Cats of Ashes

by Salvage My Dream

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about

Written, recorded and mixed 2009-2011 in houses, flats and studios between Scarborough and Pontefract, Yorkshire, England.

Music, production and artwork by Robin Fisher except:

Ian Fisher: Violin on '120 Roll'
James Nicholls: Violin on 'Meander' and 'Cats of Ashes'
Lawrence Menard: Suitcase organ on 'Your Runaway Clothes...' and 'Stupid Tattoo', harmonica on 'Cats of Ashes'

Additional recording engineers:
Greg "integral" Johnson, Lawrence Menard, James Nicholls

Thanks to everyone who helped out in making this happen. Your assistance is appreciated more than you know.

Front: i46.photobucket.com/albums/f138/salvagemydream/CatsofAshesfront.jpg
Back: i46.photobucket.com/albums/f138/salvagemydream/CatsofAshesback.jpg

credits

released 30 December 2011

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license

Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.

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Track Name: Your Runaway Clothes And The Dying Diamonds of Your Mind
You took the city to the sea
Think its pretty, think of me
We rack them up, but shit was never good enough
The stuff wasn’t good enough
And you said,
“Oh my little failure, is there something in your eye
Your tongue is wrapped around a boulder, here just take my final line
And you can tell me that you love me just to touch me in the night
You’re such a guy
But who am I”
Track Name: Dud
Oh my friend you were beaten again
By a baseball cap in the school field
You left at fifteen, kicked the wind with your feet
And your summer soles were left with whipped cream
And you kept your sick lizards in a shoebox you found
And doctored them until they gave out
You said it’s a rough place to go but your face didn’t show it
As we put the box into the ground
Maybe there’s a song in it

Your father’s lawsuit almost cost him the house
So you left your home without his name
Pulled up some favours from barely seen strangers
And grew some new branches on your tree
Oh the days slip through fingers and no money is ripe
And your old teeth split seams in the night
Sifting through puzzles left jagged each piece
Maybe there’s a heart in this dream

It comes with the freedom we pretend we know
Days a-hum, days a-hum, fading free
Its foggy, it blows down each fork in the road
Let the coin choose the move in your feet
And you’ll sleep desperately about once every week
And eat little or nothing for food
And you don’t leave the room, you say the papers they prove
That the ground is only there to be removed
Oh the ground is only there to be removed

You’re in danger
Grave danger
Turn on the light before you start to disappear

I hear some things
You won’t come to heal
Born in a cell
Dad’s armed robbery
I pray to think one day you’ll be free
Oh free, free, get free.
Track Name: The Endless Trail of The Stray Dog’s Tale
Hey son, the puppies sold. They’ve gone to their new home but don’t worry, don’t worry, they’ll be alright. Chewing through the plastic cracks, they ran as we exchanged the cash. We rode around for hours and found nothing.

Duelling with suburban cats. Eating meals from garbage bags. But don’t worry, don’t worry, they will be alright. Don’t worry, don’t worry, they know how to fight. Made some friends at the halfway house. Slept on a crusted couch. But don’t worry, don’t worry, they’ll be warm at night. Don’t worry, don’t worry, they will be alright. Raiding the butchers shack. One keeps a lookout while the others attack. Oh don’t worry, don’t worry, they will stay alive. Don’t worry, don’t worry son they’ll be alright. Fell asleep on an old freight train. Woke up in a London drain. But don’t worry, they’ll hurry and they’ll keep aflight. Don’t worry, don’t worry they will be alright.

Oh they do not need any other way to destroy themselves in this hopeless game and they hold the road like a broken sword with their broken bones and their homeless thoughts.

Sang songs with a busking man, stealing money from his guitar bag. But don’t worry, don’t worry, they were in hard times. Don’t worry, don’t worry, it won’t happen twice. Fell in with a bad crowd. Dealing drugs just to fill their mouths. But don’t worry, they’ll make it through another night. Don’t worry, don’t worry, it’ll be alright. They made a split, they left for dead. On the run from the pound again. But don’t worry, don’t worry, they know how to hide. Don’t worry, don’t worry they will be alright, be alright.

Oh they do not need any other way to destroy themselves in this hopeless game and they hold the road like a broken sword with their broken bones and their homeless thoughts.

