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Profanity

by sinai vessel

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1.
Cats 04:44
the church, how she swells brackets full of ticketholders ready for the lights and the pews, they buckle under just like the bishop's bed under the weight of deacons' wives but she's a handsome prize and he's a number rise and a damned good hypnotic your name, it is a banner that flies over the most shameful things like a garage full of guns and dirty magazines brackish water and cauldrons of gasoline race-consuming tongues and callow reveling but you are somewhere in the corners of america you try and sing your love just how it is but i swear i'm gonna beat You to it take that song, pervert it bit by bit 'cause you are just a sunday morning you're a bullhorn in the street you're a protest on the asphalt politician on tv you're a bell rung by the hour a curse when we cut our feet you're a five-word liar's chorus: "you mean everything to me"
2.
Greatham 00:40
3.
Cuckold 02:37
i abstain and they participate and twenty years down the road it's all the same 'cause we'll both have houses, cars, and kids, and wives though we bring up different things when reminiscing the good times it is worth it to stay so celibate from all the suitors of my attentions though i know they will make a cuckold of me at least i can call it a party though i'll end up crude and defenseless though at least it's not friendless, right? they learn to dance so well and i'm paralyzed conserved to force a dirge that i swear, "it isn't mine" though i know it's for safety's keeping i'm still safely alone "aw come on, dad! that wisteria don't look so bad on their bones" 'cause in honesty what really bothers me has nothing to do with their best intentions but more with secret desires all set afire by the spark of inhibition's funeral pyres and muscles best exercised without fences like my strength's somehow endless, right? daddy please, daddy please… let me rumble in the wagon, get raked up with the leaves daddy please, daddy please just let me pick the party daddy please, daddy please i wanna grow cold with the bushes, stand still like the trees i don't need your love, i just need them to love me
4.
Drown Around 02:58
how long are you gonna drown around and peel off all your scabs and take your stitches out? how long? you show off your loss of blood but everybody's got that too all running down our shins, no one can do a thing for you how long, how long… like a reckless child, rubbing dirt in his wounds steps away from front doors and cleaner hands, warmer hands to soothe reeling back, peeling bandages again but it all keeps coming off, like you forgot how to grow skin and it when it does, it just sticks to the linen so now you sleep by the creek imagined meals within your cheeks it's a blanket pile of leaves and a tin can a tin can to your pride but there's a stamp on your bones it says that you have a home and it's your brilliant own
5.
Flannery 04:47
cigarettes and tarot cards and contraceptives onto the olden barn-board all fall out from the middle of a covert cache in a salesman's briefcase bible abraham to the baptist all cut out and its owner, he moves toward her and i wish that i could be that honest to look her in the eye and pull her leg right off 'cause i keep my virtue and my vice confined in two separate lives with which my conscience never coincides without my admission cigarettes and tarot cards and contraceptives onto the olden barnboard all fall out from the middle of a covert cache in a salesman's briefcase bible abraham to the baptist all cut out and i wish that i could be that honest to look her in the eye and pull her leg right off 'cause i keep my virtue and my vice combined in one consummate lie with which my conscience never seems to collide without conviction seems we're just good country people with bad city hearts we're just good country people with bad city hearts white wool for our charm and a wolf's bite marks good country people with bad city hearts clean shirt for the the table with blood on our arms we're just good country people with bad city hearts white wool for our charm and a wolf's bite marks good country people with bad city hearts with bad city hearts, with bad city hearts...
6.
you took me on top of a mountain a bald and treeless height and urged me to take a photograph against the marble sky "set the peaks of the east in the distance," tired and old, weathered and wise "and note the depth of field between where the valleys rise and fall to take their dives" it's neither far nor forever away but hours, surely hours and surely not today so with index on the oval and the sky trapped in the lens the picture closed and the shutter snapped and developed on my skin a clear, discerning portrait of what i haven't seen since then the horizon lined with the outcrops' climb that disappear when i begin to descend and i must confess that sometimes i roll down my sleeve to cover up your nameprint and enshroud my disbelief but reverie approaches on evenings like this and she pulls all my nerves out from in between my ribs and she gnaws on their bodies but ends her love with a kiss one second poignant as a thought, the next faint as a mist and in the morning i wake up with dew on my skin.

about

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self-released digitally in late 2013
rereleased on vinyl by flannel gurl in late 2014

credits

released December 1, 2013

produced by david wimbish and sinai vessel
recorded / mixed by david wimbish in spring-summer '13
mastered by tw walsh

caleb cordes - guitars / bass / vocals
nathan larson - drums / slammies
david wimbish - brass / harmonies

artwork & typography by maddy young [http://lemaddyart.tumblr.com]
photography by daniel hernandez [http://danielhh.tumblr.com]
all songs penned by cc cordes

thank you.

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sinai vessel Asheville, North Carolina

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