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Dead Birds

by Hunter Hicks

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1.
Dead Birds 03:23
A man can miss, the sounds of a sawmill The sweltering heat and the saddest of songs The bitter winds, that blow through December And bad days that came, but didn't stay for too long A cherry pit, lay waste in the ash tray a smoke stomped out on your mother's clean floor Dig deep enough and you'll come out with something But I'm turning around, 'cause I'm tired and I'm sore For the birds I killed, when I was just a boy With no consequence with such joy I had no Idea, how hard it is To find something that's worth a shit Alleys and sidewalks, the rivers and the stars They never do feel like what I left behind Like lovers of past, that can't look in your eye A place I remember but never will find For the birds I killed, when I was just a boy With no consequence with such joy I had no Idea, how hard it is To find something that's worth a shit To find something that's worth a shit
2.
I wish I lived in a house like the one across the street 'cause the grass is always cut and the windows are always clean I'd wash my clothes ones a week, do all the dishes in the sink I'd kill the time until I had no time to think I wanna go to church on Sunday, without a question on my mind Turn on the news and find a man to get behind I'd clear the desk and pull the blinds and know right where to draw that line And tell trouble, "come back some other time" I'm gonna get me a house like the one they got next door Where I'd wake up in the morning and wouldn't have to know what for And ma and pa could come to town, I'd show them a look around I wouldn't worry about what was hiding in my drawer Tonight I'll be in bed, well before nine I'll be up in the morning before the light I'll quit smoking cigarettes and start eating right And by the time that I've got it, all right I'll bet I wished I Lived in a house like the one they got next door, Where the kids got so much time and they got so much to live for My better days they've come and gone and I just mow the goddamn lawn I've got the keys, but don't drive anymore
3.
Hound 03:48
Honey don't you cry For the spring Know it's been a while since we Heard the birds sing But when that summer sun Is on your skin You'll be begging For an autumn wind to come And cool you down Bury your childhood Hound It was always inconvenient When he wanted to hang around Your mother You know she'll grieve And the days just pass By it seems But you just couldn't wait to turn sixteen Now every morning Looks the same The coffee pours to hot Find something to do while I wait 'Til I'm running late 'Til I'm running late Leaves of every stain Have points to make Yellow cry of hard times Green boast of summer days And the ones to tired to talk Turn brown Fall slowly without a sound But oh how it feels, to be lying on the ground Now every morning Looks the same The coffee pours to hot Find something to do while I wait 'Til I'm running late 'Til I'm running late
4.
I'd rather, come down in a million pieces Than land, in Hell gracefully When the sky starts falling and the world comes to and end It won't have a thing to do with me It won't have a thing to do with me So show me to the place, we send of the wind Let it blow me into any old town 'Cause I can work for nothing just about anywhere Find a gang of tired friends to keep around Find a gang of tired friends to keep around I promise I won't ask for anything else Well honey I'm afraid to carry more Been looking for a place to free up my hands Hold nothing, but the key to every door Hold nothing, but the key to every door So I flew on out to the big city With nothing to which that I was bound But honey I can hardly share a room with my self and I'm wishing that I had you around I'm wishing that I had you around To find me here so far from home To find just what I can't afford to lose All that I've got without you here Is these, these old familiar blues I brought along these old familiar blues
5.
Wet Paint 03:57
Hey now darling Look what you did Look at what you threw away When you married a man That kicks the dog to hard And ruins the waitress's day Just like Your mother before And a man just like him raised you So it weren't no surprise The very first time That he got rough on you So your'e sticking around To figure things out Lord knows people change But you'll still hope for more Than the grocery store and sopping up wet paint We used to work Just for extra cash And love, 'cause it felt right Could leave any day But we chose to stay And we didn't have to try So how in the world Did we get here Where did we go wrong? 'Cause this all feels like work And the days move so fastA And the years, they looks so long You had no clue when you said I do and took on his last name You'd be seeing more Of the grocery store And sopping up wet paint
6.
Smoke fills the air, over a long dirty floor Don't have much reason to clean up around here anymore 'Cause the kids are all grown up now, and their ma left long ago Now it's just me on the couch in that warm TV glow But I've seen all these shows before, and the news is just the same Same old problems with someone else to catch the blame But I couldn't turn that t.v. off, not even for the day 'Cause with all that peace and quiet, I just don't know what I'd say Until one day I was laying back, watching the cigarette smoke rise When I heard in my ear, the buzzing of a fly So I sat up real quick and I looked for a magazine But that old holy bible, was the closest thing I'd seen So I picked up my remote, and I turned that t.v. off When somewhere in the distance, I hear a hum of wing real soft So I took each step real slow, direct with every move Until the little buzzing wings were the loudest thing in the room And there against the window, he sat real still And I pulled that old book back, and made in for the kill When I crashed into the window, and his guts smeared on the pane And the smoke and dust was clear, it was only I that remain Then the room got real quiet again, and then came to me a thought What's a man got left to do, when there's no more flies to swat?

about

Six original songs recorded at Keaton Elsasser's house in Laramie, Wyoming, during the winter of 18/19.

credits

released June 10, 2019

All songs written and performed by Hunter Hicks
Bass: Shawn Hess
Violin: Ellie Berry
Recorded by Keaton Elsasser
Mastered by Will Flagg
Artwork by Trais Barhaug

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Hunter Hicks Laramie, Wyoming

Hunter Hicks, raised in the state of Wyoming and currently based out of New Orleans, performs original songs meant to blend into the great American songbook. An ode to the tradition of songwriting, reminiscing the craft of everything from Lightning Hopkins to Hank Williams, Hicks sees American folk music as a tradition that can survive the modern world. ... more

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