Too Poor To Pray is a story of overcoming grief through travel, love, and reverence for the seasons as a spiritual but non religious person in a religious but non spiritual world. Songwriter McKenzie Lauren Jones builds upon her catalog of anti-capitalist and polyamorous songs that are bold, groovy, and meaningful.

Blood On The Levee

Worship

Original song by Dred Fouglas.


Lyrics:

Well, shit’s went south long as I remember
Black cat hissing at me under a ladder
All banged up, reaching for my wallet
Only found a knife and the devil in my pocket
Thought about a way to sneak up into heaven
When God ain’t lookin’, I’ll take an angel hostage
All banged up and done with hard livin’,
‘cause the bad gets worse, and my sick is turnin’ septic

Please, take me from this earth
Don’t wanna be a lingering curse

Another day ends choking me to sleep 
in a dive-bar haze while the stray souls drink
Woke up deaf from the alleyway’s scream
I tipped my hat to the ghost leavin’ me
A lady walkin’ by spat in my direction 
A city dove seemed to laugh at my rejection
So, again I go, circles in the gloom
in this rickety heart of an old, empty room

Please, take me from this earth
Don’t wanna be a lingering curse
I’ll trade in my bones for the dirt 
Don’t wanna be a lingering curse

Please, take me
Can I get a do-over?
I don’t wanna be
Next round I’ll do better
Please, take me
Can I get a do-over?
I don’t wanna be
Next round I’ll do better

Lingering Curse

Sara - American Gothic Version

Written by: Codey Watson and Sam Anderton

Gator Fishin' Competition

Deep Dark Bayou

Revenge

1974

Walkula Beach

LYRIC:
Out in the desert, the sun's settin' low,
A cowboy zombie's ridin', with nowhere to go.
His boots are dusty, his hat's worn and frayed,
Chasin' after brains, in the twilight's shade.

The wind whispers secrets from graves in the sand,
He rides with a curse, not quite dead, not quite man...

Oh, Cowboy Zombie, with your heart made of rust,
Ridin' through the night, in the moonlight's trust.
With a lonesome howl, and a hunger so deep,
In this Wild West world, it's the dead that weep.

He tips his hat to the living folks near,
But they run in terror, filled with dread and fear.
A rattlesnake's hissin', the coyotes cry,
In the ghost town shadows, the undead ride high.

The wind whispers secrets from graves in the sand,
He rides with a curse, not quite dead, not quite man...

Oh, Cowboy Zombie, with your heart made of rust,
Ridin' through the night, in the moonlight's trust.
With a lonesome howl, and a hunger so deep,
In this Wild West world, it's the dead that weep.

They say he once loved a saloon girl fair,
Now he haunts her mirror with a hollow stare.
Her name on the wind, his groan in reply,
True love never ends, even after you die...

Underneath the stars, he dreams of the past,
When he was a hero, but those days didn't last.
Now he's just a shadow, a memory of pain,
In a world full of sunlight, he's caught in the rain.

Oh, Cowboy Zombie, with your heart made of rust,
Ridin' through the night, in the moonlight's trust.
With a lonesome howl, and a hunger so deep,
In this Wild West world, it's the dead that weep.

So raise up your glass for the cowboy so bold,
A tale of the undead, in a world turned cold.
With a ghostly grin, and a heart made of dust,
Cowboy Zombie rides on, in the night he trusts.

Cowboy Zombie - Ghost Rider on the Undead Trail

Musical hobbyist with a few talents and occasional ambitions.

Inexplicably the man know as Dred Fouglas was born in the year 1913 to two women. In some strange way, they both gave birth to each half of his body. He was rightfully left in the woods at birth. In 1917 he was first documented crafting a stringed instrument from bailing twine and shovels. Feared by the town, he was persecuted and declared a "sheehogue" and a "vargulf" despite having 1 confirmed kill against a werewolf.  He fled the town to become an extra in the Roman Polanski film "Rosemary's Baby". Several years later he read from the Naturom Demonto in East Tennessee and began writing songs that are responsible for at least 13 killings. He now resides with his wife and 24 children in the suburbs of Port Banguss, Maine, smoking his pipe and writing gloomy music is his mildewy garage.

I'm a creative AI artist (music & art). Each song and image here reflects my passion. Explore my YT world: www.youtube.com/@BornaAI. Love what you see? Follow my other pages and stay inspired. Thank you!

We are McKenzie and Galen. We play original sultry rock. Based in Ithaca, NY, we broke onto the scene in late 2018 after years of playing well with others. We like hikes and beer and dancing and adult cartoons and each other. We don't like capitalism or alarm clocks. Comprised of groovy cello, guitar, banjo, and drums backing bluesy vocals, we are happy to bring a hot, haunting vibe to an ear near you.

New tracks tagged #Gothic Americana