music

More Fun With Charlie Zero

jdoublep, , , , 3 Comments

Earlier this year, C0 and I collaborated on some words and sounds.

We liked the results so much, we decided to put some more tracks together and – well – now we’ve got an EP out for you to dig on.

The name of the project is Sleep Sigil. The EP is entitled Hogwash Curses and you can listen to that mofo from your internet-connected device over at Bandcamp: https://sleepsigil.bandcamp.com/releases

Sleep Sigil

Let us know what you think. We’re excited to share the work with you.

More Fun With Charlie Zero

Wild Chickens In Hawai’i

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They got wild chickens in Hawai’i
They got robot cars on Mars
They got luminescent fish in the deep

They got meat made out of veggies
They got talking frigerators
But they ain’t found a way to keep you close to me

No, they ain’t found a way
No, they ain’t found a way
They ain’t found a way to keep you close to me

Oh, I wish that they might
Find a way to ground your flight
But they ain’t found no way that keeps you close to me

They got dogs that speak to humans
They got kitties using toilets
They got pills that make the sour things turn sweet

They got doorbells always watching
They got facial recognition
But they ain’t found a way to keep you close to me

No, they ain’t found a way
No, they ain’t found a way
They ain’t found a way to keep you close to me

Oh, I wish that they found
Some way to keep you hanging ’round
But they ain’t found no way that keeps you close to me

Yeah, they got pillows that play music
They got millions of flavors
They got light to whiten up your crooked teeth

They got islands getting drowned
And they got countries a’fire
But they ain’t found no way that keeps you close to me

No, they ain’t found a way
No, they ain’t found a way
They ain’t found a way to keep you close to me

Oh, I wish that they would
Find a way to keep you here for good
But they ain’t found that way to keep you close to me

They ain’t found a way to keep you close to me
They ain’t found a way to stop you being free
No, they ain’t found a way to tell you how to be

They ain’t found way

Never gonna find a way

That might make you stay

They ain’t found a way to keep you close to me

Wild Chickens In Hawai’i

The Boy, Crying

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The old woman,
with gnarled hand,
passed the dark vial
over the threshold.

Inside the fount,
a rank substance, vile,
terrifying the young boy
whose hands gripped it tight.

The giving of the vial
was the final sign
that the old woman
was about to die.

The boy stood
at the door, crying
with his eyes wide open.

The boy
had a bandage
on the top
of his head.

The old woman,
with tall body
and large scar
crossing her face,

her gauzy, grey eyes
focused on forgetting.

She pulled the bandage
off of the boy’s head.
From the foul wound
protruded a string.

The old woman pulled
the thin, wispy string
and the little boy cried
aloud in dismay.

She pulled at the string
until a small, silver stick
came out of his head.
It was a rare instrument.

“You’re supposed to play it
just once, fair and free!”
the old lady shouted
with authority.

“I can’t possibly
be responsible
for any mishaps!”

The boy was frightened,
yet he dare not make a move.

“You’re supposed to play it now!”
she frantically yelled,
“Stop wasting time.
Play or die and play well!”

The young boy stared
helplessly
sobbing,
shaking, unsure.

And when he looked up
at the woman once more…

Such an old woman,
with her grey, saucer eyes
and what frightening grin
came then to her face.

The young man stared
in salt-stained disbelief.
She was so beautiful,
his talented wife.

So he played the silver stick
and he played it some more
and he left the little boy
crying there at the door.

The Boy, Crying