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Today's Gonna Be a Parade!

by Sam Regas

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1.
When you’re sitting in a paranoid mood, the world’s small as a needle’s eye. An eye. Embrace the fear. The fright is yours to steer. When you’re sitting in a paranoid mood, and the wind’s out of your sail--your eyes could use the tears. So cry, cry. But there’s miracles in this wine. Drink your cup and your feeling fine, fine as a fiddle, fiddle played in time. The world is such you could die. So die .
2.
I was out at Hotel Congress. Looking out the mountains. Feeling like a vampire. Do you come here often sadness? Athens were the conquest. Bloomington, the fortress. And my jesus, the miles in-between. Could you go the distance sadness? Teach me, keep me. I wanted to be good my whole life Teach me, keep me. I wanted to be good by your side I was out at Hotel Congress. Looking through the mountains. Feeling like a vampire. Do you come here often sadness?
3.
True North 01:08
I got a helluva notion tonight, the stars burning bright and my love for yours in echo. And should those stars align, we could stay true and regard our distant mornings. Mornings we’d rub sleepy eyes, drink a full pot and execute our visions. If we could stay the course far away tonight. Find true north far away tonight. Follow true north my dear.
4.
Don’t take cheap shots. Connections never taste as sweet as the thought before the punch. The payoff never comes. Anyway, you’re plenty strong, enough not to show. Don’t take cheap shots. Don’t make yourself the sucker, the mark. Getting hurt just to say that you got a helluva chin on the take. And anyway, you’re plenty brave, enough not to show. To know there’s light and not to see it. To know there’s love and not to feel it. That’s hope no matter how you cut it. So hang it, frame it, know your beast and tame him. He’s dark enough not to show.
5.
Feeder River 04:20
When it’s raining in the Ides of March; and the snow’s still stuck in drains; and it’s kicking off the heels of cars; and the sputtering wet keeps you awake. I’m still reeling from these last few months. And I’m sorting through it’s razor blades. But I’m dulling off the edges one by one and hoping for circular shapes. If your head’s in a mine about to pop, I could dust off the debris of your face. I could stitch it up with pulp and glue and make the prettiest of paper maches. Yeah, the dead in your eyes could make a few worlds collide. And I think I hear explosions in space. BAM BAM in my gut like a pinball machine, hitting walls long debased. Darling, lie on these arms tonight. I might want you. Hell, I need you and in this spring, it’s so hard to leave you. I’ll rock the boat if you hold the oars and tend. On this feeder river, with an eager lover on the mend. Every spring the river would get flooded. And every spring the buildings would get gutted. I like to think of the locals going fishing; and beer drinking; and porch swimming. Now the bank’s all hoisted and irrigated. And there’s a bridge and the kids that get to bridge jumping. That fear gets my heart pounding. And I think about our 2 future kids and teaching em baseball. Cus me, I’d rather not fall. I’d rather grow old with you in my head.
6.
Where’s your dollar gone lately? Where’s the rub? You scan the crowd, knuckles shaky, and then you stuff your mouth with drugs. Boy, wipe your face. Today’s gonna be a parade. You’re the son of wolves and outlaws, no one to trust. Half the crowd looks a coward and half look drunk--in a drum of rain. Today’s gonna be a parade It’s quite the pleasure to say that the world feels perfect and gay. And I’m feeling mighty pretty. I’m telling the committee. They’re fixing to commit me. And today’s gonna be a parade. So make yourself a world traveler. Make passionate love. Join a cause. Burn apostates. End up face down in a club. Make it home for Sunday dinner; don’t be late. The victors hoot and holler. They’re strong on the make. And there’s you feeling 6 feet down, living out an Irish Wake. All these tremors and fears congregate. Today’s gonna be a parade.
7.
Tender Love 03:48
He went to pieces in a canyon, full of bottles and cheap confessions. Now he’s crying out to heaven. Oh father, can you help him?. I didn’t know where I was. And I didn’t know what evil was. Oh, but I didn’t know your tender love. Your tender love is enough. Now he’s calling his biggest champions. They tell him he’s a sweetheart, charming and handsome. But what’s that get him? Not a damn thing but a head the size of a fucking watermelon (that’s prone to busting).
8.
Flypaper 02:37
Flypaper girl, serrated lips all curled. She’s my downtown magnate. The princess, the pearl, the summer wears her good like any other wounded barkeep. But this summer’s green, so she dreams a dream and rights this vessel into a rocket. Imperial on Court smells of wooden lacquer, candle wax, ouzo, and antiques. The patrons are tall and they’re wild, (not quite her father), and she sees it through the eyes of a nervous child. Their flypaper worlds still hum in her head like bagpipes and speak to her like magpies.
9.
There’s a devil in pocket. He comes out in the winter. He used to seethe with anger. But for now, he’s in the shower and lets the water run, and run, and run… If you were broken, my heart could burst wide open. I’ve been broken, too. This one’s for you
10.
here’s a place near my road where inferno fires grow. I start to get numb like a child on his mom and let go. Have yourself a ball on me There’s a carousel ride inside these eyes. It takes me to places where angels and demons collide. Have yourself a ball on me. I’m a vat full of gin where spaceships come in. They make me say and do things that summon old biblical sins. Have yourself a ball on me. But I owe it to you, to aim straight and true. Picture my good and release like them zen archers do. Have yourself a ball on me. There’s a place near my road where inferno fires grow. I start to feel numb like a child on his mom and let go. Have yourself a ball on me.

about

This is a record born of many months, many living room recordings and much trial and error. The songs are rich and full of sometimes-surreal, sometimes-matter-of-fact lyrics. There's a lot of melody. A lot of twisted song arrangements. Guitar, banjos, piano, noise. I think you'll like it. If you don't like it, at least it's pretty short.

credits

released July 27, 2018

Recorded in various living rooms in Bloomington, IN and Canton, OH.

Produced by Sam Regas.
Tracks 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 10 engineered, co-produced by Chris Manse.

Album cover art by Marsha Washburn (titled Mini Buddies) ,
courtesy of Passion Works Studio in Athens, OH.

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Sam Regas Bloomington, Indiana

Hey I'm a songwriter in Bloomington by way of Northeast Ohio. Some of the songs are sad. Some are kind of funny. Maybe you'll dig em

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