Love's Dark Season

by hermitofthewoods

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"This rapper and poet explores the fallout of a failed marriage with a skilled, soulful patter that's forever on the cusp of breaking." - Alison Lang, The Coast's Best Local Music issue.

"A masterpiece." - Jesse Dangerously

"Lyrically, this record is heavy as you might expect a hip hop album named Love's Dark Season to be, but you're certainly getting lyrical bang for your buck - the album is packed with plenty of deep ruminations on painful loves and the general failings of society..." - herohill

"It's majestic!" - Timbuktu

"Woah." - Keanu Reeves and Joey Lawrence


released June 18, 2009

everything written and produced by hermitofthewoods
90% of the cuts by dj y-rush (10% by hermit)
additional vocals by kayla Layes, vanessa furlong, emc, and shooty boo
additional raps by emc, heartz, vanessa furlong, quimbo, & rah-kleus
electric guitar on "pig iron" by mingus
"a rabbit in the cabbage" co-written with kayla layes and kevin waller
additional instrumentation on "love is..." by trevor howlett, brendan rutherford, and celeste cote
recorded at the imf compound in halifax, ns
mastered by colin crowell



all rights reserved


hermitofthewoods Halifax, Nova Scotia

Halifax based producer, rapper, instrumentalist, poet, and hip hop activist. Three time member of the Halifax Slam Poetry Team. Co-curator of Oral Tradition in Halifax. Keep rap weird.

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Track Name: Barrack Street
I used to take back roads alone, drifting home from distant zones
Weary boned, and blistered soles are tipping cobblestones
and feeling old
– No control… There is nothing I can hold
I am cold but there is life in me, it frightens me that I do not know
I’ve been told that where I go is strictly for the pheromones
I’ve written poems on lips of those
who risked their goals to kiss the throne
And as everything explodes around me sounds ground me
Down there where you found me in the basement of the foundry
I need to check the time lines
Identify all the sources before interpreting the signs
This city is a matrix constructing identities mentally through telepathy
(The chosen weaponry of the enemy)
They sentenced me to Barrack Street - the old military district
Enlisted men got twisted here long before I existed
From the 8th floor you would have seen
the orgy of debauchery stretch blocks
And I’m dancing on their drunken souls every single time I walk

I feel like I’m breaking down
There is no more sound here in my ears
I know this town and its hiding places
I’ve been tracing maps for years
And now I’m found where there’s no one around
There’s no more sound here in my ears
I walk this ground that time replaces
I won’t be chased out of here

This was the border, the frontier, a den of thieves who haunt here
The gaunt stare of ghosts appear
as the months wear on towards a year
And the books have piled up along with fears of paranoid delusion
I see a Black Dog on the corner, whores and soldiers, thick pollution
They move in fast flashes of flickering and fluttering frames
Muttering, but seemingly struggling to utter their names
There are Confederates among them
flying colours from Southern wars
I can see them through the broken doors
Sleeping on the earthen floors
Sunlight seeping through their pores
Swarming in the cold of this long forgotten rift to Hell
That dwells on this side of the Citadel
I forgot the spells.
I threw them out with superstition when I was twelve
I tell myself that I just fell asleep
listening to Tubular Bells
But I can’t seem to wake up and there’s no one to let me out
I can’t even hear my own screams; no one heeds the cries for help
This time I’m on my own, I suppose, and the end is getting close
I have to find a way to cope here in this city full of ghosts
Track Name: The Book of Leaving
Life is hard, that much is easy
You’ve got to survive and that’s the bottom line
The mouse must chase the cheese
I’m still breathing, and the sun climbs high above the trees
And as long as I’m alive I’ll try to find a place to be
I’ve stood on the razors edge with the corrupted children of Zoroaster
Master of nothing, laughter is cynical, madness clinical,
everything’s ugly
Everything’s something it’s not
and the rotten thoughts get me in awful spots in awkward talks
I’m an empty box in a vacant lot, I want to make it stop,
but the breaks are off
I can see the soft surface
before the words pervert and the nervousness
Makes murderous, blood curdling work of the most absurd hurdles
The verdict is always guilty,
and it fills me with a sadness that’s unimaginable
It’s an irrational impassioned act,
always lashing out to chase reactions
I’m only asking after the fact
the cracks collapsed the tracks that we laid down
The train’s late now, there’s a breakdown
stranded passengers need a way out
I can make out shapes but just the faintest trace,
my sense of place has been debased
I’ve lain to waste for days,
disgraced, with the taste of your last embrace
Emblazoned upon my fingertips,
emitting light to fight the nightmares
Arcs in shadows,
but the monsters come
and they’re so frightening with their dead stares
That I’m broken, hopeless, lonely,
wholly open, and close to ghostly moans
Throwing books to smash the light bulbs out, I want to be alone

