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I Don't Know the Man

by Horace Pickett

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1.
We’re caffeine tired, we have machine stairs With magazine flyers, and gelatin bears Our tangerine hats have Halloween grins These seventeen cats have seventeen twins Don’t watch where you’re going Don’t worry ‘bout your speed All our dead are friends indeed These lemonade booths have band-aid smiles Like a saw blade tooth has hand-grenade style I always played so practical We shared the shade and made it magical Don’t watch where you’re going Don’t worry ‘bout your speed All our dead are friends indeed
2.
You tantalize my senses you old bag of laughs Tap into my defenses like a telegraph I walk in socks of sorrow on days you have a job Dear we can always borrow We can always rob I know you like to go fast I got a car It’s got no gas You are a foaming canine Sharing with me your bones And by a junkyard stop sign Release your pheromones Let’s roll like a roulette wheel Clearly our luck here is real
3.
I don't see any other choice but to trust somebody who don't trust me and never puts their trust in a digital watch I'll have to admit he sounded legitimate He'd kick up his toes and I chose to forget it Cuz' he always came back ‘til he was caught He never split the profit of a score I'd have take it from his underwear drawer With 300 bucks, on top of our luck, we were less than a mile before we got stuck And we both ran different ways across the tracks A payphone booth reunited us both, Soon the flashlights followed us with every move And he swears I'll get my share when we get back He calls himself a treasurer by trade He tried to take all the money we made Glad I hid a hundred of the money we made Surviving the dawn, my partner was gone When cop cars started driving up my lawn And in hard restraints he waits for me as well "We understand you know this man, He told us traveling with fare in hand." They all accused, but I refused to plead guilty for a two-bit cell He never split the profit of a score I'd have take it from his underwear drawer You bet I'd have to take it from his underwear drawer
4.
Oh my rent is due Please may I bum off you Come nice dog its lonely here My love, my love Above me was an ugly possum but autumn always greets us lovely blossom sweet with a sadist’s spear My love, my love You’re everyone I know and your promises have fewer signs of aging as the seasons keep on changing The wind was sharp with a biting brush It kissed my neck with a violent touch Warmer now but hard to reach My love, my love Summer is spent like falling leaves It seems a while we spoke like thieves Folks, for you a dollar each My love, my love
5.
I went walking I went down a trail I’ve never seen something whispered to my back a tree so tall and green “Tell me Mister, tell me please how does it feel to talk to trees?” I answered with a question, “Well, do you have some good stories?” I had figured that old boy has not seen much out here The woods are quiet except for storms and then you shake in fear “I have many I could tell, Why this one day I nearly fell.” He said with weary words “I hold all kinds of birds.” Unimpressed I moved on and only as for me Next time I am in these woods I’ll just ignore the trees
6.
You told them your aim, you were cold when you came "There's nothing wrong with breaking some one's heart." You're in the know and figure they're as smart "There's nothing wrong with breaking some one's heart." No janitors gonna be ‘round to pick up all that trash Better you diet now, cut your cholesterol in half Your words they'll pretend they never heard "There's nothing wrong with breaking some one's heart." They try to stop you if they can before you start "There's nothing wrong with breaking some one's heart." No milk mans gonna be round to spill his every jar Better get wiser now, read some books until you are No need for you either to concede "There's nothing wrong with breaking some one's heart." All discussion had to stop when you remarked "There's nothing wrong with breaking some one's heart."
7.
Mr. Ramirez 03:34
Old Ramirez, Rhine stone rugs, Bullet holes from twenty slugs He folds casino bills, Tight until his wallet fills Just outside the dancing club On the sidewalks of undemanding love Slow and sly, He meets our eyes on a night he felt to inspire He rips one hundred clean in three Two for them, a third for me He said, together you must stay from parties to the darkest days Remember if you don't you won't get paid Old Ramirez, Rhine stone rugs Bullet holes from twenty slugs He wins in many ways Packs a piece before he plays Remember if you don’t you won’t get paid
8.
I was sitting in the captain’s chair Upright by the T.V. glare And breathing lightly in the dusty air I’m not sure when I moved, or what the medics used I was buried when my eyes were closed I slept too long I suppose Now I’m occupied by tic-tac-toe And I know all my moves so I can’t win or lose Lying lazy in my Sunday best Leave it heard there is peace and rest My weather’s merry and I’m whistling melodies As my felonies are pardoned under stones inside the garden Termite tuxedos in my size I got names for all those crazy little guys Here and there, they’re in my eyes Like the movies I can improvise Hey, it’s night in the morning And it’s morning at night Lying lazy in my Sunday best Leave it heard there is peace and rest My weather’s merry and I’m whistling melodies As my felonies are pardoned under stones inside the garden
9.
Let Lift 02:56
Let lift, C'mon on in I packed the oxygen Weightless the mass of us Dangerous the class of us And when I'm up that high I'm a citizen of the sky We'll see a jealous ground Someone might shoot us down Lift me higher Turn the wheel, start the fire Lift me higher Let lift, and burn this air Off to the wind we dare So when the compass shows Where the worst of weather goes I'll shake it with all my bones Inside security zones I'd rather fall than drown Someone might shoot us down
10.
Soft Beds 00:43
What day is it? I always forget My clock hasn’t tocked in a bit Nothing ever happens Even in the wildest sea And soft beds are so hard to leave

about

Recorded in Seattle, WA at the Tiger House; In the Winter of 2010-2011.

Recorded, Mixed, and Mastered by Deputy Jones.

Ryan Stormweather-lead vocals-guitar

Nick Jones-bass-guitar-thumb piano

Emily Westman-drums-bongos-backing vocals

Michael Henry Brown -keys-guitar-synth

Johnny Unicorn-accordion-saxaphone-bass clarinet-synth-backing vocals.

credits

released October 26, 2012

Performed by Ryan Stormweather, Nick Jones, Michael Henry Brown, Emily Westman, and Johnny Unicorn. Thanks to Ron Haight for the excellent advice and for letting us borrow some mics and cables!

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about

Horace Pickett Seattle, Washington

Horace Pickett combines a wide range of musical sensibilities from Rock & Roll, Folk, and Electronic, performing all songs with glamorous hints of stage theatrics. They are often compared to The Kinks, They Might Be Giants, and Beck.

Horace Pickett currently lives in Seattle, WA.
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