Get all 8 Queen Cabbage releases available on Bandcamp and save 30%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of In This Mist at All Adventures Go, Hide and/or Seek, Pallid Blue Gown, Patches, Mystery, Babylon the Great, The Mother of Harlots and Abominations of the Earth, An Idiot, Full of Sound and Fury, Signifying Nothing, On the Shortness of Life, and On the Shortness of Breath.
1. |
Please (Truth)
04:08
|
|||
If you wore those boots for walking, what are you still doing in bed
Softly humming songs of longing that do you no good stuck in your head?
Stuck in your head, you say, you live that way — it is your greatest shame!
Well, you chose it, Ben. You chose this pain.
What signs should I ignore?
What drugs should I explore?
What gates should I pretend I can’t open?
If you’ve selected scenes for cutting, find the frames now on the floor
Remember every cent it cost you and your crew — there could be more,
But make damn sure you search intently, ‘cause the cameras can’t see
Anything you don’t find first in me.
What signs should I ignore?
What drugs should I explore?
What gates should I pretend I can’t open?
Oh Lord… Oh, Ben…
There are roads you’ll travel nightly
There are some you may never see
Tuck and roll; just try and stop me
But I am truth, and I don’t care what you believe
Oh, I am truth, and I don’t care what you believe
If you bore me proudly since your childhood, you would now be free
But luckily there is no deadline to get to know me
Stuck in your head, you’ll find a shade of red — instead look to the trees
If you choose a color, choose bright green
What signs should I ignore?
What drugs should I explore?
What gates should I pretend I can’t open?
Oh Lord… Oh, Ben…
Oh, Ben…
There are roads you’ll travel nightly
There are some you may never see
Tuck and roll; just try and stop me
But I am truth, and I don’t care what you believe
Oh, I am truth, and I don’t care what you believe
There are songs you’ll sing without me
Many more in the drawer you’ll leave.
Look harder, and you’ll find words pouring from me
I am truth, and I don’t care what notes you sing
I am truth; I never cared what you believed
|
||||
2. |
Lone Red Maple
04:35
|
|||
Late September — conifer cover —
You — lone red maple at its peak —
Burn for two or maybe three more weeks
Is there warmth? Your roots are dormant
Cull all the old forgotten soil
Wait for three or maybe four more months
|
||||
3. |
A Mural Hidden
03:33
|
|||
High-rise grime and licentious time in our bursting grey metropolis,
Like droppings, collect; tourists genuflect to the heights to which they’re striving
Excellent seats, eroding intrigue, effervescent concert-goers
Not plush enough; not strong enough; not curated to their liking
Sweep, sweep, sweep that pigeon dung
From the belfry where real bells once hung
Sweep, sweep sweep that dust away
To reveal the most marvelous shapes
A fresco hidden
A fresco lost
Brooklyn bars of reclaimed wood and not even a cushion for your stool
Like fleas, collect, and rustle Bushwick’s pelt—like lice, keep it ripe and moving
Buy your favorite meat from the artisanal fleet; get a nice big juicy mouthful
Not dead enough? Not safe enough? Not white enough for your liking?
Pity. Pity. Pity.
Sing, sing, sing Freewheelin’ songs
Figure anyone might stop for long?
Sing, sing, sing some top forty
Lordy, then they’ll throw some real cash at me
Mosaics hidden
Mosaics lost
More along those former lines
Than any lines of mine you’ll find,
Brake for show, not honesty,
What else would get me rent money?
A mural hidden
A mural lost
|
||||
4. |
I Want It
02:04
|
|||
I want it
I got it
I need it
I hate it
I'm off it
|
||||
5. |
Coroner, Discard
05:07
|
|||
Bottles fill the side table
Roaches ‘round the bed
Most went out, but some burn still
Incense for the dead
God knows where his head is now
Tumbling through the void
Charging us money to watch him flail and shout
Then wondering why there’s so much noise
Pity this went on so long
Rotting in his shell
Now that he’s as good as gone
He can have his drugs in hell
No stories left to sell
Forgo the embalming; lay him down
Pay no mind to where or even how
Bash his head in so he stops those moaning sounds
Just find a way to put him in the ground
Just find a way to keep him in the ground
|
||||
6. |
Rinse (Patience)
03:19
|
|||
Seek shelter
Water
Penitence
Patience
Bleed a frost-white
Eremite
Rivers rinse
Patience
Wander! Wander! Wander!
It’s all the same; your eyes won’t change!
Wonder! Wonder! Wonder!
If it’s shame. Could it be shame?
Spill it! Spill it! Spill it!
Water clear, oh, water clear
Charge it! Charge it! Charge it!
Proton clouds, electron hounds
Could it be the sound
From gullies deep
That makes us howl
And fight for sleep?