I don’t know what happened
There was a flash and after that I find that I’m nowhere near the accident
We crashed and we were rushed to separate hospitals
I have to learn to walk again and navigate the obstacles
This desert bakes the flesh and arrests the respiratory system,
The hills are steep, I’m out of breath,
and there’s whispers written in the distance
Everyone tries to talk to victims who just want someone to listen
To let them know if they’re still living
when some things go unforgiven
But now my eyes are robbed of light,
the afterlife is the darkest night
It’s poison gas, my chest is tight,
but I think I’m alive and I have to fight
Fravashi. Bodhisattva.
Through evil thoughts and words and deeds
And I will bleed to breathe believing
bones can break in human beings
I will force myself to see in swarms of locusts, clouds of bees
I’ve been stung
She’s only close when I know she’s not supposed to be
I am the ghost of need
and all I want is just a moment
To break this problem down into single-celled components
I want to be alone
but someday I’ll push the pain back
Climb the walls of hell and find my way up to the train tracks
Track Name: Curtains
Her mother was a Stage Mom – Vietnam. Napalm.
Stayed calm vicariously sane bomb game’s on
Same song ringing in my brain Wrong Things
Living shame Strong strings attached to the past bring
The passionate accidental flashes of her mother in her genes
Loud screams and I’m the only one who knows what that means
Demons attack those who know better than to believe
Nothing is free – not even trust in me – I’ve been deceived
By a wisp of possibility in a hurricane of pure distain
I’ve heard the strains of sirens – (I deserve the pain, you’re not insane)
Everything along the fault line has suffered damage
I can’t stand for this destruction but I’m too fucked up to manage
Try to understand the planet is populated by people
Who just do the best they can and that we construct a sense of evil
To hide from confrontation, contemplation, constant hatred
Monster nature, constipated consequence of consecration
In defence of a creation of the state of mind heredity
You’ll never get the best of me. You haven’t got the weaponry.
Say Rest in Peace, play Let It Be, and turn the keys in to the keeper
Let the reaper do his work – DO NOT follow the leader
Let’s stop here for a breather; things are awkward in the theatre
As she mockingly repeats her, Mom’s a Nazi, she’s a teacher
I am neither hear me roar before a child of Plato’s cave
Who behaves this way each day without the faintest sense of place…
Can I erase the lines traced upon her face and taste compassion
The way she talks about it and not the way she puts it into action?
Can I crack that countenance with common sense and compliments?
I know what the problem is: The problem lies in confidence.
Mom launched her ship but stowed her garbage hidden in the hold
And now the hardest hand to fold is playing for her daughter’s soul
Control was always conquered by obnoxious conditionality
The principality is irrelevant. …and so is originality.

