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We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

LIVE at Spice Radio

by Thompson M.T.

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1.
Claps 04:28
2.
If those church birds croon in perches Eyeing your woes, And harp at you about how no mouse Gets in that grove, Remember all of those bitter crows Are just left over dinosaurs, And you've got flashy underclothes And love for days to juxtapose, So be a mammal and speak in prose, And love who loves you and decompose, And take your leisures up your nose, And dance your bones out, baby, break some toes, Dress in sequins and flash your quick wit And smash your glasses across a pulpit And buy an island for your life to live in And make damn sure that Yahweh knows you're coming, Da, da, da, da, And if your feet keep sore from growing up Poor in Dubai, Oh! And those concrete bunkers kept you Hunkered and dried out, Well remember all of the oligarchs Are just decapods dressed up as sharks, And you've got all of your muscles starched up And baked in sunlight and hurt and earth stuff, So heave your worries out of your windows, And lean your lanterns as the wind blows, And show 'em slit won't stain your vertebrae, Vous mangez le gateau et le sourire, You're the congress on the tennis court Leant out in your gunpowder reports, In a new and unbounded ballet, And it's just you now, Happy Birthday, Da, da, da, da.
3.
4.
Sugar Lump 05:29
Well darlin' ain't you made of somethin' silver Don't you glint just like a velvet rose It's like you shimmer from your head to your toes, And I'm a' simmerin' right outta myself just to be with you, So pack up all your things, Take your shoes from their even rows, And we can take us one one of those Steam boats and head for New Orleans, And we can settle us one of those Beautiful bayous, 'Cause sure as the vine twines 'round the stump, You are my darlin' sugar lump, So love me like you mean, Love me like we're leaving on bad news, Like there's an angel in the corner Cutting silver in quarters Like it's over, Like it's already over, Like we got old, Like we're sober, Well listen here you bow-legged mouth breather, You best believe with your soul, either we Take us a break from all this running about, Or get a toutin' for yourself a new keeper, 'Cause I ain't been to sleep Or seen the wind leave the sheets, Hell, we ain't had ourselves no maritals In nearly a week, And you smell like whiskey and sheep, Well darlin', 'cause sure as the vine Twines 'round the stump, You're my darlin sugar lump, So love me like you mean it, Love me like we're leaving on bad news, Like there's an angel in the corner Cutting silver into quarters Like it's over, Like it's already over, Like we got old, Like we're sober.

about

The first documentation of our existence, "LIVE at Spice Radio" was recorded at Spice Rack Studios in Huntsville, Alabama, produced by "Spicy" Ben Jobe and "Cayenne" Dan Bullard. Thanks to them for making it possible and for anyone willing to sit through this sloppiness. For the full interview and music from other Huntsville artists, go to www.spice-radio.com.

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released June 9, 2015

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Thompson M.T. Huntsville, Alabama

Glitter and gin stains down the front of a sun dress worn by a man with no ambition, glazed with rain water, beside the white chickens.

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