Music and lyrics by Damon Waitkus

Lyrics

Brother, would you talk me down?
I’m afraid that if I stop this truck
I will be tempted to reach in between
the seats and feel the heft
of my “just-in-case.”

Slick earth and the ladder slipped
and I landed twenty feet below,
a broken back, bruised ribs
and a pool of eggshell white.
So much for pushing brushes.

Came out of the hospital so deep in the hole
they were suggesting I climb on my friends—
prescribed enough “ocean” to drown a horse,
my God.

Brother, I am so afraid
but not for myself no more.
If I can’t provide, I’m worth more
dead than alive, no man am I.
No man am I.

Woke up this morning when the screen door slammed.
Guess the kid was heading off to school.
I started east as soon as I found a box of slugs
behind some paint cans.

I am a descendent of the great William Clark,
if only somebody gave half a crap.
“You’ve had your turn!” is all I hear.
Brother, when was that?

There’s a place my father used to go
to shoot off some rounds and howl
as he got drunk off his ass
and shattered all the glass
in a graveyard of old television sets.

I’m losing reception, man.
I’m going to lose you.
I’m going.
I’m going.

Personnel

Damon Waitkus – lead and backing vocals, banjo, hammer dulcimer, tongue drum, mbira, electric taishogoto, 12-string acoustic and baritone electric guitars, glockenspiel, percussion
Emily Packard – violin, viola
Jason Hoopes – bass
Jordan Glenn – drums, synth
Thea Kelley – backing vocals
Victor Reynolds – harmonica, tenor recorder
Karl Evangelista – electric guitar solo