Lamb

by Workman Song

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about

A collection of musical stories, hymns, and lyrical parables recorded at the Hangar, a massive DIY barn studio in what I am only permitted to refer to as "The Ice Cream Forest," located in rural New Jersey near Asbury Park.

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released April 20, 2014

All songs written by and (c) Sean McMahon/Workman Song, 2013-2014. All rights reserved. Recorded at The Hangar, NJ. Mastered by Jordan Richter at The Richtery, Brooklyn, NY. Artwork by Sean McMahon & Sara Sremac.
Sean McMahon: vocals, guitars, bass, organs, bells, toy piano, drums, co-production
Kevin Grossman: engineering, co-production, bells, drums, percussion
Moses Eder: percussion
Brandon Lopez: upright bass
Dave Gibson: drums, percussion
Cody McCorry: bowed contrabass
Gabriel Birnbaum: saxophone, keyboards, arrangement & co-production*
Joe Gullace, trumpet

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Workman Song Northampton, Massachusetts

“...equal parts Rodriguez (Searching For Sugarman), Bruce, and the Dead...what Dylan would have sounded like on about six tabs of acid.” - Baeblemusic

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Track Name: The Adversary and The Friend
If I blind my eyes to my love, I cannot protect you with my hate. Maybe you are the Adversary and The Friend. And if I am at war with myself, and I am trampling down each border between us — well in that case, I may become extinct like a dead nation. And so, you would then conquer yourself. And when our flag is billowing over nobody — when that day comes, I won’t know where to begin. Maybe you are the Adversary and The Friend.
Track Name: Varmit
I’ll cut your throat if you’ll squeeze mine. I’ll shake your hand. Butterflies will fly out from our union, and they’ll see what we have shown. I ain’t asking about violations or how to stop. I’m bored to death, but now I’m not. So go refresh your mind on your broken soul. This country lane is stretched and older than the execution that removed your head. We ain’t on no diamond rainbow road, it’s just crust and mold that makes you think and do as told. But you’re so well-prepared that your destitute of all the words that could help the truth to blossom out from within you. We’d do anything to be near you! But you can’t see what you’re being shown. Yea, you’re just some asshole’s food, and you’re out of the loop with the shape of the droop of your own head swooping down. And you’re out of your mind because it’s running on time, and the fuel’s eaten up and there’s a clog in the line. So you tap the glass on your broken watch, and hope that what you are is all that you are — and it may not be enough, but it could keep the vomit down. Yea, the going could get rough, but you can’t keep this damn varmit down. I’ll cut your throat if you’ll squeeze mine. I’ll shake your hand. Butterflies will fly out from our union, and they’ll see what we have shown.
Track Name: Jesse Winters
Jesse Winters found himself alone at 12 o’clock. It occurred to him slowly that loneliness is a path he’d rather not walk. “Poor, poor Jesse,” he told himself, “he’s on his hands and knees! He’s got no pride!” Preparing a letter addressed to the friends and the foes that he happened to have known, he scrawled in ink what was torn in his heart: his tormented feelings and his woes. “Poor, poor Jesse,” he told himself, “He’s on his hands and knees! He’s got no pride! Ah!” He picked up a rifle, then he stuffed an envelope with his letter to world, and tied his boots with the laces that he once used to hang himself, but broke. “Poor, poor Jesse,” he told himself as he loaded up his ammunition. He dropped his letter then he started shooting at the sky in the city square. And as they dragged him away, he told them about the letter — to read it out loud at the fair. It said: “My name’s Jesse. I’m angry at God, I ain’t ashamed to say. And so at noon, I’m gonna shoot Him down from his throne in the sky in the middle of the day. And when He falls down from the earth, my friends, we’re gonna have a trial — for each and every tragedy and genocide and every single problem He has made. I’m hoping He’ll apologize. Do you think He’ll apologize? I don’t know. But I hope so. — Jesse Winters.”
Track Name: Eden
If indeed you are listening, why don’t you raise your hand? Show me what you’re feeling. Show me how you feel. I’m drowning in this country trying to get to the Promised Land. For I am offering water as we stand on this scorching sand. And I wanna find my brothers, and gather all my sisters. For we were dead on arrival, awaiting a calling voice or a hand. Well, if you would be the living, then you would let go your life. And listen to its voice. Pass along its song. I ain’t alone in this aching darkness. I’m staying warm in your light. If indeed you are listening, why don’t you raise your hand? Show me what you’re feeling. Show me how you feel. I’m drowning in this country trying to get to the Promised Land. I am waiting in a station for the train to take me home. And my friends, you’re all beside me. And I want to take you with me. The engine’s getting louder, so it must be time for us to go. So let us head home back to Eden. Forward is the way. And if we carry all the wounded, and stay pure as little children, then we will get through this night of darkness and be home by the break of day.
Track Name: No, It's Not
I spilled my colors onto the floor like a newborn babe unto the earth. I thought that it was righteous, but no, it’s not. I watched your fingers dancing on my guitar. I watched the empires rise and fall. I watched as daggers rained down from the clouds. I watched your fingers dancing on my guitar. I spilled my colors onto the floor like a newborn babe unto the earth. I thought that it was righteous, but no, it’s not. I gave you apples from our old tree. I gave you wisdom under the sun. I gave you something that we could not see. I gave you You, and to me, you gave Me. I spilled my colors onto the floor like a newborn babe unto the earth. I thought that it was righteous, but no, it’s not. I laughed at my footprints swimming away. I laughed at preachers with nothing to say. I laughed with all the dead men ’til they were all out of breath. I laughed at my body for being made of flesh. I spilled my colors onto the floor like a newborn babe unto the earth. I thought that it was righteous, but no, it’s not. And I thought that a dream was never coming true. And I thought it was strange that Me, instead, is You. I thought that oceans only waved when I looked their way. And I thought that Jesus Christ was dead, but I touched His wounds and I saw His face. I spilled my colors onto the floor like a newborn babe unto the earth. I thought that it was righteous, but no, it’s not.
Track Name: Patient Like A Lamb
I will sing of all the things I wish I could see in the world: a real idea, something new that hasn’t been done before; a brotherhood staked on the hearts of the people’s goodness; a spiritual force that don’t need no rules to make it worthless and dead. An isle redeemed, stable and free. Patient like a lamb. I will sing of all the things I wish I could see in the world: a new idea, a way of being that ain’t misunderstood; a faithful heart that need not be given, or taken, or taught, or unlearned; a candlelight at night that never darkens and always burns. And I think that I’ve seen such things in my dreams. So it must not be too far. So I’ll be patient like a lamb.