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Junkyard Recordings #1

by Franklyn Currie

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1.
Take what you want from me now, Take it while I am face down. Defenseless, you've left me to die. Take it out on me. Use me, like users do use. Take me until I refuse. Oh Defenseless, you've left me to die. Take it out on me. Take it out on me. Take it out on me.
2.
The wanted ad says, "Dead or alive." A reward is paid if with him, you arrive. He's slinging guns, he's a soldier, He's wanted for the murder of his wife. If you see this man, don't you talk to him Just keep on our way passing by. This man doesn't eat or sleep, he's living on cold wind, cigarettes and wine. Cold wind, cigarettes and wine. Cold wind, cigarettes and wine. He'll speak to you deceiving words, Now don't you fail friend, focus on his eyes. He's an old man, he's a young man, He's lookin' man, for a means to survive. They say he's staying down by the tracks, He's waiting for the next steam-train to arrive. No, this man doesn't eat or sleep, he's living on cold wind, cigarettes and wine. Cold wind, cigarettes and wine. Cold wind, cigarettes and wine. Before you go, come over here. And let me tell you something between you and I. For this man isn't flesh or blood, He lives inside the worst of us. He's that thing that makes you want to die, He's that thing that makes a good man lie. Catch him now, catch him if you can, and we'll be better off, you and I. Because I don't want to live on a bottle of pills, For something I've been diagnosed with, clinically. This man doesn't eat or sleep, he's living on cold wind, cigarettes and wine. Cold wind, cigarettes and wine. Cold wind, cigarettes and wine. Cold wind, cigarettes and wine.
3.
There's something about the driving, something about the passing city lights, That's keeping me behind the wheel, of this tractor trailer all day and night. A home is home to he who claims it, and this highway driving is suiting me just fine. Oh, eighteen wheels and miles to go, I've got one foot down and Cash on the radio. Oh Oh, Well Well. Oh Oh, Well Well. There's something about the waiting, Something about the passing of time. That's driving me to smoke and drink, and the grass is always green on the other side. A home is home to he who claims it, This cell I'm sitting in is mine. Oh, eighteen years and miles to go, I've got on foot down and Cash on the radio. Oh Oh, Well Well. Oh Oh, Well Well. Oh Oh, Take Me home. Take me home, Take me home. There's something about the driving, something about the passing city lights, That's keeping me behind the wheel, of this tractor trailer all day and night. A home is home to he who claims it, and this highway driving is suiting me just fine. Oh, eighteen wheels and miles to go, I've got one foot down and Cash on the radio.
4.
Damage Done 04:15
This town is not all its cut out to be. This ground is drier than it seems. These days are better off left alone. This game is better played by one. For there's damage done. Words as guns. Oh, the damage done for good. For good. This home is just some old wood and bone. These days are darker than they 'ought to be. In day dreams, everyone's gone insane. In day dreams, day dreams. For there's damage done. Stones and clubs Oh, the damage done for good. Oh the damage done. Words as guns. Oh, the damage done for good. For good.

about

Junkyard Recordings is an ongoing collection of home recordings (mostly recorded in my living room) released for the purpose of documenting, fun, sharing, raising funds for studio projects, for the heck of it etc… This is the first of the series. Please enjoy the “rawness” and lo-fidelity of this recording. A good friend of mine (Paul Reimer) quickly recorded these tracks with me in the living room of my small downtown Abbotsford apartment in February 2009. These recordings were meant for a video project we had in mind at the time, a project of which nothing ever came.

credits

released December 11, 2009

Franklyn Currie - Guitars, Vocals, Words & Music
Recorded and Engineered by Paul Reimer

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Franklyn Currie Abbotsford, British Columbia

"Born and raised where city meets country, Franklyn Currie finds inspiration for his emotive songs in the vast fields of the Fraser Valley, and the train-tracks and alleys lining the core of his small-town home, Abbotsford, BC. Driven by his passion for writing and making music, Currie’s soft-spoken, “alternative country” style blurs the edge between downhome and downtown..."
-trevor carolan-
... more

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