It wasn’t the end of the world - but I wouldn’t be lying if I said
“It started with an earthquake”
The status bar was at 0.85%
January 4th at 2.39am, 1.6 miles from my bed, as the crow flies
A man came, gently held my shoulders, shook me firmly a few times into wakefulness, and was gone
You’re on record as saying, or at least implying
(Heavily implying)
That 2017 was the Worst. Year. Ever.
(Worst. Year. Ever.)
You kept talking about dying
(You kept talking about dying)
And you’re not a goth, so why would you do that?
Well thanks for asking! I spent my 2017 avoiding talking about anything real
Because everything real was organic and disgusting
I was living in a city gradually being inundated by a shallow puddle of muddy water
As uninviting as as it was drab, as annoying as it was terrifying
As huge as it was un-awe-inspiring
As stupid as it was painful
No. No, it was poison.
And poison was leaching the colour from all the buildings
One by one, each of the buildings was turning the colour of rusty horse bones
Now I’m not stupid, I know horse bones don’t rust - but there it was:
Rusty Horse Bones
(Rusty Horse Bones, Rusty Horse Bones)
I’m tired of thinking about “Rusty Horse Bones”, and writing the words “Rusty Horse Bones”
(Rusty Horse Bones, Rusty Horse Bones)
In my Daily Schedule of Things To See
I’m tired of saying the words “Rusty Horse Bones”
(Rusty Horse Bones, Rusty Horse Bones)
I wanted to tell people about the delicate cloud I saw, or the life passing by my window
(Rusty Horse Bones, Rusty Horse Bones)
And it still existed - so did waves, and sunsets, and domestic parakeets gone wild in the urban parks of the world
(Rusty Horse Bones, Rusty Horse Bones)
So did people, human beings, they existed too - but it didn’t feel right when there were Rusty Horse Bones
(Rusty Horse Bones, Rusty Horse Bones)
Everywhere right in my face
So I didn’t say much in 2017
(Rusty Horse Bones, Rusty Horse Bones)
Which was very out of character and didn’t come naturally
“Rusty Horse Bones” lost its meaning through repetition
Like calling someone a fascist
(Rusty Horse Bones, Rusty Horse Bones)
Eventually its syllables faded, mulched and gave fertile soil
To “Rusty Horse Bones” - the names of a wrestler
The name of a Country and Western Singer
A hipster nose to tail diner
We were fighting a war - some of us thought -
The war on the war on saying the same sentence twice and it having the same approximate meaning
The war on the war on saying the same thing twice and its meaning being roughly the same the second time you said it
And the enemy took “Rusty Horse Bones”
(Rusty Horse Bones, Rusty Horse Bones)
And it became a mascot, a meme
So when they came, they came dressed as Rusty Horse Bones
And it was a Rusty Horse Bones Novelty mask
That protected a dude’s face
(Rusty Horse Bones, Rusty Horse Bones)
From a downpour of rage
If you have a fondness for expertly wrought roots-rock with sharp lyrics and aching vocals, look no further—“Strangers” is for you. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 8, 2022
