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the waning light of fall

by orphan factory

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1.
the only spirits left on the rez are kept in the bottles we stole, dead to rights in the eyes of their Lord. i jimmied the ancient lock on the widow’s barn door. i’m out stealing horses again wild enough to know wild enough to know i’ll never be free. tradition’s just a box of feathers pawned for a nickel and a dime so i could buy this bottle of wine, it’s easy like water down a slide. i’m drunk and i’m high and i don’t give a fuck just in case you were wondering why . . . i’m out stealing horses again wild enough to know wild enough to know i’ll never be free. the darkest parts of this town never grow old. i jimmied the same old lock on the widow’s barn door. the smell of hay and shit’s as simple as life: we get used to anything, it’s just a matter of time. i’m out stealing horses again wild enough to know wild enough to know i’ll never be free. at night i ride these hills and these streets. it ain’t much of nothing, but it’s too late now to dream. the sheriff’s always half-asleep, but if he ever catches me i’m wild enough to know i’m wild enough to know i’m wild enough to know i’ll never be free.
2.
around this town i used to know, my memory is now a stone, when I dream, I dream of ghosts. do you know? do you know? so say with me a little prayer, even though we both don't care, the light out here was never fair. it's late and i know you have to go . . . it's late and i know you have to go . . . "the dead have a way of making you wish." Lord, i don't need to hear this bullshit . . . i need you to stay, i need you to stay, i need you to stay. it's late and i know you have to go . . . it's late and i know you have to go . . . it's late and i know you have to go . . . down the stairwell and through the door, i stumble into the snow, i'm as lost as the day i was born. do you know? do you know? do you know?
3.
even the leafless trees seem to shiver as an ache breaks apart the seams of what little is left inside of me. as this quiet town seems to drift away, what have i done, why have i stayed? tell my family that i refuse to fade. someday i will attempt to leave, where the highway bends and disappears. i am standing outside this town stuck in a maze i need to be . . . i am standing outside this town stuck in a maze i need to be found i need to be found. now all my dreams spread away from me in fatal sweep of memory so i tempt the water with an empty sleeve, this river, i think, is not so deep. beneath the surface like a gentle stain i can see the face of who i was meant to be. someday i will attempt to leave, where the highway bends and disappears. i am standing outside this town stuck in a maze i need to be . . . i am standing outside this town stuck in a maze i need to be found i need to be found i need to be found.
4.
wrote a letter to myself today so the neighbors won't complain that i'm always alone, i'm so alone. sometimes i don't know my memory from a ghost, the moon has it easy, it never grows old. i've grown so old. outside i hear the kids snicker about the witch that lives here. too young to know that i once had a few of my own one time. sometimes i don't know my memory from a ghost, the moon has it easy, it never grows old. i've grown so old. shadows on the grass spin around me now. by the window i am lost in a gown. if loneliness could be my crown, i'd be the queen of this town.
5.
someone say a prayer for me in the middle of these empty fields. i can't find a place to grow, all the dirt has turn to stone. sing me a song, sing me a song, it's dark tonight and i don't belong. this dirt's too hard to work anymore. i've been breaking bones since the day i was born near the church my grandaddy broke. before he left on a halo of rope i heard him say the Lord is a ghost. forgive me Father, i have no hope. sing me a song, sing me a song, it's dark tonight and i don't belong. someone say a prayer for me in the middle of these empty fields. send me to heaven, send me to hell, i just don't think it matters anymore. granddaddy said the Lord is ghost, granddaddy said the Lord is ghost. forgive me Father, i have no hope. forgive me Father, i found me a rope. sing me a song, sing me a song, it's dark tonight and i don't belong.

about

these songs began in an abandoned farm church on the outskirts of my hometown in Northern Idaho. some say the place is haunted, some say it's blessed. either way, these five songs are a bittersweet ode to some of the folks i witnessed fade into the waning light.

credits

released August 19, 2013

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about

orphan factory Los Angeles, California

I'm from a small, rural town up in the Idaho panhandle. Much of my life has been a gamble and a kind of fistfight and I try to hold on to some semblance of faith though often I find myself too derelict to catch the offered light. Amen.

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