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The high vocals panned to the left and right were supposed to be for female singers, but the two I had in mind couldn't get it down in the very small window I gave them to learn it. I ended up doing it myself, with some creative pitch-shifting after the fact to raise it up to the right place.

This song is pretty much an homage to Jason Robert Brown, who wrote the best musical ever, called "Parade." Definitely borrowed (i.e. ripped off; with love) the "let the rain fall down" thing from him. <3<3

lyrics

Let the snow fall down.
Let it take from us warmth of our soul.
Let the rain fall down.
Let it wash us of all our emptiness.
Let the sun burn down,
Keep its children warm.
And if it gets too close,
May it burn us all.

Let the Earth shake,
Open wide.
Let it swallow us; amen.
(So we can be so warm, again and again)
Let the wind blow,
Shake the leaves,
Of the dying trees.
(So they can move one last time)

Let the heavens pardon us,
For our selfish deeds.
If we get too small watching from above,
May you send your hand, down through the sky.
May we give our lives,
Taking others from their own heathen ways and
Cleanse this land, strong and pure.
Hear me (a-men),
We’ve got time to spend searching for all the
Devil’s work, and still we deny it.
We deny his capacity to take even the ones we love.

Bless your mother's heart, we knew that it was her time,
How quickly she disappeared,
And let us keep her alive for he wants us to forget.
Let us hear of her sins so we can learn why she's gone and
Let us take to our own lives, the lessons she has passed on.
So be grateful that she has left us,
For we know not what could happen,
If we give ourselves, and the company we keep, up to temptation.

May the darkness of my soul, stay within me lord.
If it comes again, oh the guilt I bear.
Keep my daughter safe within your hands.

(Take me, take me.)

Won't you come for me, won't you take me home.
When I took her life, how she bled for you.
How the devil takes over everyone.

(Come to my house, to my front door, and strike me down for evermore).

I've got a wife but I don't love her, a child I don't know.
She's smitten with a monster, and a monster's keeping her at home.
Oh, your mother was an angel; her heart was laced with gold.
Her thoughts were always of you, but the devil came, or so you're told,
And he controlled her secrets, and made her keep his own.
But the knife that took her sorrow was held in my firm hands and oh,
The guilt I feel, the guilt I feel, the guilt I feel, the sorrow I can't bear.

Death, how she bled for me. Oh, how I bleed for you.

credits

from The Pottsville Conglomerate, released July 5, 2011

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Pete Davis Princeton, New Jersey

zany folk music for nerds

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