Song about italian westerns. Named after movie Minnesota Clay which is a classic spaghetti western movie. Recorded live for video shoot.

Born on the back roads 
Growing ups a test 
For the manliest men
In the spaghetti west
And I don't think i'm pretty
In fact I know it
You claim that I'm perfect
I challenge you to show it
Come on now mister preacher 
I ain't a fool

Now your insisting on talking
When I ain't at my best
Cause I drank to the sunrise 
The sun sets in the spaghetti west
And I don't think I'm crazy
But I can't show it 
I'm gunslinging nightly and waiting to blow it
Come on and hold me babe
I'm coming through

Dead Heart, alone
I have run out of money
Now the street is my home
Then she stabs me
Slow

I'm sobbing an crying
Living for less
That bandit in the desert 
Stole my heart in the spaghetti west
And she cut it with her switchblade
Spit on it
Put it in a blender
Smashed it threw a sieve 
Mixed it up with whiskey
took a swig

Dead heart, alone
I have run out of money
Now the street is my home
Then she stabs me
Slow

Momma named me devil
Leave it tattooed on my chest
Let the lip inferno
Reside in the holy spaghetti west
Now I've rattled my gears
Unwanted house guest
The bane of existence
A kook in the crows nest
I'm serving the patrons
A perfect hostess

Dead heart, alone
I have run out of money
Now the street is my home
The she stabs me
Slow

Minnesota Clay (live)

Song written by Arthur Sanzo and recorded with March to the Arctic. First song I ever wrote on an acoustic guitar.

We started off like a cannon ball flying
The cross was burning when we hit the wall
Sacked the city and killed the king there
Women and children, we burned them all

There wasn't glory
There wasn't fame
The stars of hollywood do it all the same
Some were happy, some were sad
At the depose of their king
Tom Cruise is dead

They meant on Thursdays, twice a month
The queen of hollywood is Kate Hudson
Drives a hummer sits on twenty twos
When we sacked the city we burned her too

There wasn't glory 
There wasn't fame
You stars in hollywood you do it all the same
Some were happy, Some were sad
At the depose of their queen
My favorite Katy's dead

Starlit city, boulevard town
Looked so pretty while it burned to the ground
Some were happy, some were sad
At the depose of there town,
Hollywood is dead

Hollywood

Ninja Song

Pot Of Justice

Song recorded on valentine's day 2012, lonely. It is a parody song.

Well Saint Valentine's coming
I wanted some honey
I went to the bank
I took out some money
Now everyone knows where this one is going
Downtown, Downtown

Down to the corner
Feeling quite nervous
Picked up a young one 
Who carried a thermos
Thought it was liquor but it was detergent 
Oh man! She's drinking it

I'm now rethinking 
Rash this investment
Though it is cheaper
Then food and refreshment
I hope I don't end up diseased or arrested
At least it's a holiday

Well Saint Valentine's coming
I'm watching the TV
The spice channel blurs 
You know that it pleases me
You think it's sad I'm going on thirty
I'm merry, I'm merry

I'm merry because 
The snake caught the beaver
In low budget films 
Where the girls all run fevers
I got my rocks of in the seedy theater
Hooray! for the actress

Who works the late shift
At the city diner
The scars on those breasts man
They make her look finer
And I don't complain cause I'm not a whiner
Especially on holidays

Well Saint Valentine's coming
With no gifts for me
I will turn to young magic
Carve hearts in a tree
It won't come true even if you believe
Put your faith in the work of

Great writer 
Old man Thoreau 
You just need one person
For your soul to grow
And that person is you wouldn't you know
Now turn up your ego

And laugh at the couples
On valentine's day
The souls of the taken
Keep the devils at bay
And if your alone that's a'ok
At least it's a holiday

Happy fourteen to all of the lovers
We are the lonely who sleep with each other
We're off the love boat; we're going under
Hearts they will moan, souls they will shudder

And make us forget just how lonely we are
We don't burn as bright as the in item stars
We take who we can; drink what we like
Break cupid's small neck
On Saint Valentine's night 


Saint Valentine's Rebuttal

Song follows Albert Camus' Myth of Sisyphus essay. The dialogue basically uses existentialist theory to conclude suicide is the ultimate option of life. I think Camus is an idiot, but know thy enemy. Song released on American Alien, Success Story. Lyric Credit: Mike Sanzo

I wish I could burn this town in to dust and rubble 
Burn the city to the ground and never turn around

For I've become a figment in my own imagination
And that figments waiting patience at the train station

When I board that train I'll go up North maybe Maine
I really hope it rains up in Maine

Cause I miss those long introspective months of biting winter
Watch the wooden fences splinter in the winter

Bobby boy grows weary 
When his chid dies of SIDS
Let the ego and alter ego
Stage a plot, kill the id
He loaded up his shotgun
Place the barrel in his mouth
His last word make no sense
The blast blows most 
Of his teeth out

We're just the green cucumber 
And we're pickling in the summer
We give up when the good times are rolling in
Shouting suicide's in style
Lay your head down for awhile
Let the trigger blow me into the wind

Subscribe to Albert Camus
Read the myth of sisyphus 
And write it on my gravestone
Here lies the existentialist

The Myth of Sisyphus

Song is about general frustrations with finding a job. When I wrote this I was working in a mail room in DC. It was released on American Alien, Success Story.

