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CHITTERLINGS VOLUME II

by Moolah Temple $tringband

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1.
O where will I shelter my sheep tonight? Where is that peaceful land? Where will I shelter my sheep tonight Where the beast won't steal my lambs? We travel on, far at night, Weary, sin-sick and sore. O where will I shelter my sheep tonight? I'll shelter my sheep in God's fold.
2.
Well, the Doctor he's a busy man. He's got no time for you. He only treats the pretty ones, Yeah, the ones he can cure. And the rich folks love his tinctures. Their "sphinctures" draw tight, As he opens up his little bag With the pretty pink pills inside. So go throw yourself at the mercy Of the Missionary Hostel. They'll sponge your sweaty brow down And feed you some gruel. Your friends can't come see you, Pray your soul Lord to keep. They'll play cards in the corner For your clothes while you sleep ... (C) 2010 MORE YEN!
3.
Woke up in a Seville, by the side of the highway, Against the powder blue backseat and the door. Brown sack filled with cash, I used for a pillow, A .38, A liquor store. I don't start walkin To end up like Dustin Hoffman, A hobbled counterfeit In Papillion. (alternate) I don't start walkin To end up like Chris Walken, A hobbled clairvoyant In the Dead Zone. I sniff my revolver, Fan out the Liquor store's money That I've been sleepin upon. Naught is extinguished. My cousin's distinguished. He calls crows, they land on his arm. Some kinda Montana, I mean, Arizona, Well anyway, down on the farm. The trooper reached over to a white paper bag. He could tell when a girl's feelin rotten. I had it half eaten by the time we reached the station. I thought it homemade, but found it was boughten. Not just for nothin, I mention my cousin. He calls crows, they land on his arm. Some kinda Montana, I mean, Arizona, Well anyway, down on the farm. Affix a crossover to that night in October, To those times, to these times, besotten. I kept a cherry bed in my heart just for you. I thought it handmade, but found it was boughten. (C) 2010 MORE YEN!
4.
Three men out on the beach, The queen of swords ascendant. If you had thought even for an instant That mankind had a chance, You might have chosen differently. It's your inability to compromise That's brought this on, But what do I care. The sun begins to send Threads of light out, Dawn over the ocean. Daylight spreading like a fungus, Feathery fingers, Filaments of silver myth. A piping sound, A whistle made out of a bird's skull. The three men on the beach Begin to sing. If you knew which language, You could join in. Tied up in the bottom of the boat, I'm not a child anymore. Blind maybe, a little careless, But I can feel these first few Moments of dawn. Warm, I'm crusted with salt, Naked otherwise. My hands and feet are numb with mingles. Foolish, dreamlike, Shall I sing the song for you? (C) 2010 MORE YEN!
5.
'Lot of times there won't be nothing but frogs. 'Lot of times there won't be nothing but frogs out there. 'Lot of times there won't be nothing but frogs out there Jump, jump, jump, Jump, jump, jumpin From lily pad to lily pad.
6.
The Archon seed and embryos Breed striation wherever it goes. Filter feeders, prisms of light, You and I and the trilobite. Cut the heel thong, Sing the wheel song. My God, Wednesday's Speaking in tongues. Wrestle the messenger Down the ladder rung ... (C) 2010 MORE YEN!
7.
No, brother I'll never be better T'is useless to tell me so now My heart only is waiting For resting place under the snow I only was dreaming, dear brother How happy our home was with joy Till a serpent crept into our eden In the fair form of Christine Leroy I was dreaming again of a bridal One year ago, only tonight When I blushed 'neath the gas lights above me In the jewels and garments, so white Now, she came with the face of an angel And wished me a life time of joy Oh, my heart sank within at the meeting In th dark eyes of Christine Leroy O, the diamonds shown bright in the tresses Falling back from her fair waxen brow And sparkled like tins, in the gas light On her fingers as white as the snow As she gave her soft hand to my husband I knew that he thought me a toy Beside the bright radiant glory Of beautiful Christine Leroy So, time wore away and my husband Grew restless, care worn each day And I knew t'was the wiles of a demon That artfully (awfully) lured (blew) him away At last, one bright night when I found them T'was the sight of my life to destroy Hand in hand, with her head on his shoulder Sat my Harry and Christine Leroy So, brother, be kind to your darling Her poor heart is stricken and faint At the thought of the wiles of the demon Neath the beautiful face of a saint When I lie 'neath the snow drifts of winter Where no sorrow nor thing can destroy Will you tell them they murdered your sister God forgive him and Christine Leroy
8.
Intermission (free) 01:20
9.
10.
Kicking over headstones, That bottle in full swing. All yellowing collar, Y'all been clipping your wing. And it's pouring down your neck, All problematic hour, To occupy your ass With another Brompton sour. And by the roadside, Lie all those stricken sons. The wind across the bottle's mouth Apes their lamentations. Like some pawn shop instruments Toothsome in the corner, They slipped through your fingers In the meddlesome-assed morning. Wayside, by the way, Old World screwworm flies, But there was nothing left to kill, but the mouse That pulls the levers behind your eyes. Fallow ground, You traded your docks for dead crops, Hoy! Eyesore twists for miles, an Autumn's almsbox, Dreamless sleep, yes, boys, Dreamless sleep, yes, boys. Swallow up your death And walk over your grave. I want no bite From the hand that sold snake. 'Cause I been workin On the Nod's Sleep While you went and drank your Ass awake. And by the roadside, Lie all those stricken sons. The wind across the bottle's mouth It apes their lamentations, lamentations. Dreamless sleep, dreamless sleep, yes, boys. (C) 2010 MORE YEN!
11.
Well, the priest is to holy What boots are to mud And a tramp is to money What a wound is to blood. I will grapple your dead weight 'Til down in the dust. Your soul is to my soul What a knife is to rust. Samson was a funny fellow, Caught all of the little foxes, Tied all of their tails together, And set a fire to them. Then he let em all a'loose and They burnt up the fields of Canaan, And he gave a little chuckle 'Cause he was a righteous man. All this for a wedding present That he thought he was due. All this for a wedding present, Don't you wish you were holy too? When the time comes won't you tell me What that was all about? When I was ragged and dirty And down at the mouth. Whoa, rough, rutting, and ready, Red velvet and musk, I'm daring by daylight, But doubtful by dusk. Where the priest is to money What boots are to mud And a tramp is to holy What a wound is to blood, I'll grapple your dead weight Down in the dusk. Your soul is to my soul What knife is to rust. (C) 2010 MORE YEN!
12.
perched up on his wagon, wearin the plumed hat and regulation tunic.
13.