Sometimes the curtain rises and her eyes are shut a moment
She’s memorized the lines a thousand times, the lie is important
She holds it near her heart before she starts, remembers character
Breaks down the barriers that embarrass her – They cherish her
Knowing that the opening and the focusing of the lens
could be the end
Or the beginning, leaning forward as the orchestra suspends
A single note that ascends into crescendos once again
She explodes out of the spotlight, and then…
She moves strong like Tallulah with her wine glass
Time passes worn grooves along an overgrown path
It’s mathematical in its simplicity and in the depths of its veracity
What she does so casually maddens me
the majesty just saddens me
It’s too high a tower to climb and who am I?
I’m just some guy, barely getting by who got a ticket inside
Who once in, decides to reside beneath the stage
So that every night he gets another chance
to watch her slide from page to page
But there’s an orchestra pit and the music stands between us
And every show, I go knowing we’re toying with allegiance
Symbiosis of performances I’m riding every high
And feel it in my throat when she wants someone to die
And when she wants someone to cry there’s not a dry eye in the hall
She can make you feel small in the intensity of it all
And yet I know I’m not the only ghost who watches from the wings
There’s another one who stalks her and pulls upon the strings
Who brings her pretty flowers and holds her heart in a decrepit grip
Whispers words that slip through my love’s lips
So we exist, I the exorcist and she the greatest actress
The screaming frees the demons but they’re scheming to distract us
House lights fade. Blackness. And the curtain falls again
The crowd is moved and I am consumed, it never ends
I defend her but it kills me because in getting rid of ghosts
Sometimes you can’t help but hurt the host
Track Name: Pig Iron

Plant life.
An industrial complex, anxiety factory
with metal-mouthed tentacles that leech off of batteries
Imma keep running and recoiling for hunting
Ingested corrosion off moments that rusted
Hungry lunging like a junkie for a fix
Pipelines that mainline the dark time I lived
A feeding frenzy feasting excavated weakness
Plant engine screaming Love’s Dark Season


The white wash washed off in one swoop
There was an iron creature that whistled as it spoke,
and as it spoke the hope broke
Falling faster into paintings of meaningless things I can’t even...
In a sense of unbiased individuality
There was a duality in the lake where you drowned me,


What beast of rendered steel slumps drunkenly from the factory
Blasting toxic gas to distract us from our faculties
Action is promoted through motive and we are lifeless
Stricken by the viciousness of the instruments that fight us
Idols form from light but we have penetrated underground
Hearkening epiphanies from the peripheries of the thunder clouds
Wrenched apart by the Horsemen of the Black Cloak
And assembled in the plant to make your every chance your last hope.


Load the carousel dead weight suffocate
By-product in the lungs try to ventilate
Quota time, mind fried, tired assembly line
Can’t assemble lines, no Im not fine, overtime
Maxed out producing the anxiousness bleeding
The noxious confusion recycle my screaming
Speaking smokestack limbs turn to brick
Frantically planting til my engine quits


The devil destroyed my house made of straw
With machines that only grow louder
as i throw my hands up in valediction,
This is as close as we will ever get to real metaphysics
Existentialism was real until I was cast as a mute lead
the beauty of your lust for my hatred drips in bowls i drink out of
lick everything clean
the concepts were one sided when the place was destroyed


In a broken hopeless city dream, ground zero bricks scatter
Anti-matter Kali dancing on some planet shatter shit
With a wolf jaw snap, rust clenches
and dust commences to smother other senses
Only pain is retained along the flame stained surface
The house can barely hold against a mainframe with a purpose
The worst is, production’s engineered to never cease
Smokestacks belch with the birth of the machines
Track Name: Skipping Stones
I spit these words with a venomous tongue
Adrenaline lunged, killing like Attila the Hun
Indiscriminate, even when I know I should run
Illegitimate actions trying to block out the sun
Sit back and I’m stunned – I can’t believe the things I’m doing
I wanted everything but now I’ve laid it all to ruin
I’m moving through stages of stress incomprehensible
Living in different rooms and I’m expendable
Does it matter at all that I was really trying
To lay it all down on the line? She thinks I’m lying
I went too far in hopes of making a home
And now it’s me, myself, and my microphone
But none of it means anything and machetes sting my steps
A thousand blades caress my neck
slice precisely with each breath
I would lay down now and rest but I am cursed to wear the blood
Of the woman that I loved

I don’t know where this road goes, but it is long and I must roam
Far from home, all alone
exiled, with nothing but the styles I’ve grown
Skipping stones sink down below eventually
depending on the throw’s trajectory
and I’m a reject who goes splash...
(Just relax and take your last gasps)

