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A meditation on toxic masculinity. All sales go to Planned Parenthood.


released December 24, 2016

All songs by Mike O'Malley
Produced and Arranged by Kate Copeland

Mike O'Malley: Bouzouki, Mandocello, Guitar, Bass, Vocals
Kate Copeland: Keyboards, Vocals
Cassondra Alvord: Vocals
Christy Hall: Vocals
Sam Weber: Bass
Tom Stephens: Drums
Sam Barnes: Violin
Weini Tekeste: Viola
Julie Biber: Cello



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Track Name: Kindling Enough

It singes your ears
And it howls in the trees
It singes your ears
And it howls in the trees
There is a violence in you
And a violence in me

There is a barbed-wire fence
Mile high all around
There is a barbed-wire fence
Keeps us both from the town
'Cause, given Kindling Enough,
What would we not burn down?

Friend! It was a big one
You tore the roof off
You set the virus free
Bellowing bile
Anger knit up your brow
Your eyes a happy green
Because where would it go?
Where would it go?
Where would it go, if not out?
Where could it go?
Where could it go, if not out?

You dare equivocate
Yellow flowers with red
Pieces alone with checkmate
Gathered softness for beds
There's not an exception to you
That's at least what I dread.

There is a gale in your ears
And a vacuum between
There is a storm in your ears
Merely air in between
There is a silence in you
And a silence you need.

Friend! It was a quick one
You had to get off
And not without sympathy
You couldn't help it
Or that's what you'd always say
But what does that mean for me?

And when would it go?
When would it go if not now?

I've known the caterwaul
That echoes in your hollow bones
The long, low siren call
The dull, unceasing, seven-year moan
And it's drawing its own lines
And it's blurring its own lines

You may hunch over wood
I may hunch over brass
You may drink from a cup
They may call mine a glass
But neither one will forestall
What must soon come to pass

There is a house on your block
There are trees all around
The same applies to the walk
From my gate to downtown
And there is kindling enough
(what will we not burn down?)
Track Name: Too Thin

Because it longer nurseth the disease
The uncertain, sickly appetite to please
I'm building you some lead parentheses

Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
This ode is but an effort to contain

And darling, you're not the only one rolling your eyes
I mean, how many eulogies before I let you die?
And your mom's not the only one says I'm too thin
It's just one of the dozen ways I try to be the wind
in the fall around you
like a shawl around you
like walls around you

I sing unceasing undertow
I sing the Romes your tiny, careful hands laid low
I sing with breath too sweet and hot to be my own

Because it keep me up afloat
Because I drown too many heathens in the moat
Because your voice is still the loudest in my throat


In the corner of your room
In the corner of your love
Who laid waste to freely given warmth?

In the corner of your room
In the corner of your love
You sometimes think a thought that isn't yours

Who shook the tree of every single orange?

In the corner of your love
The music's soft but too close not to hear.

In the corner of your room
In the corner of your love
Part of you is not done getting clear

Part of you is not done running, dear.
Track Name: Goblin

So you're a goblin
In southern brooklyn
In a gust of bad wind
Beneath a roof
And it gets so angry
And it gets so dirty
And it gets so hungry
It cannot move

It fear the bone for running roughshod through the muscle
And fear the muscle for the chokehold on the vein
It fear the vein for throwing red around the body
For throwing swelling round the guts and round the brain
And it don't move but when it move it move away, see,
It only separate and try take flight
But when it move it only move to meet the hunger
And swim in it every night

Become a goblin
in southern etc.

You shield your gaze against the laughter of your foreground
The fairground just outside
With the swells all dropping crumbs all worth a fortune
you could swipe 'em by the handful unespied
and you could decorate these old rotting rafters
with what's worth being hung so high
but you wouldn't if the gate were left wide open
and I think I know why

cuz you're a goblin

You cling to your chains like you need 'em
And fashion a burden of freedom
Underneath letters from roads you won't tread
Saying "where are you? We miss you - please get out of bed"
They sing in the distance, the futures from which you fled

You think your engine of delusion might recover
It don't.
You think you probably could roll over
You won't.
Because you're curled around a darling little sapling
The only apple of your evil eye

Deaf to shouted warnings all around you
"If it don't see light it dies."
Track Name: Up The Ghost
O Propulsion!
You thrum in the hangar
You're humming through Danger Zone, Skynrd, and Dre.
You curate a haze
Getting oiled up three ways
Til you're roaringly loosed on the day

And you circle the city
and think on how pretty
yr launchpad looks in the rust
And you're too circumspect to think
It all won't be wrecked but your erection will face down the dust.

O Abandon!
You hurtle from battle to battle
From Bottle to Bottle
You must.
You must be seen crushing
what there is to crush
til yr crushed, too, to glorious dust.
And I pout and I scowl and I kick gravel off the bridge
And hope that some of it lands in your food
Wishing too that the truth pulled me up by the root
to uproot
To uproot me for good.

forever, too
but also good.

And my long, lancet train
Hurtles upward and drains
All the red from the flesh of the coast
And the dead men I love
And the old men I loathe tell me
Give up the
Give up the ghost
Cuz I won't.

Oh I try, lord, to track
Try to chart you in packs
But, in fact, you're too many to spot
Out of cars, bars, and banks
Every door swells your ranks
When they're open, and when are they not?
And you howl down the town down the day
down the sound down the sun down the beach round all bends
And you boom in the canon
And ring in the hands
In the mouths of my well-meaning friends.

Boys will be boys!

You are right I won't dance
You are why I won't dance
you and disco pigs far worse than you
Still sweet ellie goulding echoes round the hall
singing lololove me like you do.
Love who?

You make a motto of the impulse that
Is summarized as
"Every Shot you didn't take is one that you missed"

Which makes a martyr of the reflex
where you pump the breaks
And give the other cars around the right to exist

You only YOLO
So you don't FOMO
And "No" is a thing you avoid
Who asks permission of the thing they destroy?
If it's a bad thing to do, they'll just say you're a boy being a boy

Though to most I'll deny I'll confide to the quiet
That you and I are the same kind
I, too, live in flashes
Burn moments to ashes
I, too, hold no shapes in my mind
But I wonder if you see the distinctions
Appreciate the differences in the disease
That is: whatever you will call incontinence
I call pissing wherever you please.

And my long, lancet train
Hurtles upward and drains
All the red from the flesh of the coast
And the dead men I love
And the old men I loathe tell me
Give up the
Give up the ghost
Cuz I won't.