Track #14 of "52 More Weeks of Winter"

Oh man, the light
Split the sky and
There was daylight all night

Alien fathers barfing out craft beer
Living the eternal good life
Everybody's their own captain
Everybody's their own good wife

Kids sailing out to sea in
Golden playhouses floating
I'm just running through your vodka jungle

Here comes Depression Boy
Let's see what's behind door number two
He's taking his time with his mistakes
Gonna smash everything that he can break

Oh man, the light!
Oh man, the light!
Oh man, the light!

52 More Weeks of Winter

Oh Man, The Light

I'm A Raincloud mp3

Let Me Count the Ways

She comes crying in the morning
Lays down next to me
Tells me she's afraid that the walls are closing in
Look at the mess we're in

He lives above the secretary
Yeah, I know he eats it, too
When the village all passed him by
How his spirit was so confused

He was picking off that first layer
Like that first time you met me
Like I was dancing with a spider
When the walls come down
I'm still gonna climb up another day just to meet you
Another day to greet you

Let's be neatly insane and
Come and go without plans
On a day without rain
When we're closed for repairs but

I didn't come back for this
Decomposing valley in your veins and
A view with you no longer there

How can I compare thee to anything else on earth?
You were so ghostly white
As white as a can of Miller Lite

Secretary of Onions

My 5 year old daughter said she had to write a song the other day when we were on our way home and this is what she wrote.

Snowflake

Snowflake (by Stella Woosley)

Definitive rows and the crackhead boyfriend reign high for a moment and
We drive to the drive-in
In the pouring rain

Thoughts stolen from the lonely theaters and the driving range
Where everything is orange in the morning
Everything is orange and strange

Horrific treasures lie of course
What are you gonna buy to replace us after the divorce?
I guess we were lovers for a moment
When a nation was dying and
The painters' hearts were smiling

Oh, I know you never wanted this lonely life
You old filthy bastard
It all comes back to me like an island
Where we were dreaming this dream
Where we could pay for this
Had no idea how much that it would cost
Fixated on human loss

Definitive roads and the crackhead boyfriend reign high for a moment and
We drive to the drive-in
In the pouring rain
Where everything is orange and strange

Orange and Strange

Off to sea
The other side of me
Punching waves black and white
With all of my might

The new newness
Feels so far away
The classrooms and the dull gray skies
The sleepy bore of the old school days and
Time that never flies

She's from the city
Beyond the typical lights
Not the half-go color
Not a model employee
Not lightning hitting the tower

Sometimes she just wants to put her head right through a brick wall
To let you know where she's coming from
To let you know she's heading for a fall

She's from the city
Beyond the typical lights
Not the half-go color

Not a model employee or
Lightning speaking from the fire or
Lightning sparking from the tower or
Lightning speaking like the devil

Not Lightning Speaking Like The Devil

Preview track from the forthcoming Woosley Band LP/CD release, "I Hope That You Find Love" with Lydia Loveless, Todd May and Tim Perdue.  Official release show is Columbus Ohio at Rumba Cafe with special guests Happy Chichester and Megan Palmer.  The band will have CDs and LPs available at shows and at Bandcamp.  Check it out on Spotify, YouTube and more.

Nobody Makes It Alone

A demo of a Halloween song I recently wrote that I recorded with Fritz at his place following an evening with him in Pittsburgh, before heading to Philadelphia to play a show at The Rusty Nail.

The Other Side of the Graveyard

First song off of Woosley Band's brand new release.

I Hope That You Find Love

Silverliner

Drifting servants and
The analytical outcasts
Virtually join me in the basement for a
Mystic mama breakfast

Mystic mama breakfast
Mystic mama breakfast
Why don't you meet me in the basement for 
Sunday morning mystic mama breakfast

There were futurists who told me
(in the 1970s)
There would be days like this
(and I read all that shit, too)
So, some days feel familiar and
Other days feel just like a test

Drifting remnants in the alley way
Analytical outcasts
Virtually join me in the basement for
Mystic mama breakfast

Mystic mama breakfast
You know I'm feeling no pain
I know that everything's not alright
By the look on your face

Everyone says they have so much time, now
You only got so much left
Get busy living or
Get busy dying
On our mystic mama breakfast

Mystic Mama Breakfast

Kilgore Trout of the songwriting underworld uploads 365 lo-fi rock songs from a bunker in the burbs.

This track is not available anymore.

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