David

from by Pale People

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lyrics

Midnight—David listens
Dad's out beating Mother senseless
David holds his sister
Very close—poor defenseless

Children grow up quick in Cleveland
David's keeping his odds even
Readin'—turning towards
Freedom—now Daddy's leavin'

Drunk—dead—David fourteen
Getting tall and growing smarter
Fighting—speak fast and bright as
Lightning—striking down stepfather

Raging deep in his guts
He exits—the doorway shuts
He turns—the sky is full of crazy
Suns—Dave cuts and runs

Chorus
Charlie's in the dirt and
Barbara's bleeding badly
Debbie makes you hurt from
Years of loving madly
And when Mackenzie comes
Dave holds him—David hums


Evening—Mom and Dad are screaming
I hold my arm around my sister
Someday, they'll work this through—
He'll kiss her—bandage every blister—

Fix her—she's badly broken—
Full of secret parts she's always
Hated—it's all too much for
David—in her dark hallways

He sinks—she is drowning
I am somewhere Mom and Dad can't
See me—where neither one can
Free me—still and sad and

David tries to keep us living
Tries to give and keep on giving
Everything that's his, I will
Inherit—and we will share it

Growing up—becoming men
Be around to see it when
Everything that happened happens again
And it happens again

Morning—we approach each other
Dad's been meditating—Mother's
Dead—a girl's sleeping in my
Bed—we're growing old—another

Morning, like any other morning,
Brings us to the kitchen cooking
Corn—we're newly
Born—David's looking

Over at the snowflakes falling
Piling up behind the garden
Wall—we stand there as they
Fall—icicles harden

Winter gleaming white and lovely
Every single part of me
Sings—for every one of these
Things—that the morning brings

Chorus

credits

from Portraits, released March 24, 2017

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about

Pale People Missoula, montana

Take an embittered music school dropout. Add two spoonfuls of faintly balding neurotic. Add heaping handfuls of dark-eyed love prince. Add antidepressants, a piano, small noisy crowds, unsatisfying sex, a wheelchair, a lamp. The band is called Pale People, and one of their songs contains this phrase: "Fetish food play--babysitter wet dream." ... more

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