I would throw it all away, all of the things that I have known
All the silly games I play and all the times that I’m not at home
And all the books, and all the records, I would burn the studios
Grow my hair and shave my face and stop wearing stupid clothes
I’d never write another word or read a poem or compose
These beats, I’d never speak, I’d never sing and I suppose
That I would do anything, I’d never eat, I’d never learn
I’d never ask another question, never sleep and never stir
I’d never kiss the gift of water with these lips and cross the sands
I’d never tingle as my finger traces hearts upon her hands
I’d never see another sunrise or take any other pleasure from the sky
If it meant that I could find a bit of that one more time
I would walk away from everything with meaning for me
But I shouldn’t have to
if that makes me an asshole then I am sorry
Life goes on. We live with it as we must
Me? I love too much, but when it’s rough it’s not enough
Track Name: Moving Day
I remember the first of May - words were flames
On the worst of days jouer La Marseillaise
Aujourd’hui c’est le jour que Je tombe de la tour
J’ai perdu tous, mon fils et mon amour
But I wanted more and there was only war
Door to door, from the fourth to the psych ward on the eighth floor
My reward is desolation - Signed on the dotted line: Confirmation
Erase it all 'cause the vitriol
Is just a bit too small to keep the nerves calm
She dropped the bomb and then I packed up all the shrapnel
Moved my things to the center of the capital
Now everybody sees me as a threat
I haven’t even caught my breath yet
Boxes loaded, old roads corroded,
Got a place to go, but today I’m feeling homeless
Nobody is gonna give me change
There’s more than the furniture to rearrange
But then I’m feeling strange like maybe this is for the better
Sever the strings; get on with things, whatever
But even on the darkest nights when I can’t see the lights
Something tells me this ain’t right I don’t believe in the afterlife

I remember December because the last day of November
I suspended the pretentious adventures that I’d entered
We ventured back, having passed through black holes
Pack the studio and bag up all the clothes
Unmasked, exposed, the elastic roles
Snapped like drum tracks – keep the casket closed
No one needs to see the corpse, divorce is disfiguring
The impact of the free fall I’ve been living in
Left me destroyed and bruised - With everything to lose
I’ve broken all the rules that weren’t clearly stated
how can I be rehabilitated?
Maybe I can’t. But I’ll try until I die again
To do-do-do that dance. Eat the Leviathan
This may be the Second Coming
Or maybe I’m just trying to feel something
Can’t tell if I’m alive or dead
Because the shots to the head and the hearts bled red
And all the words that were said then, fed up in the end
Made me get up and pretend that she wasn’t my best friend
But what drips from the lips of liars?
Is Mike McGuire the mic messiah?
Is it time to retire these tired poems?
Let’s take it slow. I’m coming home.

I remember the first of June I was singing tunes
Live at the Blue Moon - IMF crew
Show and prove – I’ve got to do what any man has got to do
But I have no home to return to
So the road feels cold old fears take hold
I sold my soul for the science many years ago
I’m exposed and the loads are getting heavy
Running through the jungle with my life and a machete
I rock steady in a Petri dish
To validate the chemistry of sneakiness
I was brought back to practice Black Magic
Acts of witchcraft and passion in the attic
Blaow!! How ya like me now?
You feel the bass in your face every time I’m loud
But I don’t want to be around here rattling chains
I need to get out to reclaim my name
Migraine intensity every time they mention me
Trapped in a cage – it’s been the same since the 70s
They sentenced me to Barrack, Ravine
Embarrassed of the scene, duck down, get free
This town’s diseased and now there’s nothing new to say
I know it too well and still lose my way
I’ve loved you all, but I can’t stay
One last time… It’s moving day
Track Name: As Rainfall Blackens the Embers
I’ve known some weird fuckers,
like knife throwers, Motorcycle gangs
a wiccan priestess, friends of jesus
and thieves with Irish names
But that first sack of feces...
he hid in a closet while we were watching that shit
The whole time, from the beginning of the movie
he knew the entire script
Without making a sound
knowing when the opportunity would arise
to be the biggest scumbag asshole
piece of crap of a human being alive.
We didn't hear him open the closet door
in the darkness of the basement
and we didn't hear his clothes rustle
when he raised his arm and took aim
And there was just enough light
from the glow of the television
To see the 17" polished steel Rambo knife
thrown with precision
As it whistled through the air between our heads
in time with Malachi’s knife
It dug four inches into the cement.
We screamed and ran for our life
Waking all the neighbours.
We were 9. But I learned
If you’re not the one to get the drop first
you’re going to get burned
I’ll wait my turn to study survival style and execution
Stall confusion, squeeze don’t pull,
There’s no such thing as allocution

