The House, The Car, The Bar, this could be blasted anywhere!

Give a rosy-cheeked sermon, you precocious little vermin you
Try not to notice the moon
Take your precious disturbance, the stars are unnerving you
The tragedy is always over far too soon

So sing, Pierrot, just sing me a song for a while

The magic has deserted you for another perverted youth
Unjust desserts served just for you
The silence is so cunning and there's no exile without running
And thoughts are fleeting fancies for dreaming dandies

So sing, Pierrot, just sing me a song for a while

Sing, Pierrot, Sing

Choosing a road of simple bar band “access” to co-exist with Jail Weddings “excess,” Gabriel Hart (Jail Weddings, Dante Vs. Zombies, The Starvations) quietly started The Fourth Wall last year – not as a result of any kind of existential crisis or slowing down of Jail Weddings – but to simply make songs exist that he knew would never see the light of day in the midst of the time consuming arrangements, touring and rigid blueprint of his regular group. “I have too many songs that keep me up at night and I literally had to start another studio band just to sleep, even though I barely have time for this one either,” he says. What we get is a varietal blend with the expected sardonically sentimental thread of Hart’s 18 year career – from the Rowland S. Howard swamp-rinsed brutality of “Suffer Somehow,” the sad-sack country twang of “Steer The Ship, to the drunk, driving surreality of “Our Accident,” and gallons more he continues to vomit out while Jail Weddings continue to tour/record/workhorse. 
Gabriel Hart and The Fourth Wall is a studio project comprised of longtime collaborators Ian Harrower (Starvations, Red Roses) on drums, Dante Aliano-White (Dante Vs. Zombies, Starlite Desperation) on bass, and newcomer Omar Nambo on 2nd guitar.

Gabriel Hart and The Fourth Wall - "Death Country"

I woke up this morning pissed off at the world again
the drugs don't work no more imma see if murder can
first things first pit stop at the liquor store
before i pick off people like birds on a sycamore
load up on some more cigarettes and popov
before the shit pops off pop the top off
feel the burn as the liquor flows down my esophagus 
got the smell of ethanol all up in my piss
but this here's the last time ain't doing it no more
hung a vacated sign on my fucking front door
empty all my bank accounts head down to the gun store
ain't shave for days with a face like dumbledore 
i ain't a violent man but when I'm drinking i think i am
morals going down like the titanic sinking and
if i can't get mind no one does
alcoholic shoguns out for blood

life is Target practice shoot the motherfucker up
kiss the world goodbye tell your lips to pucker up
if my time is up than so is yours
they shoulda coat hangered me and yelled abort
sucker punch Death, pull the pin, duck and cover
arrange to see a gravedigger, dig you motherfucker
six feet under, under raps like cold cases
the rain and the thunder coming down like shell casings

Yo Slim, who's my daddy? I think it might be you
that's why I'm eating M&M's and popping pills too
because the old man who raised me betrayed me for those white lines
like father like son, see, i'm sucking down cheap wine
whine, hater, whine, like
"Why is you so irate?"
OC Jail, bitch, where did you matriculate?
locked up for the junk that I had in my pocket
splattered my lawyer's brains on the docket
guilty guilty mother fucker might be
just playing it's certain now pull the fucking curtain
but I played the system like the system played me
now say I'm privileged again, you fucking honky
if my life were a play it would be Elizabethan
tragic in all the beatdowns it was dealin'
but now I'm growed up and sewed up so it's all fine and dandy
spittin' lines like a fucking diabetic eatin' candy

Homicide, Instability, Etc.

Walking On Sunshine

Hip To Be Square

Sussudio

(Everybody Wants That) Bad Guy Shit

The Kids Ain't Alright

Pre-mix/Unmastered track from DAKOTA SLIM's CACTUS CROWN.

Night Thief (Pre-Mix)

Clown shoes
Sideshow blues
Drunk again
Carnival sins

And these hometown streets are not my own
And the city folk only bitch and moan
When they're pointing at me with penitent fingers
They can't look away from the voiceless singers

So why do I cry
When I'm born into this life
And your god is an impresario
And your lovers are shameless geeks, oh no

Saintly candles
Savage candles
Priestly confessionals
Ghastly peepholes

And the sideshow tyrants charge full price
And I can't trust the rousties 'cause they just ain't nice
When the sun goes down on the merry-go-round
I just think about home, stare at the ground

So let's take another pill, let's take a ride
On the merry-go-round so high tonight
And I won't try to kiss you because I know
That there ain't no such thing as love

Absolution is out of the question

Merry-Go-Round

A stuttering picaro singing songs from a hymn book soaked in absinthe.

Merry-Go-Round

Sterling Wormwood

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Wud Records

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