sweet eleanor
don't hang your hat where you hang your head
sweet eleanor
throw the book back at them
lets fall asleep on a pile of leaves
you have sewn up your sleeve
slow company
and if the others go on strike
get on with the night
all the hands that you bit
are quite used to it
blowing into the sails like little kids do
the shelf life of each thought is so pale in the scope of the room
each pedal smells stale to the breadth of the bloom
blowing into the sails like land lubbers do
sweet eleanor
i'm pulling it together
i'm gonna shave my brain
sweet eleanor
can't tell worse from better
it's just a change in frame
think i was born on the fence
somewhere between Buddha and William Tell
one boot is sworn to the trench
the other is running like hell
This collection of six fiddle songs is dark in color and mood, with Mattrey treating her instrument with ghostly digital effects. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 26, 2021