There’s a rainstorm, plagues, and swarms
Everything is breaking down, it’s what I’m paid for
There’s a strange war and I was made to play with violence
As rainfall blackens embers I paint shadows on my eyelids
There’s a pain worn on the places of the poor
From everything that’s been taken out, I’m trying to give them more
It’s a strange war, but I was made to play with violence
As rainfall blackens embers I paint shadows on my eyelids

I studied in forests ‘round the lakes in falls and winters
Master Splinter grateful Casey Jones beginner at the centre
My training rainy days was lashing logs along the treetops
So the water drops were stopped
siphoned down into the teapot
He taught me from field manuals
gave me homework from the cookbook
Brought me first look
at the latest tools of the trade he got from paying crooks
Our rivals shook the ground with anxious energy.
I’m the enemy.
When they sentenced me
he presented me with the entry fee and dependency
They resented me
but the defences he ingrained inside my brain
Reaped a harvest blessed with pain for those who dare to speak
my name
Because I play the greatest game
and have ever since I lost my innocence
I’m terrified, but into this –
the lonely roads of inner bliss
The witness lists and synthesis
of flesh and bone and hollow tips
The Christmas gifts and business trips,
the listlessness and nervous ticks
Where I exist few can fathom rational explanations
Unravel your expectations
I was raised to aid in domination

I’ve told you I am death – I am the harbinger of doom
Consume the moon to darken lonely nights
and turn the sights to you
I am a ruiner of lives and nothing drives my occupation
Besides the palpitations that arise in times of concentration
Angels of pain have been described
throughout the centuries
And I’ve never believed in angels,
it’s not something I’d pretend to be
But I’m the Alpha and the Omega in the lives of countless people
I am love and I am evil –
I am the one who makes us equal
I didn’t choose this life
it was thrust upon me and I accept it
I regret it and respect it reject it and protect it
Detective of your weaknesses
Exploiter of your deepest flaws
I bury shots beneath applause
and booby-trap the path to Oz.
Some days it’s odd...
I feel like I can’t drop it when I’m home
It follows me
and the ones who took it in the heart appear when I’m alone
But I’m in the shadows now and trained for unflinching efficiency
Knife throwers live to be a million years old and no one’s killing me
Track Name: How to Defuse a Bomb
I need someone to show me
where they think I should go
Cause there is no place I would rather be
than in your arms at home
And I feel broken, I’ve been roaming
on these roads all day
There is nothing left a
nd so much more for me to say
Things have changed and I was selfish
when I refused to see
All the times that I left you helpless
and dared you not to bleed
Now, I’ve believed in my own control
but I’ve allowed myself to freeze
The winter’s cold and I feel alone
Will you please come back to me?