Johnny left at daybreak, and Jamie moved down under, and Reece fled the industry to move out to the suburbs and its going round town that his body was found. Lawrence held a bank heist and got away with Peter. They sped down to the border but they couldn’t pay the meter. They say jails pretty fine, yeah they write me all the time. Damian and Liam ended on the railroad track, and David ended violently from a fatal heart attack, and Chile’s in the zone, locked up in the mental home. Jay’s a freedom seeker and Greg’s a fascist leader, and Marianne and Arianne took to the street set theatre. Mike and Martin duelled it out ‘til they were both put in the ground. Nick went down for DUI and never got to fly, and Dale’s mind dissolved in another acid binge last night, and Catherine stowed away on a plane out of LA. Niall plays the basement jazz in a smoked filled down town bar, and Jazz fell with his old addictions and sold his last guitar. Hannah’s still out breaking hearts, yeah she tore old Paul apart. Jam and Joe and Robbie drove and busted out the boys, opened fire on the prison guards and blew out all the walls. Oh and Emily packed in and was never seen again. Abi made a movie and Beth helped with the shooting, and Stephanie roams around taking pictures of dead bodies. And Craig lives in the street, cardboard boxes on his feet. And Alex and Alli and Andrey and Ashley and Benjamin and Daron all live out in the country. Jack and George are racing carts, playing records in the dark. Ian’s orchestration is sweeping through the nation and he makes a bit of money selling music out for favours. Oh he’s helped me once or twice when my time was in a vice. And Katie and Guy and Olivia and Gerald and Roo and Leah. Don’t ask me what they’re doing, since that day I’ve never seen them. Oh it certainly was a journey with each branch another story moving forwards every morning and I guess that’s something like how it all happened.
Track Name: Meander
Blacked out at back of the old museum, I get my endings freed. Another cube-cared cub come tripping up older and older and older and older. And it feels like nothing you see, and and I’m seeing nothing in feeling recent recently anyway. But the museum didn’t put the timeline in perspective like I thought it would.

Held out a lot of screaming today and the headaches and 2CB impulses won’t go away. Some headaches seem to start in the feet and climb up through the bones to meet the mouth down in the concrete. They make a room where nothing comes true, society is out of bounds and the fall is forever deep. Caught in the kithen pushing knives through your skin and you can’t put it down on paper and you can never sleep. Got no intention but still burning intent, blessed with bursting beginnings only to finish in flickering ends. Still finger-twitching paper-tearing in the fact that it happened.

The kids play the front road, close all the windows. Travel south of the day, spitting teeth down the drain and medicate into a haze before the final vacate.

A full moon, a raincoat, some change for the pay phone. I got no plans, just move through land marks and pretend this house will never be a home again.

Pull out the pages, pull out the roots. Don’t get sick just, just get sorry you ever attempted the truth. Don’t get suckered in basements breathing the fumes of an unwritten inkling of something of use that you’re pulling from pretense, pretending its you when its all that you need to cut out and remove. I get sick of this shit, it serves no real use and I’m taking a match and lighting the fuze. Let it all boil out, let it hang from the clouds, as we lower the coffin down into the crowd. But I’ll wake up tomorrow and feel kinda new, and I’ll probably begin on writing this through.
Track Name: Going Transparent
Here's an empty evening mind
Aim it out
Fire breath, another empty bed
A vicious fable for the empty kitchen table
Waiting for the heat to writhe
And rise up blind to bind the bed
To sit awake in overtime

Pennies paid the camera grey
Grow, exhale
Queue in with the absent fools
Hoping for something else to lose
To loosen off a debt of favours
Days of bad behaviours
Bet it in
Indigo and truth
There's something I can prove within

Hunger up the placid eyes
Pulverise
Oncoming fields of future friction
Tread it under foot and it will
Slide from wild to silent sounded
Under the pressure pounding
But is this good news for those of you
Who feed off conflict in your boots
Track Name: 120 Roll
Brittle fingers slipped around a pen and the bus drove through the cornfield with the morning taste of coffee, early sun only a lightbulb hanging loosely in our house lamp, a ring of dead moths rung around it. Took a camera, wound the film spool, clicked the shutter, thought non of it. A few months passed, a phonecall and a short walk to the centre. They said “Hey son, here’s your album, check out this one, it’s a keeper”. I was stunned, I didn’t know exactly what it said but it emanated some kind of truth. Something about life and death and what you love will some day destroy you.