You think your smart
You think your funny
I wasn't born yesterday honey
Got a real mean mug and sugar
That's a fact
When I move on to Memphis oh
Won't be no coming back

I got a job 
In a mailroom 
Play my guitar for a whores heirloom
I'm a bad motherfucker
And you called me a hack
I'm gonna grow a dirty beard oh
Put my sorries in a sack

Now you wouldn't know you son from a portrait of the devil
Spent your time on the steel string, blood smells of metal
Hand on the slide, foot on the pedal 
I'm going to give you what I got
It's the working mans blues

I take the train 
Into the city
My coat is long and my walk is pretty
I got no destination man
I got nowhere to go
Let the clock keep a'tickin
Let the work start to flow

Now there's tire treads in Bethlehem and Jesus drives a lexus
Stole the care in Omaha headed south through Texas
Riding awful fast, got an interview 
Says he's gonna be a shoe shine
God damned the working blues

The Jesus Drives a Lexus Blues

Song written in a bar on a napkin, about the last girl I dated in college. Needless to say things didn't end how I wanted. Released on American Alien, Success Story. 

Icarus did die burned up in the sun
The spit froths and foams on the liars forked tongue
I'm sitting in my basement and playing you song
To four white walls

Feels like the joy has just left the air
Stalked by a shadow like a grizzly bear
I drink to much and don't care 
Anymore

Tell me now babe, 
What am supposed to write
You cut off my fingers 
And left me to die
I will bleed through the fretboard
You will turn a bling eye
I hate the way you bring me down

It feels like just seconds you off with the wind
I garden your name on a tree with a twig
I play the ear drums in the house band
In your brain.....
....God brings the rain
           You bring the cold
In the Roses warm bed 
my love grows
You do your thing now, I do mine

I know who your with through the photos you post
It pisses me off more then you'll ever know
I didn't die; I ain't a ghost
You sure do make me feel like one

Tornado by land, maelstrom by sea
You flew in my beer like a honey bee
Strung up my throat so I couldn't sing
But I'll be damned if I don't try

Now the calendars marked November 13
My twenty third name day you made love to me
When I think on it now, I can't breath
But I know who sells the drugs for this

Gave it my all
Close to a year
Strum toward the south
Pray that she hears
Glass cracks
Goodbye Cheers
Happy I drank my fill



Four White Walls

This is an offbeat Thanksgiving song. Release on American Alien, Success Story.

The cracks on the chimneys 
Are crook'd and disheveled 
Dear mason you've botched 
Your attempt to assemble 
The smoke finds the gaps
When I pull the choke 
Time will weave and wobble
Here on the coast

Gabriel sits high in tall plymouth tower
Watch the first thanksgiving
Turn a bloody baby shower
Well we had the bullets 
Let the indians all float
Let the tide take their bodies
To the holy ghost

Then the new dawn breaks, more joyous then the old
We keep digging treasure caves, for the silver and gold
We beat down the devil by embracing the soul
Save our pigeons and parchment for the snow

On comes black christmas
The cold multiples the dead
Santa looks sharp
In satin of red
The young men will suffer
Which is kind of ironic
The children die quicker 
Are given the tonics

Now the leaves they're a fallin and burying the corpses
Of the sixty four pilgrims and twenty four horses
I'm jumping to England gonna retain my lordship
This settlements Europes abortion 

The new years brought nothing
Turn to dust in our graves
And fail Peter's riddle
At the pearly gates 
I can't help but feeling
Despondent and angry
Run back to dear mother
The one who forsakes me 

Corpse Pilgrim

Work in progress. Recorded with Brendon Mullen and Mike Sanzo in DC

Lyrics on track itself:

Mary Jane, 
I saw you waiting in the freezing rain
Looked like an angel when you gazed my way
I know you ain't for me

When I saw your face
I want to take you so far away
To the ocean maybe we can stay
On the Beach

It'll be the happiest day of our lives
Living on a beach watching the tide
It's be the happiest day of our lives
Living on a beach

Living On A Beach (cell recording)

Pretty Little Kitty

Even The Cowbells Get The Blues (live)

One Rotten Son Of A Bitch (Rough)

I Cut The Earth, You Are The Moon (Rough)

Then There Was Jack

Hey Alaska

Superhero

Epic Victoria

Ginger

Saint Valentine's Rebuttal (raw)

Saint Valentines Rebuttal (self Record)

Saint Valentine's Rebuttal (synth)

Hello and welcome to my soundcloud, where you can find my comprehensive catalog of sounds. I began my career as a songwriter in high school and as such my you can hear a maturing of the songs as you move from the beginning to the end of the catalog. 

The current name I am releasing under is The Low Bends. I'm moving in a roots rock americana direction recently and am planning some releases this year. 

The Low Bends

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