Benjamin Allain's Page

this house is quiet i live on a diet of beans and potatoes

i steal from my neighbors

field mice chew holes in my goddamn roof

this house it creeks and the cieling leaks

muddy water

we're right into the pottery

 

we dig we dig we dig

 

this house is lonely ain;t ya ever gonna show me in?

this house is lonely ain't ya ever gonna show me in?

be a hand-quilt and covering

this house is old and the owner sold it piece by piece and headed east

this house it creeks and the cieling leeks

muddy water

we're right into the pottery

 

we dig

and nobody hears us nobody hears us

dig

 

this house is 

quiet i live on a diet of beans and potatoes

i steal from my neighbors field

mice chew holes in my goddamn roof

the mouse before was a little sore on eyesight

and he became a liar liar

set the house on a stick and when you get the mouse sick

the cat just sits

when you get the mouse sick, the cat just sits in my room.

 

this house it creeks and the ceiling leaks

muddy water

 

old boneskin house

yeah we got the treelines, never used them
all day long in the dust of chapel pews
ya came in like a three day bruise
and everybody knows that you're mother got you in.

maybe we weren't yet finished with the skin
a house of bones aint nothin' in this kind of wind

yeah we got the fishhooks, never used them
two rusty virgins and a rope in a rum run
you left the end with a dead appaloosa
and everybody knows that you never brought it in.

maybe we weren't yet finished with the skin
a house of bones aint nothin in this wind

yeah we got the farmhouse, and we use it
the booze in the rafters from the father and his son
you came in with the cat and the rooster
everybody knows that you never went to swim

maybe we weren't yet finished with the skin
a house of bones aint nothin in this wind
we werent yet finished with the skin
you give a dead fly to a dog just to watch it spin.

we weren't done with the buckskin rug or the coonskin hat or the elephant

ask the buffalo

if i was a thief; if i was a turncoat
if i was a rat i'd walk the river
and the river would wash me back
but i nevered and then she poured.

how can you give a man a monsoon lyin' on the bedroom floor?

been to west like a donkey on
a pony line
lined up naked
for the pleasure
of the kind but i never said i sold.

how can you give a man a monsoon lyin' on the bathroom floor?

are you cold now
ain't it better as a pleasant ghost?
if you ask me i always
ask the buffalo

if i was an uncle, if i was a father or if i was a ghost
i'd wear the crown (not the garland) on my toe
but i never said i would go.

if i was a bitter-lipped bastard on a three hand game
one's a loser; one's nothin'; one should never'a came
i never said i sold.

how can you give a man a monsoon lyin' on the bathroom floor.


the sound at the end is our neighbour maya.

A Worn Out Woman's Clothes

now woman now woman dont ya come a round
there's a fire and the whole place is burnin' down
but i guess you couldn't tell by the look of his face the kind of shoes he laced

now mothers don't ya bother to look around
take it as a little favour for your feeding the hounds
but i guess you couldn't tell by the look of his face the kind of shoes he laced

and it goes like the home sweet dreary does
and it goes like a worn out woman or a worn out womans clothes
it goes

now mister don't you kiss her till you hear the tune
you lost it all for the antlers (exploded balloons)
but i guess you couldn't tell by the look in her eyes the kinds of things she's tried
and i guess you couldn't tell by the look of his face the kind of shoes he laced

and it goes like the home sweet dreary does
and it goes like a worn out woman or a worn out womans clothes
it goes

put me in the gospels (and pay me minimum wage)

put it on the table it's a pentecostal night
all the ones with moons for faces never lost a fight
leave it to a woman lost along the way
autumns on the corner baby summer's on its way

put it on the radio, sing it in the breeze
let it come and let it go but let it introduce my pleas:
i will preach poetic like a hellhound on its way
put me in the gospels and pay me minimum wage

it's a goddamn revelry it's a pentecostal night
the woman in the womb who said "well he didn't make me right;
no, he watches for a minute and he's gone before you know
one will get ya money and two will get ya the show."

put it on the radio, sing it in the breeze
let it come and let it go but let it introduce my pleas:
i will preach poetic like a hellhound on its way
put me in the gospels and pay me minimum wage

all the fishermen preach dead and poetic like an old time eulogy they heard before
and this is not historical like they said this is just another cash grab monday morning.

put it on the radio, sing it in the breeze
let it come and let it go but let it introduce my pleas:
i will preach poetic like a hellhound on its way
put me in the gospels and pay me minimum wage

i will get old

well i was a young one, everything has blew
the oily greasy win one and drip the oily suit
branches on the maple needles on the pine
the roots crawl through the dirt of a little boys mind

and if the leaves get cold and blow away the stone
i will get old

walked the road to a dozen stones laid bare
in front of all the olden and crooked little stairs
in the road of islands, riverbanks and streams\
the intestines of the giants and the crowns on all of the queens

and if the crowns not gold and the oily things don't roll
i will get old

over all the houses oily greasy things
wolves will crack the howl at anything with wings

and if the wings get folded
all the grease wont go
and if the leaves get cold
and blow away the stone
i will get old

ocean ocean



oh welcome to the top of the racepile
you're finally on a show!
you seen the king lose and sink in dirt
you seen the queen in the snow
before she leaves she says eleven words
she cackles just like a nun
"bein a widow wouldnt be fun unless everything was slow motion"

ocean ocean cradle my home, the island's built for the sun
it is the father and the mothers the atlantic water
and we're the kids with the gun

you call that memory an elegant letter
(you call the letter a word)
you the company that mated a witch to give to both of the herds

its a party its a sinful sight
she speaks and the crackles come all night
bein a sinner shouldnt be fun
you ought to stop that damn commotion

ocean ocean cradle my home, the island's built for the sun
it is the father and the mothers the atlantic water
and we're the kids with the gun

don quixote on a windmill cathedral couldnt be so proud
damn the animals and damn all the people
the queen got up off the ground
before she leaves she says eleven words
she dusts off and she run
"bein a widow wouldnt be fun unless everything was slow motion"

ocean ocean cradle my home, the island's built for the sun
it is the father and the mothers the atlantic water
and we're the kids with the gun

virginia tobacco:

i am an appaloosa district of no one honour
i travel onward with my wayward doe
we are the ones you see at dusk and on your honour
we are the children that you know
and we were not the little ones for sale your honour
we travel onward with the ice and snow
and then we go with all the wandrin leaves your honour
we are the children and we go

and a sweet voice is singing us on
oh baby look at all the evil we done
and i got a big sack of virginia tobacco if you got my ticket home

oom ba da ba

i am an outlaw loose, the island of crete your honour
we are the victim of the southern blow
and on the island when we said that we made it honour
we made it far as we could go
she is an outlaw loose a maiden of nowhere honour
we travel onward with our heap in our boat
and like the sea will be eventually blue your honour
we are the children that you know

i am an apple loose they picked in an orchard honour
and when they picked me well that got no right
and in the autumn when they go to the burning honour
we are the children of the tide
and then well walk into the big big lake your honour
and in the fields and then we play in the hay
and in the straw where all the failures hung your honour...

we are the children that you made.