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Gypsy Paw

by Eastern Phoebes

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1.
Old Toronto 02:15
We were caught in the bramble//sticks of shame, shame of shambles//we can never fail//yeah we’ll soon prevail like we always do//when I went to California//I was tame, I thought I’d warn you that//we can never know//if our skin will glow in the afterlife//we got stuck in a puddle//sticks of shame, shame befuddled//we can never guess//if our skin will show for the ultimate test//when I went to old Toronto//I was told, I thought you should know//we can never tell//if our skin will yell in the afterlife//we were trapped in a tussle//sticks of shame, shame of muscle//we can never doubt//yeah we’re all about the route to the ultimate road//when I went to new Seattle//I had a chat with the chickens and the cattle//we’re so very blessed//if our skin won’t stress in the afterlife.
2.
I sunk that River Pomona//seems I'd long outgrown ya//I sunk that Ocean Nebraska//she ain't ever done what I asked her//if it bothers you as much as it bothers me//combat missile diploma//sunk that River Pomona//drunk from the Sea of Montana//now I'm mild-mannered//sunk that River Pomona//she ain't ever gonna own ya//if it bothers me as much as it bothers you//I sunk that River Pomona//with my combat missile diploma
3.
Gypsy Paw 02:30
I was born in '85//when I came out I was barely alive//made it through the winter's edge//brought me home but I was already dead//you were born in '59//when you emerged I heard you were fine//you survived the summer sting//brought you home but you were barely listening//when you sold your jeans//to the Soviets and underprivileged teens//I was dead by '98//psychoanalyze my fate//just survived the atom bomb//thought I was right but I was wrong all along//oh you sold your pills//to the mobsters up on Constitution Hill//and you traded all your lottery picks//to the Timberwolves for mozzarella sticks//and you didn't know it then but you will my friend//death will get you in the end//whatever that means.
4.
I specialize in everything//and I'll do what I want//say what I want//I realize I need a ring//yeah I'll get what I want//be what I want//you don't have a clue about me//but I have a clue about you//I'm always right right all the time//I'm never wrong//I'll egg you on I am LeBron//taking my talents to South Beach//closing my talons on the prey//taking my talents to South Beach//if you knew when you threw me away.
5.
A balancing act fit for the gods//I'm a little lightning rod//cross my arms and start to pray//the mantis never slips away//I'm gonna bite your head off when I'm done with you//I'm gonna rip your head off when I'm done making love to you//a fly's a snack that's all I see//argue with a bumblebee//cross my arms and start to say//the mantis never used to pray//I'm gonna rip your head off when I'm done with you//I'm gonna bite your head off when I'm done making love to you//I think I'll eat my babies for breakfast//I think I'll sink my fangs into the dirt//I'm gonna bite your head off when I'm done with you//I'm gonna rip your head off it may really hurt//I'm gonna bite your head off when I'm done with you//I'm gonna tear your head off when I'm done with you//I'm gonna rip your head off when I'm done with you//I'm gonna bite your head off when I'm done making love to you.

about

Recorded April-June 2011 in our loft apartment/lake house, Bellport/Patchogue, NY.

All songs written//arranged//engineered//produced by Ry Smith.

Front cover art by Andy Drake.
Back cover art by Sarah Kennedy.

Thanks to Dan @ February Records, and all our friends!

credits

released June 30, 2011

Ry Smith-vocals, keyboards, drum programming, tambourine

Meg Bayley-vocals, percussion

Rick Kattermann-electric + acoustic guitars

Frank Filipo-drums, percussion

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Eastern Phoebes Newport, Rhode Island

Eastern Phoebes was a band on Earth in the 21st century.

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