warped asphalt ribbons and moldering foundations
the homes and hearths are gone, just weeds and rusted bathtub virgins
the old grey church upon the hill, it's cemetary fenced
in rusted iron stands sentinel, it's community past-tense
this road misses the passing cars, clicking by like insects.
it longs for spirits of the past to which it will never reconnect
the rails and the mines are stripped, the Bull's Head tavern derelict
no longer will they genuflect beneath the smoking spires
Some folks speak of acursed land,
for violence done by Mollys' hand
The legacy of Ignatitus' blight,
the village razed, too weak to fight
this is where she appears, in the dark of night
the flames of hell, below they lie,
waiting out the last to die
the spirits of the past survive
in veins of smouldering anthracite
this is where she appears, in the dark of night
Out past a mottled earthen mound lies the story of fallen town
told in painted missives on the cracked and blistered ground
professing lust and love and wit, ignorance and fear
they barely scratch the surface of the tragic tales here
"That which is not dead may enternal lie,
in strange aeaons, even death may die"
Great Old One slumbers restlessly, more so here than in the sea
The essence of those living here, is consumed further year by year
though Lovecraft never passed this place, his horrors here persist
Some folks speak of acursed land,
for violence done by Mollys' hand
The legacy of Ignatitus' blight,
the village razed, too weak to fight
this is where she appears, in the dark of night
the flames of hell, below they lie,
waiting out the last to die
the spirits of the past survive
in veins of smouldering anthracite
this is where she appears, in the dark of night
this slow burning conflagration ,this steadfast abrogation
suffocates the spirit as sure as any other cancer found within
This will eventually take me...This town will win
Some folks speak of acursed land,
for violence done by Mollys' hand
The legacy of Ignatitus' blight,
the village razed, too weak to fight
this is where she appears, in the dark of night
the flames of hell, below they lie,
waiting out the last to die
the spirits of the past survive
in veins of smouldering anthracite
this is where she appears, in the dark of night
A performer for more than 35 years, Chuck has filled many musical roles: heavy metal guitarist, singer/songwriter, jazz
sideman, open mic host, filk circle regular, and World’s Okayest Bassist™.
A regular on the con circuit, find him at open mics and backing up the Blibbering Humdingers!...more
supported by 7 fans who also own “This Is Where She Appears In Dark of Night”
This is my favorite album so far. I don't think I've ever felt as seen as when listening to "Mermaids and Queers." "Slytherins and Misunderstood" finally convinced my mom to embrace her Slytherin identity! loquita08
The new EP from Scottish songwriter Alec Bowman_Clarke goes deep, setting vulnerable lyrics to gentle melodies & stripped-back arrangements. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 30, 2021