I took away your breath, I know
No rest for the beating heart I stole
I played the best way that I know
And it’s left me all alone
The price I’ve paid to push this stone
The paths I’ve laid back to your throne
Just to ask in vain to bring me home
Before everything explodes

I don’t know if I should ask you
just where you have been
Cause it’s a question I can’t answer
without smashing our dreams
But I will love you ever after
no matter what that means
Even when there’s no more laughter
and sadness cracks the seams
The Age of Genocide upon us
and we’ve found love and shot it down
Who the hell are we
to play around with something so profound?
There are some things bigger than all of this
I hope that you witness this too, someday
But for now just listen, stripped of everything
While I recite your secret names
Track Name: The Paint
Purple messes
Picassoesque paint stretches
through bright globs of red and looping pencil sketches
The best is the freshest
it rests near the grocery checklist
The restless method in his hand is so impressive
All that’s left are the mementos that dress the fridge gallery
Stress is suppressed around its effervescent reality
There’s a picture from the park that makes him look like Hunter Thompson
And another with his mom
before the monsters came and got them
My boy’s rocked a beatbox since he could walk
and I don’t hear him anymore
(Not since the screaming stopped)
I’m disappearing through the door
I’m forming holodecks of regret
and living through it
The smell of the textured tempera is vital fluid
It oozes through my senses
fights off the darkest thoughts
I miss hearing him learn how to talk
And so I sit like a tourist
and pretend I see him creating
But he ain’t….
all I’ve got left is the paint.

Torn sheets caked in grease
its pre-geometry increases
In every piece and I am speechless
Deciphering signals in the signature style
Tradition is wild and I’m living in them just for a while
I’m in a state of denial – the fine line minds find
To rhyme a bit of reason
Believe it, these are treasonous times
I’ve been defeated by surprise and rise up
the most high
Ultra violet black light – and I will try to survive
But there’s nothing here to work with
I can’t even figure out why things
ever seemed so perfect
I’m on a desert island but forgot to pack the discs
I exist in the midst of these wax and marker glyphs
I’ll rip them down and lash together a raft
Piece together a better map
Try to find my way back
To the shores so sore that they don’t exist any more
While I’m sitting on the floor
Wishing that I could see him more
Track Name: Group Therapy
My name is Michael Douglas McGuire
the bird of fire, the liar, the Sire
Mired in funeral pyres
the choir the quiet the riot in the inner mind’s wires
Iron Alliances – I am eye of the tiger
the line where violence lives
A scientist of silences
been rhyming since 96 - I’m an arsonist
Burning myself is all part of it
Third degree survivor this is dire, inspired but tired
Im trying, but I left it behind when I was dying

Vanessa Ann Marie Furlong
Miss Sagittarian arrogant and headstrong
Miss if there's a way there's a will go wrong
I found redemption
in the pills popped and in hiphop and song
Forgiven and given a mic so Im livin and driven in spite
of the hidden forbidden misfittin and slittin that I fight
Cause this life
It dragged me down its path kickin and screamin
so I write

My name is Eric Vincent McIntyre
Been sending smoke signals as my ashtray piles
Something cracked now I can't go outside
without my headphones of refuge
for my thoughts to exercise
Track meet, move feet, eternal sunshine beats
On a spot, less mind, more heart buried deep
That thing we have is dead and it wont rest in peace
Now coffins rest between my eye lids
when I try to go to sleep

Heartz Aoi Deadwood
Useless unmotivated broke, undeserving of kudos
Manic depressive, suicidal failure, unseeing
Leave me to drown here
Moves only in dead backwards steps
Each breath only to strangle my own neck,
Then cut the rope before I cross over
I just cant win... Thank you

Christopher Thomas Rice
-- that's what they named me
And I've been playing nice too long for you to save me
We wanna say they said;
So I'm here breaking it down with like nun-chucks upside the head
guess again, there there...
Doubting Thomas with a promise
breaking habit-to-tendency
Misanthropic dependency
You talkin' therapy? I got six bitches sharing me
Behind closed doors and guarantees
and I ain't made a peep

My name is Michael Gray Kimber
I’ve whined long enough so fuck it
This is group therapy, what’d ya call it
When co-dependants see life and dodge it
Group Therapy - We are all fucked up
Wow I got it.
Clarity. Losers at getting rich
Masters of speaking, hoping to be living it
Giants and little kids
Possibilities limitless, but the world shit on us
I can’t make a crown out of all the feces
- I need people to need me
So promise you’ll meet me where I’ll be
In constant company
My home, The Asylum.
With my best friends in group therapy
World full of ripples
Scary for me to walk in my own two shoes
without the crutches that carry this cripple