about

In 2009, Moolah Temple $tringband began work on a tribute album, Chitterlings Volume II, burlesquing the Pimalia label’s successful compilation, Smatterings Volume One. Moolah Temple $tringband‘s song, “Rum & Pepsi” was included as track nine on Smatterings Volume One.

The project was more daunting than readily apparent, requiring the two composers (Johnny Favorite and Eden Moor) to create several new and spurious bands. One of the fake bands, Tuckaseegee Anchorites, were in regular rotation for a time on Dandelion Radio. Unfortunately, the song, “Cherry Bed Antique,” made it into the Festive 50, but was correctly credited to Moolah Temple $tringband, rather than Tuckaseegee Anchorites. Their plan failed miserably.

Too add insult to injury, the perception that they were biting the hand that feeds arose due to the fact that they were receiving a lot of airplay for a song attributed to a fake band. Logically, attention for “Cherry Bed Antique” would have led to attention for the label and would be a show of good faith between all parties involved.

Expecting a hug and a soulshake upon the label’s receipt of the tribute, Moolah Temple $tringband found themselves in a rotten mess.

Pimalia artist and co-owner, 400 Lonely Things either didn’t get the joke, didn’t find it amusing, or just didn’t care. In addition to offending their benefactors, Moolah Temple $tringband received cease and desist requests from the attorney’s of Pimalia artists and Smatterings Volume One contributors, Hawaiian Garbage (HI), Robot Buckwheats (NC), Mookoid (AUS), The Penetralia (FL), Diarmuid Mac Diarmada (IE), and Forms Of Things Unknown (CA).

Moolah Temple $tringband were summarily dropped from their recording contract and have returned to their previous and precarious state of basement obscurity. Ultimately, no one believed that any of the fake bands were anyone other than Moolah Temple $tringband in the first place.

credits

released July 4, 2010

2010 MORE YEN!

anti dram $hop party #8



pimalia.net/artists/moolah-temple-stringband/

www.myspace.com/moolahtemplestringband

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Moolah Temple $tringband North Carolina

Redefining the art of the long con, MOOLAH TEMPLE $tringband is Johnny Favorite and Even More on numerous devices and in varying guises.

Moolah Temple $tringband was formed in 2001 as an oafish attempt to combine two one-man bands into one two-man band.

It is the "side project" that simply will not die.

They live in the Great Smoky Mountains.

C'mon and raise up.
... more

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