You know, the Tears For Fears song. Not the one from Donnie Darko.

Image source: 
Phelps Memorial Collection, Rare Books & Special Collections, University of South Carolina Libraries

Mad World

Her:
Cold wind saps all my strength
Three months of darkness, three of light
I'd go to any length
To be with you, to press all your shirts
You keep me quiet, I stay indoors
This is the end of the earth

Both:
Here we are home
Here we are home
Home at the end of the earth

Him:
Cold nights, don't want to be alone
You keep me comp'ny, you keep me sane
You are now bone of my bones
Long days I spend working in the field
Collecting samples, escaping death
I'm still a spoke to your wheel
I'll come back, I promise
I'll come back home to you

Both:
Here we are home
Here we are home
Home at the end of the earth

Him:
Out on the ice my eyes start to fail me
And all I see is white

Her:
My love, turn around, I will pray you home
Won't let you walk out again

Him:
My compass points, my heart's never failed me
I will be back at your side

---

Donckelarii image source:
Enter the Nurserymen, 4: Two Guides for Home Gardeners 
Charles Mcintosh, 1794-1864, 
The Greenhouse, Hothouse, and Stove. New ed. London: William S. Orr, 1840
Phelps Memorial Collection, Rare Books & Special Collections, University of South Carolina Libraries

The End Of The Earth

All the vinyl siding, all the chlorophyll sticking
My red neck in the yellow light, the wasp-nesting roof-blight
The pressure washer moans dumb, my arms are too sickly
The day-saving sundown, the green stain to my shirt white
If you wanna do it right, write this down while it's still bright
The pepper-weed puller's been burning the night light

Drip soot water down the chimneyfluenza
The nightsmoke 'til daybreak, my moon-cratered couchsleep
Swallow cubicle soot to my cowork credenza
A sun-seeking dawn-drawn deliberate drag-heap
I'm in the next room
Keeping watch over nothing
All night

All the sad songs, all the magazine clippings
Are fuel for the nightfire that burns in my chest
The pressure cooker hot throb, my tonguescrews a-slipping
I fumfer a free verse at the freeway's behest
My feculent fog-mind deciding what's best
In dreams I am a monster and awake I'm a mess

---

Image source:
The Greatest of Camellia Books 
Clara Maria Pope, illus., 
"Plate 1: Single White, Single Red, Sasanqua," 
from Samuel Curtis, 1779-1860, A monograph on the genus Camellia. 
London: J. & A. Arch, 1819.
Phelps Memorial Collection, Rare Books & Special Collections, University of South Carolina Libraries

Nightsmoke

Having sought out blemishes in the
Passover lamb, I found none
Having sought out truth in the
Matter of this man, I found none
People have a strange sense of justice, and I
Have a strange sense for death
I've spilled a lot of blood on the ground in my time and never
Found any justice yet

I'm only a judge in a backwater 'cause I
Married the king's granddaughter
Now she's restless, it seems, with a plague of dreams
About a lamb led to the slaughter

Having seen the evidence, I'm still
Fearful of a restless few
They'll have my head and the streets run red if I don't
Do what they ask me to
So if you're gonna do it, go and do it yourself
I wash my hands of this
I find no fault in this man whose brother
Delivered him with a kiss

Well, I keep the peace in this town, but I can't
Keep any peace in my heart
The more I seek the truth and try to wrestle it down, the more I
End at the place where I start

[Recorded with Anna Catharine Brooks, July 2014]

Image source:
A Victorian guide to early camellia imports from the East 
From Jane Loudon, 1807-1858, 
The ladies' flower-garden of ornamental greenhouse plants. 2nd edition. 
London: W. S. Orr, [1849].
Phelps Memorial Collection, Rare Books & Special Collections, University of South Carolina Libraries

Strange Justice

This song is nearly 100 percent true. On Sept. 15, 1896, a man named William George Crush set up a head-on collision between two trains in the middle of Texas and sold tickets for people to come watch.

For a fuller account of what happened that day, I recommend the following link. The section on Jervis C. Deane is of particular interest:

http://www.historynet.com/crushs-locomotive-crash-was-a-monster-smash.htm

Crush, TX

Loud acoustic music from North Charleston, South Carolina, United States of America. We're using this page for rough drafts.

We are: 
Gardner Beson (upright bass, low vocals)
Paul Bowers (guitar, banjo, caterwaul)
Jesse Hildreth (mandolin, trombone)

Camellias