
There’s no equalization reform
We said it in our platform—
We’re the party of promise
We stand for promise—nothing more
So I hit up a few dozen beer gardens
And I wrote a very bad poem:
Tears get caught in your beard
And grow their own worlds
Grow their own furies and fears
Oh, there’s nothing special about any of this
Nothing happened that wasn’t culled from some list
So you fell off your stride—no shit
So you fell off your ride—no shit
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2. |
Foxtrot 6 1973
03:14
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Foxtrot 6, 1973.
Foxtrot 6, 1973.
Coming up over the hill.
Aw, hell.
For 110 million years,
I have been so still.
Nothing beaten on rocks, no food, no screams,
no lumbering prance through the trees.
Just the moans of the tectonic plates shifting
terrifyingly, powerfully,
by this planet that’s caught me in its fucking net,
that’s crowned me The Patron Saint of Nothingness.
Then after the years,
the miner busts through the wall
and shows me that praise means nothing at all,
and talent means even less,
and stillness...
Stillness, my dear, just leads to emptiness.
Foxtrot 6, 1973.
Foxtrot 6, 1973.
Coming up over the hill.
Aw, hell.
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3. |
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There’s a genius in you, Teddy Bear.
Your rubies lips, your lemon hair.
Your button eyes that I've excised with scissors
from your tiny face.
I kept them in a cluttered drawer by my cigarettes and paste.
There’s a mystery in your wrap of fur,
the haunted past, the beast’s allure.
You looked so warm, you looked so proud,
acting like you’re royalty.
I saw you trip upon the stair and cry about your wounded knee.
Like you only have so much skin,
you cried about your wounded knee.
There is fingers in everything. You cannot deny...
There’s a fragrance to you, Teddy Bear.
A human hand, a ripened pear.
Your plastic boots that hold no smell,
how they beat against my skin.
I hold you in my aging hand and drop you down into the trash.
Feeling like I should be sad, I drop you down into the trash.
There is fingers in everything.
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4. |
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She said only write poems in the morning or on the train, places where the light is new or weird. In the horizontal haze or the too-bright of the car, places where you find yourself alone – with the ever-present threat of interruption, the swinging doors, the next stop, chimes, and footfalls. Places where the light is new or weird.
Refracted through your window image. Refracted through the greasy forehead spots of those who sat before you – the dread, the chill, the eagerness. These are Lonely Deer’s interruptions. We’ve filled ourselves up with enough instructions. Don’t be afraid of anything. Don’t be afraid to blow kisses into the sky. Futility and madness are endearing here. We will always come back to each other. We will always come back to each other.
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5. |
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You're a really good secret
You've got exposure
You can hang from the rafters
and no one can see your shit
You're a really good secret
You keep it hidden
Like a tomb
Like a lover
You're a really good secret
You've got words that sparkle
and eyes that drizzle
right down to your lips
You're a really good secret
You've got a temperament
Like a bomb
Like a flower
Come now, there's a secret chamber
Come now, there's some dewy grass
Come now, there's everything you wanted
Come now, come now, come now
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