Coral earrings
Steering
Rivers rinse
Patience
|
||||
7. |
Darling, it's So Late
03:30
|
|||
My eyes are near closed; darling, it’s so late
Come to your pillow; hold me the old way
Hum me your head song; drift into new days
Come to your pillow; darling, it’s so late
I’m brushing my teeth, love. I’ll be just a moment
Sooner than it seems, love, I’ll find you here dozing
Hum you my head song; drift into new days
Come to my pillow; my, my — it’s so late
Darling, it’s so late
|
||||
8. |
Clementine
06:08
|
|||
I opened a clementine
Popped the button off the top
Inhaled as the oil diffused through the air to my nostrils
Slowly peeled my clementine
In strips about the width of my thumb
I pulled a delicate pull so as not to disturb the sections
I separated the sections
With care to maintain the integrity of each
One of them snapped at the corner — whatever — I’ll eat it first
Each of the nine remaining is intact
That’s ok, right? I hid the broken one from them
They didn’t see it snap or smash between my teeth
They didn’t see it die; they won’t mind if I lift them each
One by one
To their demise
They don’t have eyes
They don’t have minds
Though I can’t stop wondering if they might
|
||||
9. |
Fair (Well)
05:46
|
|||
I wish you well
I really do
It may sound like I’m being sarcastic as hell, but it’s true
I need to go
I’ve stayed too long
Thanks for the drugs, the laughs, and the fake ass songs
Sleep well
Live and breathe well
Because nothing I have to say is of value to you
I will not supplicate and weep like some vacuous tool
Instead, I will pick up my things and leave the room
Address what ails my soul, but not for you
Not for you
I wish you well
I really do
It sounds like hypocrisy, yes, ‘cause it is, but it’s true
We are here
It is now
It’s all I can do to make only a loving sound
Farewell
Play and sing well
Because nothing I have to say is of value to you
I will not supplicate and weep like some vacuous tool
Instead, I will hang up my socks and my sweaty costume
Speak only where I am wanted and say only what’s true
But not to you
I sang in a children’s choir
I stuck to the treble staff
I whimpered and stomped and I got what I wanted
But never did learn to give back
I sang in a chamber choir
It echoed and I felt safe
I went home and sang to my favorite caged bird
Giggled and drooled like a nutcase
My African Grey sang back
In English inflected like mine
I went to the cupboard and never to bed
Blacked out and passed out of line
I don’t need a children’s choir
To help me sing songs about fear
I’ve felt it and caused it, and now I am tired
I don’t really know why I’m still here
I don’t really know why I’m still here
I don’t really know why I’m still here
Farewell
Sleep well
|
||||
10. |
Make a List, Kid
04:33
|
|||
I promise I am of sound mind
Though I don’t behave like it sometimes
You said I am of sound heart
That’s one of you now; one’s a start
I may have dry and scaly hands
From scrubbing them clean whenever I can
I know I should build immunity
But I like to burn the germs off of me
Off of me…
I don’t want to kill the microbes, but I do it
Hopefully most slide safely down the spout
I want my mind to stay in line and muscle through it
But that’s easier written down than carried out
I promise I have no fever
Body runs hot this time of year
Maybe it’s that strong immunity
Not sure who I’m fooling… certainly not me
No, not me…
I don’t want to fry my brain, but I still do it
When I wish to whisper, usually I’ll shout
I want my mind to stay in line and muscle through it
But that’s easier written down than carried out
But that’s easier written down than carried out
Make a list, kid.
Handle business.
Handle business.
I may not want to face my flaws, but it’s time to do it
Dig ‘em up, put ‘em in a row; never stop to pout
I need my mind to stay in line and get me through it
But that’s easier written down than carried out
Always easier written down than carried out
One by one, I gotta work these fuckers out
|
||||
11. |
March (Dark)
03:24
|
|||
Stepping on stones
Seems a little cold for my liking
Dirt between toes
Helps my sore soles to tread lightly
Heat from the mantle
Winter stole straight from the air
Scarce hits my foot before
Dew steals it back — only fair
Only fair that the wind bites my skin
Only fair that the clouds wear me thin
Only fair that the dew traps the heat
So the dirt can make sure we will eat
Cabinets still full
Seasonings, cookware, and dry goods
Lace in the window
Vegetables stored up like firewood
Mushrooms from autumn
Peas, greens, and herbs from the springtime
Shocked through with cold air, or
Left in the sun — only fair
Only fair we freeze half of our stock
Only fair it cooks up slightly off
Only fair it tastes slightly of must
Earth wears thin in the dark just like us
March feels like 6 A.M.
April like 8 - pillow on my face
May like 9 if I’ve slept
June the first cup or three of hot coffee
Rest so July is a weekend
So that August can fill you with heat
So you’ll know that September brings mushrooms
The dirt will make sure we can eat
In March we pick peas and plant carrots for summer
If always the excess we freeze
The dirt will make sure we can eat
|
||||
12. |
Hide
17:45
|
|||
"The Clouded Morning"
The morning comes, and thickening clouds prevail,
Hanging like curtains all the horizon round,
Or overhead in heavy stillness sail;
So still is day, it seems like night profound;
Scarce by the city’s din the air is stirred,
And dull and deadened comes its every sound;
The cock’s shrill, piercing voice subdued is heard,
By the thick folds of muffling vapors drowned.
Dissolved in mists the hills and trees appear,
Their outlines lost and blended with the sky;
And well-known objects, that to all are near,
No longer seem familiar to the eye,
But with fantastic forms they mock the sight,
As when we grope amid the gloom of night.
Jones Very (1813-1880)
|
||||
13. |
Seek
22:18
|
Queen Cabbage New York, New York
Originating in late 2017 at SUNY Purchase, Queen Cabbage is a folky art rock band dedicated to synthesizing silliness, seriousness, life, death, the beautiful, and the grotesque into earnest, powerful, emotionally immediate music for eager feet to dance and stumble to, for thoughtful hearts to beat and break to, and—most importantly—for authority figures to disapprove of. Queens ~~ Welcome! ... more
Streaming and Download help
If you like Queen Cabbage, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp