Lyrics

Old man like a mountain
that steals afternoons,
the day of our party,
collapsed in the sun
and dragged himself home
to a chair in the cellar
where he sat for a long time
by the old table saw
looking frail as a piece of balsa wood
and we sighed at the sight
‘cause our friends were arriving
and this was not the time for pity.

Old man like a mountain,
your woman’s a slave,
your son in a failure.
It’s too late for love,
We are keeping you comfortable,
but this is your hole.

All the slaves and the failures are outside on the lawn
telling stories of soldiers deserting as soon as they landed
on beautiful enemy shores.

Do you think we should check on him?
Do you think he’s still alive?
(Comes a sound from the cellar door)
He is up! He is grinning.
The ferocious blade is spinning.
“Leave me alone!” he snarls,
“I’m building you a spine.”

Personnel

DW – vocals, hammer dulcimer, electric guitar, mandolin, piano, pianet, percussion
EP – violin
KM – bassoon, vocals
JH – bass
JG – drums
Sarah Whitley – samples