Zinc Pennies
By Shel Plock
01 Nov 2023


Zinc pennies alone are not enough
Zinc pennies alone are not enough
If you want to hit the bottom
And your dress is made of cotton
Zinc pennies alone are not enough

Monday, she was standing by the river
Thinking then of tossing herself in
Skipping stones like kids along the water
Watching all the whiskered catfish swim

Chorus

Wednesday, she was dancing by the water
Laughed and said that she just might fall in
On the bank, she’d gathered stones there in a pile
And now I know I should have pushed them in

Solo

Friday, saw her floating in the water
And I didn’t even bother to jump in
Floating like a stone in the Dead Sea
Facing river bottom, it’s a sin

Chorus

Zinc Pennies

Zinc Pennies Demo Mastered - 11 4 23, 4.47 PM

A track from "Demos from A Country Called Baltimore"

Auntie Clea’s Son
Shelly Blake-Plock, March 2019

11	Uncle Henry was buried in Loudon Park
8	Like all the other infidels
9	Superstitious, following hunches
7	Publishing southern albums
9	Grieving dry glasses, wives, and TB

6	Cigars and fountain pens
6	Portable typewriters
7	Humor column politics
7	Great American Novels
7	He told me there’s evidence
6	In every single line
7	Of a man’s intelligence
10	And his campaign in the war against time

11	Difficult years in that Baltimore City
8	I took to pitching short stories
9	Of schizophrenic waltzing women
7	And alcoholic nuisance

11	Found that the body is a vessel of sorts
8	And when that vessel is empty
9	No one pays a dime to fill it up
7	With sarcasm and pity
9	Heaving my ashes, leaving, see ya’

6	Cigars and fountain pens
6	Irish crystal snifters
7	Readings of The Odyssey
7	Where all the gods are grifters
7	He told me there’s evidence
6	In every single line
7	I believe in deference
10	Between the meaning and the awful rhyme

8	Auntie Clea’s son is broke up
7	And he’s lying on the floor
7	Gravity don’t segregate
6	The drunken from the dead

8	Burned down all the old row houses
7	On the west side of the town
7	By morning all the whisky
6	In his brain turned to lead

4	Brain turned to lead
4	Brain turned to lead
4	Brain turned to lead

11	Maybe we’ll drive up Hollywood Caliphate
8	And maybe we’ll head down to Hell
9	Maybe androgynous poster wives
9	Will provision with pistols and bail
11	Because one night you’re the tumbler of whisky
8	And on the next night you’re the score
9	Nothing you can write really matters
9	If you don’t know what you’re writing for

6	Cigars and fountain pens
6	Evangelist railroads
7	The promised obscurity
7	The timelessness of the smoke
7	My friend said there’s evidence
6	In every liner note
7	All I read is patricide
10	In all the soft refrains that my ghost wrote

Demos from a Country Called Baltimore

Auntie Clea's Son

A track from "Demos from A Country Called Baltimore"

Boastful
Shelly Blake-Plock, March 2019

6	As the opera let out
9	I was scoring the scene of the night
5	One wholesale package
6	Delivered by Bentley
9	To a corner outside the hotel
9	In a half-hour’s time I had hitched
4	Back to the house
8	Where I stashed the product and guns

7	In spite of all of our strides
6	My life is nothing but...
5	But I’m not a rat
7	I am more boastful than that

6	Suicide by trial
9	Don’t think that I don’t know that’s the case
6	Every slug has its tune
9	Every chamber orchestrates the shot
9	If it were me that pulled the trigger
4	On the whistle
8	Would true have been merciful aim

7	In spite of all of our strides
6	My life is nothing but
5	Alimentation
5	But I’m not a rat
7	I am more boastful than that

7	In spite of all of our strides
6	My life is nothing but
5	Alimentation
5	But I’m not a rat
7	I am more boastful than that

Boastful

A track from "Demos from A Country Called Baltimore"

Wax Wings
Shelly Blake-Plock, April 2019

Stomach swollen bombardier
Learning the vocabulary
Humming like an elevator
Falling through the sepiroth

Turn on, tune in
Drop off the kid
Cowboy station, hip-hop
Croaking like a katydid

Dropping from Olympia
Bridging rotten punk rock
Vandalize the bigots
Waking up to prophecy
Every lyric is a fleeting glimpse
But I don't mean nothing
Every set list is a constitution
Puncturing the fallacy

I got a notion that
The ocean is a death trap
I got the notion that
The coast is a ghoul

Wax wings melt off
Wax wings melt off
I got a feeling that
My anger is a centrifuge
I got a feeling that
My death is a trademark
Wax wings melt off

After the investigation
After all the chutzpah
After hagiography
After all the fuss

You get the notion that
Betrays anniversaries
You get the notion that
The bank account is lost

Wax wings melt off
Wax wings melt off
I got a feeling that
There was no escape plan
I got a feeling that
He didn't want to flee
Wax wings melt off

I get the feeling that
Nothing ever seemed right
I get the feeling that
There was never any show
Just a pilot lying in a dust bin
Just a demon saying: "Go, go, go."

I get the feeling that
Nothing ever seemed right
I get the feeling that
There was never any show
Just a pilot lying in a dust bin
Just a demon saying: "Go, go, go."

Wax wings melt off
Wax wings melt off
Wax wings melt off
Wax wings melt off

Wax Wings

A track from "Demos from A Country Called Baltimore"

Yellow Boxes
Shelly Blake-Plock, April 2019

I rang the buzzer on Park Avenue
But I found nobody there
A gentleman wearing an Atomic Books t-shirt
Asked me if I really cared
Asked me if I really care

So I walked down through Mt. Vernon
Looking for yellow boxes and classifieds
One of Barye's beasts chided and admonished me
He said: "Just stare at your phone.
You're lucky to have known."

By the time I got to Baltimore Street
All the pavement had turned to dust and flame

Yellow boxes
Dust and flame

Just stare at your phone
You're lucky to have known
Just stare at your phone
You're lucky to have known
Just stare at your phone
You're lucky to have known
Just stare at your phone
You're lucky to have known

Yellow Boxes

http://shellyblakeplock.com

This is where I stick ideas, collaborations, unfinished or unreleased tracks, and things that don't fit anywhere else.