I revisited the scene, the old machine was bent and stood there splintered, and peered over into the basket to get a glimpse of what I’d just witnessed. The moths crumbled into dust like cigarette ash as I held them in my fingers, but they were immortalised on a film spool destined to live on forever, or be to dead on forever. There was no difference I could see. Either way these little insects died to help the rest of us see a little more clearly. But they would never know the message and I guess that’s some cruel twist of fate but then maybe these insects were lucky to have only a few brain cells to their name.

A glass was poured and dreams were formed, some evening hollowed out ready to pen those thousand words they say each picture can pronounce. But the paper gave me headaches and the pen would not put out, and then the lamp began to flicker before the power shorted out. I scrambled over low lit floors and swiped a box of matches, lightning candles in some frantic dance, the flames rose through the ashes. Was this just too much to be going for, just too much to be asking from the night and from this picture, was this the hard truth I was masking. Hell no, the pen was grabbed and something scribbled down on this page, a flickered spark, just anything to stop the blankness burning holes deep in the brain. I pulled my eyelids from my eyes in hope to see just what it said and to my horror it read something like ‘Just stop, this page is meaningless, and my dearest friend you are a failure, this is the worst kind of excuse, why can’t you face your pain head on, put it to some artistic use. You’re just a worm, stare at that picture until it slaps you in the face.’ Now I was grasping for the vodka in some panic stricken state.

And as the liquid hit the glass the lightning lit the picture out and I swear that through the thunder I could see the moths fly out. I just gasped and dropped my glass, spewing vodka at the mouth. The chair gave way, the flames grew tall and I was close to passing out. So I took a last drink of angel piss and threw it at the flames, grabbed the picture and the paper, dragged my laughing self away. I laid there in the street to watch my house go up in flames where I laughed and threw up some more, and fell unconscious in the rain.

Yeah these insects were lucky to have only their cruel twist of fate.
Track Name: Stupid Tattoo
Kicking flesh, grasping breath, on the edge of your birth
And killer insects and parasites wake up go to work
Get disease just to kill them while they’re sipping your blood
And then you’ve wasted it all to die anyway,
But at least you’ve won

Get a job, fuck your head, make it dead, make it work
Smoke with rats under caps, hearts don’t work, hearts don’t work
They were dead before they hit maternity ward
Can’t be saved and can’t be tamed
Kill ‘em all

Live in planning, live in memory, live in anywhere but now
Stick your smile on with velcro, and never use your real mouth
It’s the rage of our age to only speak with the clothes you wore out
Track Name: Loose Floorboards
I’m losing what I really need
A fucked up friend between the sheets
Flipping around all over the ground, all over the ground, all over the ground
Happy

Tokens spent for the day dream, won’t get into heaven
Slide it from your skin and crash out on the pavement
Hard turns into hollow, take a seed and swallow
Lets the roots sink in and push onto tomorrow

Every morning I go to sleep
Put an old jumper on and take a seat
With the furniture facing outwards from the middle of the room
And play cassette tapes in the corner

Oh I don’t think this appointment can last
Living on cold mix and counterfeit cash
And spreading all my coins across the town’s wishing wells
Pools of hell where the head swells

And my good friend arrives through the back
And we clean finger stains from the glass
And spend the whole time fist fighting pushing words through our skulls
Yeah he’s begging me that I straighten up
He said,

“Yeah there’s kinks in our shadows
Come on, we’re better friends, we’re like arrows
Maybe we’re opposing today but we usually lay straight
Here’s a beer, get your gun, lets go out son”

Some fruits are false in the this tree
Its strange to see lost folks so happy hope free
Its so poignant it hits, licks the filth from the truth
And I know I gotta leave

The sea will be be diminished, hardened salt tomorrow
The waves that come today will leave no trace tomorrow

Its cold in the boatyard
I’m a kid in my pond in our backyard
Let the dream slip away, leave your shoes in the rain
And go drink with the bar succombed free hearts.
Track Name: Cats of Ashes
And I hate that I’m hitting a ceiling
Summers closed on its final afternoon
Last of the light floating round the room

Failing school, waking up in the evening
Piss the bed and don’t even clean it
My god you should have seen it

The fridge, no food
All plans unmoved
But everybody is failing together

Toying around in a bubble bursting
Forever pressured to become perfect
Within old clothes that we cannot grow in

You sold your phone, said that you were leaving
I did forget that you may just mean it
Took to the road, only left your footprint

Well don’t look back ‘til
Your feet are filth
I hope you see some better weather.