SUPPORT LABOR UNIONS

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Consider that this song is ten iterations of a pattern, representing the hands of the laborer as well as ten-based systems of measurement.

Credits:
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PS Perkins: Guitars, bass, vocals, floor tom set 2, howl 1
R Thomas: Synth Guitars, backup vocals, floor tom set 1, snare drum, hi hats, howl 2
Mixed and Mastered by Mystic Tape Deck

Lyrics
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I cut the tree and I hammer the nail
I fetch the water and I carry the pail
Harvest the wheat, and I bundle the bale

Fasten the saddle, the bridle and bit
I shoe the horses and I shovel their shit
I dig forever in the bottomless pit

I'm turning wrenches and I'm fueling the jet
My brow is furrowed and it's blistered with sweat
I'm on a boat with a hook and a net

I'm in the engine room, I'm driving the train
I'm climbing poles in the wind and the rain
I load containers from a towering crane

Repair the derricks for the men who get paid
I'm tugging triples up a slippery grade
I built the factory where the factories are made

I'm in the kitchen now preparing your meal
With hogs to slaughter and potatoes to peel
I hone the blade and I sharpen the steel

BARDS:Of The Shimmering Seraphs

The Laborer

Some things belong underground, though they may emerge every now and then to feed in the night.

"The Busy Worms" is a sweet little bedtime story about things which wiggle and dance in the serious moonlight. So let's dance. But then it's time for bed.


LYRICS
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(What? Oh I guess I can tell you one little story. Ok, lay down...)

A wee little wiggle, deep underground
Turn of the shovel, see what we've found
Yes you can hold one but don't squeeze too tight
They'll squirm from your fingers and slip out of sight

Now don't worry darling, don't catch a fright
The worms are just hungry, they feed in the night
Slippery, slimy and hidden from sight
Twisting and turning they dance in the moonlight
Dance in the moonlight

The worms are busy tonight

Yes you can hold one but don't squeeze too tight
They'll squirm from your fingers and slip out of sight

The earth is no object, it's just passing through
They keep the soil healthy for me and for you
Slippery, slimy and hidden from sight
Twisting and turning they dance in the moonlight
The serious moonlight

The worms are busy tonight

Did you ever think when a hearse drives by
That you may be the next to die?
They'll wrap you up in a big white sheet
That covers you from your head to your feet
They'll lower you down in a deep dark pit
And leave you alone to rot in it
The big black bug with the big red eyes
Crawls in your innards and out your sides
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out
They dance the watusi upon your snout
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out

(Good night, sweet dreams. See you in the morning!)

The Busy Worms

The Feathered Crown is a card of pride, loss, and the aftermath of hubris. It draws upon two rich veins of folklore — the Appalachian belief in a feathered crown found beneath a dying person’s pillow, and the ancient myth of the Sirens and the Muses. Together, these stories form a layered symbol of reckoning, the echoes of lost glory, and the burdens of victory.

In Appalachian tradition, discovering a tightly woven feathered crown in a pillow was often seen as a sign that the soul of the deceased had passed to heaven, a mysterious mark of spiritual judgment. In mythology, after the Muses defeated the Sirens in a singing contest, the Sirens were stripped of their wings as punishment for their arrogance. The Muses, triumphant, wove the plucked feathers into radiant crowns — symbols of their victory but also of the destruction they wrought.

This card stands at the intersection of triumph and regret. It speaks of victories that come at a cost, the spoils of conquest weighed down by lingering guilt or sorrow. The Feathered Crown reminds us that success without humility invites ruin. It asks whether our pursuits of recognition or superiority are worth the burdens we carry in their wake.

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Drums, Percussion, Keyboards: Ron Thomas
Guitars, Bass, Banjo, Lyre, Vocals, Midi: PS Perkins

Mixed and mastered by Mystic Tape Deck
Dedicated to Josephine of the Mouse Folk

LYRICS
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I saw your feathered crown, the one you keep under your pillow
Did you think that you could hide it from me?
As you don your supple plumage, tell me did you win it truly
From the fairest maidens of Persephone?
Are your songs of grief and woe, are they songs of deep regret?
With feathers plucked from silvery Sirens wings?
Or from the tails of rainbow ravens perching just outside your window
Waiting for the passing ships to hear them sing
Waiting for the passing ships to hear you sing

Dashed upon the rotten rocks of harpy limbed nightingales
Where tides resound with death inducing cries
As the sailors climb and clamor for a seat upon the razor
And a melody to cling to as they die
Rejoicing in the arts of their inglorious ease,
Freely frolic where the churning waters flow
Diving from the clifftops, splashing down into the seas below
Charming in both poetry and prose
Alluring in both poetry and prose

Whosoever dare to wear the feathers in their hair
Like the parrot and the magpie in a cage
That we may divert our stare from the circling of the bear
While standing proud upon the heavens final stage
When the starry sisters nine, with their bellies full of wine
Have bested you at your own foolish games
And the ships all passing by which now leave you there to die
Having never even known your given names
Having never even known your real names

I saw your feathered crown, the one you keep under your pillow
Did you think that you could hide it from me?
Oh, Josephine, you should have known better.

The Feathered Crown

AVANT GARDE | GUTTER PROG | GARAGE JAZZ

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