We've updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Wolf

by Workman Song

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.
    Purchasable with gift card

      name your price

     

1.
You're bulging and disgusting. Cropped out of my frame. You're counting rings on my woodcut so you can keep track of all my pain. And you wanna call me liar, but you know that's what I am called. And you can't stand to say my name, you look past my eyes into the wall. You've been avoiding me all the weekdays, and now come the day of rest, you've come to tell me something -- well I'm already unimpressed. This day is no longer holy. The ink's faded from the page that called you to be friendly, that condemned your stupid rage. My pain is on a canvas and you took a photograph to chew on in your mouth, to digest and then pass. Well I am not like Jesus, and I am not very kind. I much prefer to push aside undesirables in my life. So with a sharpened blade and with a broken heart, I will command your image to darken and then fade from my art. And there will be no living memory when you are cropped from the frame, for I am etched into a woodcut -- but you are struck from the page.
2.
Shame 06:01
In all I’ve lost, what should I have retained? How am I not much better off this time around? Look at all I’ve done. Look at all that pain! Look at me, o look at everything, o soul of mine. I hear all the voices telling me, “It’ll always be the same.” Crooked ways they push my body through: crooked voices, crooked aim. Shame, shame, shame, tell me your sweet story now and I’ll surely pay the price with my pain, with my pain. Pain, pain, pain, you and my everlasting love are gonna bleed together now, writing my name, writing my name, writing my name. I know you’ve waited so long to walk along the wounded way, to find a secret you can make me stumble on. But I stumble so well, I can make it look like dancing, always leaving things to chance and no one else. Well that’s the dream we’re dreaming in our heads, it’s so dense, and it’s so strange. But that’s the way our bleeding wounds do heal. We’ll come out perfect through the pain. Shame, shame, shame, tell me your sweet story now and I’ll surely pay the price with my pain, with my pain. Pain, pain, pain, you and my everlasting love are gonna bleed together now, writing my name, writing my name, writing my name. O Holy Ghost, I tried to teach you right and wrong. Tried to keep you in a stack of books and lies. But now I see what I now see: see you looking through my eyes at everything, have a look around. Heaven and the stars all tumbled down, learned to die, then I arose. Beauty in a dream that looks like me lives within me — I’m her clothes. Shame, shame, shame, tell me your sweet story now and I’ll surely pay the price with my pain, with my pain. Pain, pain, pain, you and my everlasting love are gonna bleed together now, writing my name, writing my name, writing my name.
3.
Some Bones 05:43
In your heart there is a cemetery filled with graves, filled with memories. Your soul is a cup filled with anxieties, filled with anxieties. Your love is a well. Anyone can drink, anyone can drink. Well some -- some, some they say -- some bones are not yet dry. I know I've seen them walking, so I know that they're still, still alive. Why, o why? In New York there was an ambulance. The sirens wailed a song of circumstance. And a lonesome man listened from within, listened from within. A medic and a friend were the only ones with him, were the only ones with him. Well some -- some, some they say -- some bones are not yet dry. I know I've seen them walking, so I know that they're still, still alive. Why, o why? Into your loneliness, let a lover in. Bare all your sin -- she'll help you carry it. And when you make it to the door, you'll be welcomed in. You'll be welcomed in.
4.
The Way 09:12
Jealous they make me, the sinners and saints. They pray to their gods in their gardens of shame. And worthless the season that bears no good fruit. So truthless, so used, so passed over, nude. Naked on the baked clay of the desert. Chasing pleasures, chasing pain. It's all the same when you can't find your way. No excuses nor pardons, nor saving of face. Beauty is ugliest in the shadows of grace. Naked on the baked clay of the desert. All the trains on their tracks, they're teaching a lesson. Keep your foot off the tracks, let the wheels within wheels go round. Let it take you under the river and across the top of the city. Cross the bridge that God has built out of iron & water. Naked on the baked clay of the desert. So, foolish I follow on Jesus' narrow maze. I'm looking for water to quench my thirst and wash my face, and hoping for a dancer to help me along my way. She'll teach me how to help her without getting in my way. I'm thinking that I'd really like to see her now, naked on the baked clay of the desert. Take all my clothes off! Wash me in the water! Soon will come the wintertime and I'll be on my knees, begging for a blanket or a dream. And while the fall's still warm & crisp I'm dancing in the streets spending all my days on everyone. Lately I've been thinking about Jesus and his cross, the way it seems I'm living with these feelings. Everything so vivid, everything so good. Everything is so fucked up and painful. Bury me in my grave, I know I'm already dead, but I want my pain! I want my pain! Living in the world feels just the same, my spirit's joy is in my pain! I want my pain! That's the way. Who knows what this smile is for? It serves me just the same. Blooms from something beautiful. Now everyone around me is within their little worlds. Everyone within me is around me all the time. And I believe it's perfect 'cause it's so pitiful it's pure -- everyone around me singing "beautiful." Hearing all them singers singing all their songs, their voices light my way and make it simpler. Bury me in my grave, I know I'm already dead, but I want my pain! I want my pain! Living in the world feels just the same, my spirit's joy is in my pain! I want my pain! That's the way.
5.
When my life comes to close, I want you to burn all my clothes. Goodness gracious! Nobody knows where my soul is going at the end of the road. When I finally close my eyes, that's alright, everyone dies. Goodness gracious! Heavens don't cry. No one -- not you, not I -- holds onto their lives. Because life is built to end. You get it while you can. Yes, life ain't made to last. But love is made forever, though life may go fast. When I can no longer hold your hand, all that I ask is that you still stand. O! Goodness gracious! I know that you can. I may not be here, but I'll still be your man. Because life is built to end. You get it while you can. Yes, life ain't made to last. But love is made forever, though life may go fast. When I'm no longer here -- when I'm gone -- and everything just seems so wrong, goodness gracious! Don't you wait too long. I am here, my love, I am here, I am singing this song. Because life is built to end. You get it while you can. Yes, life ain't made to last. But love is made forever, though life may go fast.

credits

released October 20, 2015

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Workman Song Brooklyn, New York

Workman Song is Seán McMahon. A country preacher who cut his teeth on NYC subway platforms & stages, McMahon is known for his “gritty, freewheeling folk...earnest, amber-toned songs exploring the edges of faith” (The Wild Honey Pie) & a live show that's "equal parts Rodriguez (Searching For Sugarman), Bruce, and the Dead…what Dylan would have sounded like on about six tabs of acid" (Baeblemusic). ... more

shows

contact / help

Contact Workman Song

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account

Workman Song recommends:

If you like Workman Song, you may also like: