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The Ballad of the Brows and the Beard

by The Silver Spoon Union

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1.
I don't want to fight another day with you 'Cause dignity is always something you beat me to Only if my apathy wasn't true Then I could sleep at night next to you Maybe in a world without police We'll finally stop saying guns help keep our peace And screw your stupid morals, and your stupid lease If you think your Audi's helping people on the streets Down, down, down at the park Anarchy will give the homeless a start And the people who drive those Mercedes will tear the park apart And help them down into a new heart Motors on the sidewalk, radiators in the alley It's not sunny for everyone in Cali Well you better know that if you live in the San Fernando Valley Cardboard writing brings hope to a finale People die every single day They open fire and we look away Right now, I am desperately begging you to stay But you march in front of cops anyway
2.
Tattoo Song 02:29
I want to be the next illustrated man Better than Ray Bradbury could have planned Don't have a story for every tattoo I just put them on me to confuse you I want a tattoo of Don Quixote fighting the windmills And one of Alexander the Great I want a tattoo of an eye on my ankle And on my shin, hell's gate I want a tattoo of Dante's Inferno - yeah the whole book and I want it tattoo'd on my spleen And on my arm I want "FDT" You better know what that means I want to be the next illustrated man Better than Ray Bradbury could have planned Don't have a story for every tattoo Some are just meant to confuse you I want a tattoo of a lawnmower on my head So if I go bald, we can laugh I want two ostriches on a table Sawing a man in half I want a tattoo of In N Out fries So if I get hungry I can cannibalize I want to be the next illustrated man Better than Bradbury could have planned Don't have a story for every tattoo Some are just meant to confuse you Actually, I've always had one, I just noticed it too late It says: "Property of State" No wonder we think suicide is evil When property damage is illegal
3.
Said we'd visit every Cinnabon from here to Phoenix Tossed your gum from the car - knew that I would be next Cause your bare feet on the dash say that you're strong and free So it begs the goddamn question of what you're doing with me And your thick brown hair was short and sweet The second hottest thing in that dry Sonoran heat Saw a field of flowers by the side of the road Seeing you amongst the poppies - greatest thing I've ever known I took hundreds of pictures, as if to make it seem That this sunbathed moment was ever more than a dream The golden light and the way the wind ruffled your dress God damn I swear you could hear my heart beat in my chest One single thought seemed to cloud my view Knowing these were the last pictures I'd ever take with you Couldn't help thinking our best days were behind us When we ran away so no-one else could find us Woke up in a cheap motel, saw you staring at the ceiling Didn't need to say a single word, you gave me that sinking feeling You were gonna leave, I always knew to be true But now I'm just not sure how much I ever meant to you The cops in Blythe know exactly who you are Guess that's what happens when you ditch your lover And drive off With their car
4.
Jerry 02:23
I stopped trusting things Lying on the tracks I wait for the train to come But I know I'm not coming back now Brutal fucking days People just hurt And the seeds you plant grow But they all lose your worth I'm not gonna fight you But I forgive you for having a pulse I'm not gonna key your car But I'm gonna hope you meet someone worse than me in every way Whose fed-up apathy Causes them to And destroy your fucking infinity They're laughing on the streets Staring at the sky Wondering why Jerry passed them all by With rag mask - black cloth Covering his mouth And the anti-fa back patch To show what he's about He went to the NSA To delete all their files Got into his car And wasn't seen for miles He sleeps on the roof of his Toyota Pioneer Staring at the Mojave The night grew near Did he die in the desert? Did he get lined up and shot? Either way, does it matter? If you're asking or talking He's not available for interview anymore He went off the map And he's not the uni-bomber type Except he's never coming back Did they send him to Canada? Is he lying at the bottom of the sea? Regardless, the point is: Don't speak or it'll happen to me Keep your mouth shut Look me in the eyes Be sure to sit up straight Don't you dare think of running or fighting Know that you will never make it out alive
5.
Men in Masks 01:59
Used to call myself Don Quixote Now people say Don Juan I might not be a good mariachi But you sure as hell'd make a worse one I wear a mask in the evening, morning and at night Make sure you see me clearly I have a full costume closet that I made myself Or at least most of it, can you hear me? Staring out this prison window Too many people to heal, but At least next time you try to take my fucking hat I know one of us won't make it out alive Funny how comic books taught us to trust People who wear masks I can't even trust myself At least, that is if you ask It's hard to love a man with so much pain in his eyes You know how testosterone lies Next time you dress up in armor, Make sure you give me a ring I'll meet you anyplace Anywhere Anytime You know that's the thing
6.
Well, you've never seen a roadside quite as dead as this I'm riding six or seven hours just waiting for your kiss I'd rather be safe at home doing what I enjoy But I'm heading west from Los Banos - Going to Gilroy I step outside and taste the garlic in the air Somewhere underneath the bitter stench of despair I dunno if this trip's just another clever ploy But I'll shut my eyes and force a smile - Going to Gilroy Paul told me bus rides were romantic as hell But after hours on the five, that's a pretty hard sell If I knew I'd interrupt your life, I never would've come here And what you'd say when I arrive, it's a tough thing to hear it's what I get for saying I'd always be your boy So by your dime or mine, I'm - Going to Gilroy Cheap fresh fruit, you can buy it by the ton By this time tomorrow night, I'll be completely undone 'Cause the truths that you tell are worse than the lies And you're done with me, I can see it in your eyes Thought I had the dignity to say I'm not just your toy But instead I'm on a Greyhound - Going to Gilroy
7.
8.
Mau$ 02:48
Curse every damn man Who stepped foot in Disneyland Jesus died at mickeys feet Crucified with a shopping bag And in the hot sierra heat The mouse gave his corpse a price tag No one knows the pains and throws That deserved the harsh blows To Cinderella's castle besieged with Plebeian arrows Coming from our gas pipe bows And we'll bust in to the poker game Mr toad is having with the mad hatter And smash his head on the platter Stopping their bougie ass chatter For the innocence they sold me Is nothing more than hegemony(poisoned conformity) Shackling every princess in her castle And made girls lives a living hassle And of course our friend Walt has been nice to Black and Brown alike Making us the dumb and dirty Bird, monkey, dog and stereotype But at least he gives us the task of making merchandise 14 hours a day With bleeding hands - that's nice So as we drunk fistfight The seven dwarves And shatter the mirror and the drawers Throw one magic apple through a window for me Because I'll take every fast pass And paper mache me a fantasy world without class Then I'll tie Mickey to a mast And yell Praise be The mouse is dead People can finally be fed Hang his head Tell kids better stories before bed Freedom damn don't be afraid The mouse no longer has your brain Were always kids under the strain Violence gone we have so much left to gain And yell Praise be The mouse is dead People can finally be fed Hang his head Tell kids better stories before bed
9.
10.
Try 04:06
I go to sleep thinking I don't wanna wake up So what do you say We don't go to sleep today And drive 100 miles To the nearest state park And pretend we're big old bears And get lost in the dark In the morning we'll wake up And start a long trek To our home Not like dogs More like birds We'll make one on our own Because every shopping cart Is a Cadillac At the right time of night And I've never seen anyone Really win A late night alley fight I learned to love my feet Over a year ago And sometimes I still call you But I always get dial tones And Danny I miss you Now that your in Mexico At least I work with your dad on cars And protest that you're all alone This ones for Leivi Who doesn't like NA And you know I'd take you Any day Even though you don't have much to say This ones for Timmy I hope you're in a better place I think it's beautiful that you wanted To learn to play the bass Now, this ones for grandpa I'm glad you can't yell at her anymore But sometimes I still want you to Walk in that pub door I gave up love on a Monday And I gave up on trust a day after that The one thing I never regretted Was trusting in Pat I gave up god on a Saturday So I wouldn't have to wake up for church I never trusted crosses anyway I knew they were meant to hurt So this ones for Danny This ones for Leivi This ones for Timmy And me This ones for Jacob And for Isaijah, Hrag And my dog Chili It's sorry to my dad Sorry to mi madre And especially to me And every day I wake up What I see: This one's to all the things I made with my hands That will never learn to fly But throwing them out the widow I can see how hard they try
11.
D0n Qu!jote 03:12
She caught bullets in her teeth And wind in her hair No one saw saw her fight windmills About the war in the streets Our wallets and minds Left him so starved He started reading the times And the books and the blogs saying they weren't giants But brokers make broke And screw over their clients So he gets up from his desk and he rides for a claim To somehow forget The worlds in pain She walked into the courtroom And just passed the cops When She dawned her armor And yelled for them to stop At the red and blue lights Go at the green Shout loud with your signs So they know what you mean When you look in their eyes They love to charge you They try to burn your bookshelf body Because they can't stand you The crime was seeing what they showed At the trial they trembled at your name Don Quijote You're insane She walked to the courthouse She wasn't alone On the street shes the judge wearing Molotov cologne
12.
I'm just looking to get out of this town Probably not today I'm not good at getting golden tickets That doesn't matter I'll find a way I started collecting mail Just to praise the mail man Soon I'll become an arsonist Because I've always liked firemen And I can say tonight I'm not The entrepreneur full throttle But I'll invent a way out of the bottom of this bottle Blurred vision Is still more focused than the Fucking ICE And goddam them and their families Because they're all a threat to me (all a threat to me) I'd rather fuck each other Then fuck the government Because I heard Capitalist cops and coups are Bad at pillow talk And I'm sick of your plan for The rest of my life Maybe I don't want a job Kids or rent or a trophy wife And I'm sorry about all the metaphors I'm tired of shit being hammered into me. But this is simile I promise I won't get better In addition to socialism Sex always takes the pain away
13.
I gave up love on a Monday and I'm feeling just fine Time to look the other way 'Cause I know that I'm out of time See, it's you and me At least it wasn't meant to be But I don't give a shit right now I wish you saw it the other way I wish you had the time to stay But I get it, don't worry I don't see a hurry Love is made just right Sucked on a Monday Sent me to the broker I'd rather set up with a stick and a poker In hell Y'know I'd rather fight in the alley The cats I fought on a Monday as well Talked to the broker today To see if I could live my life on a good wage Now my retirement plan is a twelve gauge And I say, "Hey, you staying up till the morning? Won't you come down? It's pouring Outside." The California sun And New York won't fund Don't you see, San Francisco State ain't right Dream tonight Dream tomorrow Ain't no way to cut the sorrow In half Nice to see things I've left on my desk Tonight It's alright

about

Love isn't really a clear or obvious thing. Sure, we may think we feel it when we're in love, but I'm with Stendhal in saying that we are incredibly good at deceiving ourselves in regards to love. When I fell in love the first time, I came at it from a very skeptical place: I knew that I had deceived myself, I knew that I wasn't really in love. I knew that I had just projected all sorts of qualities onto this person because, I suppose, it's what we do. Four years later, when I entered into a relationship with that person, I knew one thing: I was wrong before. I really was in love - er, well, whatever that means. To say that I was ever in love, or was just deceiving myself... well, it oversimplifies the issue to make it so black and white. Rather, I think there is no distinction between crystallization and true, actual love. Maybe I'm taking a bit from Rorty here too, but I would say that love is love, once you call it that... and it's up to you and your partner to really keep that going. Instead of seeing love as some magnificent /thing/ (for it isn't a thing at all), I would suggest that love is instead a way of thinking about somebody - a willingness to see the good in them, to ignore their faults, and certainly, to project qualities unto them which you find yourself to be lacking. I think the pursuit of some sort of "true love" is misleading, because I think it's much more important to find people with whom you can have good times, have deep conversations and share in closeness and intimacy. I think that there is a tendency to /fall/ in love, to lose oneself in the act of idealizing someone beyond who they could ever be... and I'd rather we didn't /fall/ in love, but embraced love with an emotional album, a cup of ice water and a deep hug.

“Albert Camus wrote that the only serious question is whether to kill yourself or not.
Tom Robbins wrote that the only serious question is whether time has a beginning and an end.
Camus clearly got up on the wrong side of bed, and Robbins must have forgotten to set the alarm.
There is only one serious question. And that is: Who knows how to make love stay?
Answer me that and I will tell you whether or not to kill yourself.
...
When the mystery of the connection goes, love goes. It's that simple. This suggests that it isn't love that is so important to us but the mystery itself. The love connection may be merely a device to put us in contact with the mystery, and we long for love to last so that the ecstacy of being near the mystery will last. It is contrary to the nature of mystery to stand still. Yet it's always there, somewhere, a world on the other side of the mirror (or the Camel pack), a promise in the next pair of eyes that smile at us. We glimpse it when we stand still.
The romance of new love, the romance of solitude, the romance of objecthood, the romance of ancient pyramids and distant stars are means of making contact with the mystery. When it comes to perpetuating it, however, I got no advice. But I can and will remind you of two of the most important facts I know:
1. Everything is part of it.
2. It's never too late to have a happy childhood.”
--Tom Robbins

~ Alors que le mouvement grossit / il y aura des méandres et des collines / Mais, au centre de la lutte / Sont vos amoureux et vos amis / Plus nous nous soutenons mutuellement / Moins nous pourrions être influencé / À l'amour et la solidarité / Et un baiser derrière les barricades ~

For me, music has always played a deeply emotional role - a feeling isn't ever just a feeling for me, it is also a song, and vice versa. There's nothing more remarkable to me than making music, because there is always an infinite set of information which is condensed into a song - information which only the artist can know, and information which only the listener can know. We each add our own interpretation to music, and in that way, its meaning is created through its interpretation - and somehow we're back to Rorty (but with a hearty helping of Nietzsche). Thus, when an artist makes a song, they can never know how truly important it can be, and what it can truly mean, because that meaning is created in the hearts and minds of the audience.

"That's the most intelligent use of three wishes I ever heard of... You made sure you'd still have something worth wishing for--to get out of the cage."
~ Vonnegut

-- Slavery is murder / Property is theft --
We can thank Proudhon for that one

credits

released May 1, 2017

The Silver Spoon Union is:
Diego Share-Vargas - Lyrics, Vocals, Guitar, Guiro, Tambourine
Isaijah Johnson - Lyrics, Vocals, Accordion, Bass

Recorded early 2017 in a bedroom in Winnetka and a den in Encino
Released May Day 2017

To our friends and fellow punks:
Never let those windmills get the best of you
Keep loving / Keep fighting

For Vivi, with fish spirits surrounding you

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The Silver Spoon Union Los Angeles, California

San Fernando Valley folk-punks. Something like Pat the Bunny mixed with the Mountain Goats.

If folk-punk is wrong, I don't want to be right

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