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ill fly away

by Lebo Jenkins

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Burnt Paw
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Burnt Paw One of the very best! Go for a hike with this album & you'll never return. Favorite track: Perennial Nettle.
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1.
Opry of Mine 06:36
OPRY OF MINE has the novelty of my voice lost its shine•my throat’s been weathered splintered patina'd in time•my banjo left the contra floor in a haze what seems long ago•now no one can dance to me play too fast sing sad and slow•i went for a walk with a stream had a talk of its ways•said his current’s a hearse hoards of limbs he's dispersed in the rage•if you walk along these shores to where my cold water comes to a pool•you'll meet a miller turned mortician to clean up my mess what a fool dig a hole in the meadow is what the old miller said• or a sister’s corpse lies on my ole mill pond’s shore and she could surely use a bed•after i dug a hole more•i could not resist as if omie wise lorie foster pretty polly they all felt my kiss•my audience has parted no worries make a new one of old•a guest is a guest whether their blood runs hot or sits cold my words drunk and slurred thankful the dead could care less for the bold•my gusto is lacking yet the seats filled the tickets all sold•once i was a little birdie in your window now if benson crocket were to catch me•i'd be going down that long lonesome road•tom dooley on the hillside, he hid her clothes and shoes•but me the only reason that i kill is to share this old rubrics cube of blues•this opry i've made from these headstones and graves i will play•but these songs that i sing nor the joy that they bring never stays just a boy in a line a•broken wind chime of disarray•on this marble i'll sit and fingerpick ‘til they catch me in the day•well i sit when i serenade cause you know i don't stand and you won't tap your feet and you won't clap your hands•you'll go weak at the knees when i sing to deceased•and then you'll wonder why it is that you’re listening to me
2.
SWEET PINE SAP if you look as far as where the soil meets your feet misfits of variety you just might find•a pygmy pipe from the high country hanging in the piedmont ‘neath them long needle pines•feeling out of place if not for comfort of the rhododendron and the mountain laurel•whose decaying matter preserves the iridescence making a warm bed for this parasitic floral•sit in the silence of someone else accept their chaos as a harmony to oneself move with intention as you travel•take note of crystals they're mixed in with the gravel a georgia weilii showed me his blue in the hills on one sunny afternoon•i asked him the integrity of intimate interactions he said with some patience he could show me through we spoke of others and their drunken conversations fueled by cups full to the brim•we can sit and scorn all that we want but our own judgment’s simply our own sin•gaze upon the silence that lies within•recognize where your clarity it begins•let the vision be one of your own for sheep they only follow what they've been shown
3.
DAHLONEGA WARBLER hello hello mocking bird you and i are not the same sing my song so well you do but what does that mean to you•do you listen to my words or is it of you to repeat them•you are bird and i am man your claw can't form my hand•mother bird said to her fledgling before you leave lend me your ear you are perfect in your darkness other’s judgment do not fear•her finger grace the fake ivory softly touching every key•a dance done with her eyes closed tight these notes she'd sung a million time her poise position in the light sends shivers raging up my spine•i've compared my music now i'm hexed how am i supposed to sing next•warbler heard the thrashers call if birds could cry then tears would fall he sobbed so quiet to himself if only i could sing that well•he went on home took his work boots off same ones that he'd worn on stage i guess my songs are for the birds this chapters short i’ma turn the page•then he heard it shine a voice unique vibrations not of choice but in the flats and sharps it sung a painting on the wall was hung•warbler heard the grackles screech a haunting sermon to be preached a new respect a lesson taught this stoic sound could not be bought•feelings sceneries thoughts one could think form scribbles scrawls and walls of ink•pulling words from roots and leaves burls barks blooms browns and greens•a gust of wind a horses hair what's been traveled what's over there all these moments claimed and captured self-acceptance brought forth the rapture•warbler sang a brand new piece he composed it high above the trees•a ballad for the sanguine soul so buoyant blissful brilliant bold
4.