Live a little.
Track Name: The Trial of Herman O. Dagwood
I stand accused of singing the blues so truthfully
That I destroyed the way it used to be
I poisoned the solutions
These chains are the same that have shackled countless millions
But supervillains can’t be contained in prison buildings
I haven’t killed anyone
In fact, I’ve done the opposite
Be responsible for yourself, don’t act like it’s the apocalypse
Reacting to hostile acts with the logic of a hostage
I have a right to live my life
– it’s all I’ve ever wanted
But I’m haunted in this county by charges of corruption
And ghosts from the asylum whose tactics are disgusting
I rap over repercussions
and ethical baselines
While they give chase and whisper names through grapevines
I roam free, but I don’t walk among the living
Cause living means you have to allow yourself to be forgiven
If that’s the difference, mine’s a liminal existence
Half in, half out – not acquitted or convicted.

Mind shattered dreams scatter on the edge of disaster
The superficial matters
'cause mad hatters have the last word
As that feeling starts to rise in the chest it’s best to press on
Walk through the stress with a bulletproof vest on

I used to know where the crows go when the snow begins to blow
But the roads all froze below the streetlamp glow
Dogs fight over bones and people lose their homes
I am not the problem – it’s just the way that it goes
The way I play it depends upon the way it’s composed
I’m trying to stay warm
- love’s dark season is cold
Don’t believe what you’re told
no matter how loud they moan
No throne can impose a harsher sentence than my own

I am the defence, the prosecution, and the judge
Transcriber of things that should not be spoken of
Am I guilty?
Sure, but then what the hell is innocence?
Name a single citizen whose membership’s free of blemishes
Ever since I’ve done those things I’ve been tormented
And every single day
it’s a struggle not to end it
Fly away to Uruguay
sneak across the border
To Bela Horizonte
Beyond the reach of bench orders
But tracks and applejacks are just two reasons that I’m fighting
Think what you like but I love this broken life
"I know what I must do, cause I won’t let them do this to me"
was spoken by Bruce Li when he got bumrushed in a movie
The Man and the Myth cannot coexist in this reality
Say what you want about me, I’m a man who sleeps soundly
I do feel like I’m broken down and nervous
But I still have to pick myself up and work around the verdict

Respect to all of those who’d testify on my behalf
It’s because of you I’ve made it back
when I slipped through the cracks
I learn things cause every time I burn things
a bird sings
And I can steal the melody when my own aren’t working
Track Name: A Rabbit in the Cabbage
It’s been a long road, my heart has grown warn and cold
Take me to a peaceful place where I can make my own way

Every spring for a century the sun has risen over this orchard
Affording the most glorious reward, but I am tortured
A rabbit’s in the cabbage again, Ma, he’s at it again
Too many seasons have been spent, it’s never ending
These traps are getting rusty - bones creaking
Futility is killing me - I don’t even have a reason

I’m going on foot standing on solid ground again
My fading glow will soon be reignited

It’s a long war that outlasted my father’s father
This farm will fade into the past without my son and daughter
The water in the well is drying up and they keep coming
Every year no matter what – they’re on to something
I’ve tried to live a simple life, but I’ve made it problematic
Is it really so tragic to have a rabbit in the cabbage?

Simplicity is becoming of me I’ve seen the way that things should be
Not interested in the guidelines, I follow no ones lead
and maybe its because I need to be the better version of me

There’s a brand new world that awaits me once I finally release
All of the things that have restrained me
It’s my turn to run free

You know what, Ma? I’ve grown tired of the fight
I’ve been battling the rabbits - it’s drained away my life
I need to learn to love again, and to stop wasting all my energy
Trying to defeat an enemy who should really be a friend to me
It’s time for me to say goodbye, I don’t need these clothes
I’ll be running with the rabbits when the garden starts to grow

You can find me with the rabbits when the garden starts to grow