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The Death of Billy Jensen (Part 1)

by Amae

/
1.
Dirt 18:47
He was born from red dust / and the dying breath of thorny plants / He eats the science between your empty words / and digests a new language / He was brimming with dark water / a slowly drowning child / Moved across the land so slowly / and shat a twisted scar / His heart bends like a flailing arm / and snaps like a dry twig / His face is fluid like a flashing grin / and gouged like volcanic flow / His arms bulge like clogged barrels / and fire like shattered pistons / His legs drag like flippers on dry land / and swim like broken motors / He’s crawling out across this land / and choking down his worthless words / He’s spitting out bile and machinery / and building his corrupted dream
2.
It’s impossible not to wonder / what you were going to say / Would your last words, have changed my mind / But I never gave you the chance / Your words left half finished / You were licking your chops / and tasting the flowing honey/ with your silver tongue / bought and sold again and again / at the pawn shop on fourth street / Dusk brings a dark gray / that shrouds the lies / of your sad passing in a mystery / Frozen forever / in one pose / Your mouth open
3.
Everyday is the same / A repeat of a life lived 30 years before / Centipedes and scorpions lift my fat unused body off my bed / and take me to the porch / where I watch the desert writhe and move / Everyday is the same / except today / A small dark shape at the edge of the horizon / During breakfast I’m intrigued / she blocks the sun / her dress hangs on her thin frame and scrapes the dust / By afternoon I know it’s her / I tap my fingers on the porch / and send a million insects to meet her / cockroaches and ants / centipedes and scorpions / the desert is a moving carpet / but it doesn’t slow her down / her birds swoop down / and pick the sand clean / By evening I’m all alone / Every slimy friend I ever had is dead / she steps onto the porch and stands over me / I can’t move / She bends down / and points her finger at my face / like a gun / then sticks the barrel in my mouth / her finger secretes a viscous liquid / that tastes like honey / I can’t stop sucking
4.
Honey drips like milk / down my open throat / and the sun is a halo / framing her smiling face at me / This nectar will kill me / my body will rot into the porch / and all my insects will come for the feast / Her smile is so sweet / my love is an earthquake / rumbling under the surface

about

Meet the Jensen’s, your not so average family living out somewhere in the sprawling desert of the west. The Jensen’s lineage is not traced like yours or mine, instead the family has lived for generations birthing exact genetic copies of themselves. Every generation the youngest Jensen (Billy Jensen’s little sister) kills all of her brothers one by one. After each kill she becomes miraculously pregnant and rebirths the brother she’s just killed. After each of her brothers have been reborn she gives birth to herself, her head caving in as her younger self crowns and so on, until the entire family is renewed. Because of this unique situation Billy is the only Jensen that remembers both his Mother and his Sister. Each Jensen contains a unique gift. Billy controls insects and rats, His little sister controls birds, and their brother can revive any type of machinery with a mere touch.


Last year I was kicking around some of the older albums in the Spiral discography (my main band. All of our releases are here on bandcamp if you want to check them out.) and I eventually ended up way back at the very beginning, Spiral’s first album, “The Death of Billy Jensen”.

Bill and I gave it a few listens and decided that it could have been a much better album, so we dusted off the old masters and treated them like demos. This is the first in a two part rerecording of Spiral’s classic first album. Enjoy

credits

released March 30, 2017

Bill Hatfield - Vocals, Guitar, Bass

Chris - Vocals, Keyboards

All songs written by Chris and Bill Hatfield except "And all of His Insects come for the Feast" written by Chris, Bill Hatfield, and Aaron Frale

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Amae Albuquerque, New Mexico

Soundtracks for the moments that fall through the cracks

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