WITCHING WELL spent many a’night alone in this well•treading black water ‘neath my own evil spell•the walls is so close and tall waters so deep•sirens have done sent my ships off to sea•barely breath in this water i can’t stand it's where i lost what it means to be a man•well it's woe me•and it's woe my never let a moment pass you on by•there once was a boy•who lived on jones avenue•he was a lonely old soul•who everyone claimed they knew•well he forgot how to talk and he didn't think they'd write•then came to the conclusion out of mind out of sight•so he moved to a village in the mountains up high•said there’s no better place to watch that ol'coo coo bird fly•but he still felt all alone so he climbed in the town’s well•if you send down your bucket he'll fill up your pail•well he thought when he died that his body it would rot•and the townsfolk would taste death of a boy they forgot•but his body was pickled his soul trapped eternally•when drank by the people it ensued a drunken spree•witch’s wombs impregnated thus demons were born•there's ergot on the rye like the prophecies forewarned•for when one man cuts his own wrist his blood bleeds onto his brother•sorrow is a sickness infectious to another
5.
GOLD TEETH IN MIND well my mule oh yes it's true he's got gold teeth they're shiny and new he's a fat mouth ol' pimp and i still trust that mule more than you•when i came to georgia i rode my mule, my clothes in a matchbox•i's a rattle snaking’ daddy rabid coyote looking for a fox•well i met me a woman who had earned my old mule’s trust•she's a gold toothed mamma that the rain just could never rust•i courted her in unwed sin•well she said that she'd been with uglier men•i said honey you don't even know where my ugly begins•was in the night she cried wake up men seek revenge at your do•i'ma murder them green horns honey sit back and enjoy the show•i cried oh willy them men aim well•i's too late she done made one bleed•next thing i saw's silver bullets knocking out pretty gold teeth•well she crawled into my arms where she writhed in a dance of death and pain•it's for that reason them men was tortured in her name•well it's on to dayton on to dayton tennessee•worst thing about it is the women there's too broke for gold teeth•trouble in mind oh yes i'm blue but i won't be blue always•gonna carry willy's gold teeth in my back pocket ‘til i reach my cold grave
6.
REFORMATION HYMN well they’re gonna shave my head•stand me in line•feed on cornbread while i serve a little time•oh yes it's true•i done brought my father to tears•i done lost a couple years•from going way on down the road•these boys and i•pretend not to cry•we just hang our heads between our knees and wish to die•oh yes it's true•i used to contemplate some death•wished ol’ satan took my breath• thought i had a place in hell•gots a brother sister•back home•and both of them is wondering why i'm gone•oh yes it's true•they know i done somebody wrong•to be gone for so damn long•they shouldn't have to be so strong•ignorance soaked•into my heart diseased•now there's a mace and chain•hanging from orange county sleevesoh yes it's true•i used to manifest some hate•broken bones on pearly gates•thought stealing teeth would compensate•for my self pity•my pathetic grief•had a prayer for burial•for at night i could not sleep•oh yes it's true•i used to mourn for myself•i didn't know the truth of wealth•there was a darkness in my health• got no letters•thought no one cared•but my mother wrote me•saying please do not be scared•oh yes its true•i love you matter what you've done•my wild brown eyed son•i know in time you'll overcome•i was littered with sin•they let me out the pen and i find my way back in•that's where i met me some men•with no regards to life•gonna sit within these walls ‘til they wither up and die•i can't sing this old hymn for long•only enough breath for one reformation song•these cold metal cots are gonna rust with my nighttime sweat•pushing my chest from hopeless grounds ‘til i got nothing left•falsely filled a void upon my return•these comrades so weak in the flames they burn •with release realized synthetic relations•return to the forest organic fixation•take me from these bars•cover me in your leaveswrap me in your ivy and leach out my disease
7.
PERENNIAL NETTLE "the stinging nettle only will still be found to stand the numberless the lonely the thronged of the land the one that hurts the hand that thrives come sun come showers blow east blow west it springs it peoples towns and towers above the courts of kings and touch it and it stings" -Alfred Edward Housman cold dark winter won't you leave my sweet flower alone i don't know where you come from but this is no longer your home•take your frost when you vacate•remove it from her sweet petals•i want to wrap myself bath sleep in her stinging nettles•wither her leaves with your solstice•so dry not even a tear•perennial blooms back from the earth•year after year after year•frost it will melt with the sun•this flower will persevere•staying with me•burning my flesh•shattering all of my fears burn me

about

Recorded the string and vocals live in my bedroom over a week. Then had everyone else over for a rather trippy day and recorded the rest in a session. Thanks everyone for the help and a cosmic time. It’s ill fly away not I’ll

credits

released September 23, 2016

Pappa Bare- harmonies, saw, and cello
Moses Nesh- guitar
MIkola Derzhay- keyboard
Rattler Snake- harmonies, poetry reading
Hubert Couch- synthesizer
Cheech- art coordinator

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about

Lebo Jenkins Marshall, North Carolina

performs alien appalachian,
old time tunes, and american primitive compositions on banjo and scordatura guitar along with other instrumentation and noise collectives. Word singing too.

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