The End of the Day (An absence of Gin)
Words and Music by K. Southwell

well she's the queen of shiny trinkets at the end of the day
She's got shoes and hats in boxes at the end of the day
when the sun goes away, all she ever cares to do is
play a little banjo and have a little fun

Well, he buys her lots of treats at the end of the day
She never wants for anything sweet at the end of the day
His kisses are many, his presents are many
so why is she craving just a little misbehaving?

Heaven, well that's what she's in...
Unless, heaven... has never heard of gin!
Martinis... one olive or two?
for that she'd give her left foot, perhaps even a shoe!

What do you do, with all of those shoes at the end of the day?
what does it matter if everyone's chattering at the end of the day?
When the sun goes away, all she ever cares to do is
play a little banjo and have a little fun

Hush
Words and Music by K. Southwell

Charlie horse has a cloud over his head
and i'm a little worried, it's something I said
his colours are all faded and his eyes a little dull
his melancholy, bothers me

was it the misty drinks of yesteryear
the clink of the drink as it poured in his ear
was it the fanfare that played until dawn 
when the sun put itself to sleep, after a long yawn

And flying monkeys hunt you down in your sleep
so I walk the halls, stare at walls, don't dare to make a peep
and you stand there and you pause, 
for what reason for what cause
your melancholy, bothers me

was it the misty drinks of yesteryear
the clink of the drink as it poured in his ear
was it the fanfare that played until dawn 
when the sun put itself to sleep, after a long yawn

Words, they come easily, not so for decency
Sings the lovers tale of the lonely nightingale
Temptations and travesties, penchants and parodies
What's that they say about the play of the clouds and the rain?

 
hush little baby don't you cry
mama's at the whorehouse and your papa's getting high
hush little baby don't you cry

Charlie horse has a cloud over his head
and i'm a little worried, it's something I said

Icarus Falling
Words and Music by K. Southwell

He never looked at me when the sun was bright 
only took my hand in the grey moonlight 
and never told a soul of our true love
He courted me when the fields were dark
and when all were asleep then he'd have my heart 
and his favourite place to dance was the old graveyard. 

so we lived out our days
beneath the moon's yellow gaze
and so we breathed to the wind
and curled up within

He'd wisk me away in the dead of night
and we'd meet for picnics in the faded light
of a single chandelier, hanging in the garden
And every night we'd make love amidst, 
the sleeping flowers then,
in the hazy mist of the morn i'd fall asleep, 
eternally alone at dawn

so we lived out our days
beneath the moon's yellow gaze
and so we breathed to the wind
and curled up

icarus, when we stayed up all night 
creating stories that we'll never write
icarus, when we planned concerts and 
parties we'll throw in castles,
we'll never own

but I see that look in your eye
the one that says that you can fly
and the sky's, only a window away
and every day. Seems further away. 

so we lived out our days
beneath the moon's yellow gaze
and so we breathed to the wind
and curled up within

Reverie
Words and Music by K. Southwell

She had a style so sweet, a smile to make the fellas weep,
a way to make them feel complete and beautiful inside
Divine, she is the prize, her eyes, reflect desires
She takes them in, her boudoir dim, and fills their heads with lies

The velvet drapes are dusty in the hazy light of dawn,
beetles crawling down the walls &
in the kitchen livin' in every drawer,
Shadows flicker on the floor from the ceiling fan
The morn is quiet but her head is reeling,
'round in circles waiting to land

The fever never did subside, with a bourgeoisie, sense of pride
In the dazy haze of the morning light, filled with reverie
Delirium, rushing in, a marionette in a house of sin,
As the petite suite of strings begin, to play her song of sighs

The velvet drapes are dusty in the hazy light of dawn,
beetles crawling down the walls &
in the kitchen livin' in every drawer,

Shadows flicker on the floor from the ceiling fan
The morn in quiet but her head is reeling,
'round in circles waiting to land

The blackened waters, draw her under, 
she slips within its sweet caress
The silver folds, of her silken deathly shroud, 
dance beyond her lasting breath
She walks, through the day upon the earth, 
leaving behind a feathered trail
those that see her, through the murmur of a cry, 
unrequited, unveiled

The Boat Song
Words and Music by K. Southwell

She couldn't find her peace of mind
he couldn't wish for another wish
they couldn't swim far enough to bring
all of their love, to shore without drowning

he wandered far, he wandered fro
she wondered where there was left to go
And they couldn't swim far enough to bring
all of their love, to shore without....

as the tides rose high, watched their chance go by
to save themselves
so she built a row boat

The tide rose silently but violently (x2)
Save yourself, oh save yourself, oh save yourself

She floated high, she floated low,
cast no regrets she cast no shadow
still they couldn't swim far enough to bring
all of their, to shore without drowning

as the tides rose high, watched their chance go by
to save themselves
so she packed a row boat

The tide rose silently but violently (x2)
Save yourself, oh save yourself, oh save yourself

What I Got Here 
Words by D. Megarrity, Music by S. Vincent

When girls drink wine they're feeling fine
When boys drink beer they have no fear
They drink away, then they slink away
But I got something that's here to stay 

A little night cap can maybe hit you like a slap
But what I got here will fill your little gap
Bourbon's too suburban and rum's too glum
but what I got here, you gotta get you some 

What I got here / What I got here / What I got here / is you

with your glasses in a stack you've been on the cognac
but some of what I got will get those spirits back
Put some lead in your pencil and some sugar in your bowl
A bird and a bush and a little hand to hold 

Just a little slip between the cup and my lips
Stir me up with a fingertip.
Set down that glass because it's perfectly clear
You gotta get you some of what I got here 

I've got you in my bloodstream / Got you in my brain
Flow down to my toes / Then back to my heart again
Back to my heart 
You make it start again 

One taste one touch just the sight of you
if you freeze on me, I'll take a bite of you
Day and night, right up to the height of you
I'm loving what I got in spite of you

The Murder Ballad of Miss Belle Noir
Words and Music by K. Southwell

She wanders 'round the half moon passing. 
She fills her glass with flowing red.
She dances 'round the silver garden, 
dead flowers brushing past her legs. 

do do do, do do do do do do...

Night birds they prey upon her beauty, 
they beckon her to join their skein. 
They call to her in sweet surrender, 
collect the threads for her refrain. 

Whispered tales of wicked betrayals, 
Haunted souls and deafening wails
Their sweet song abates her defence, 
releases her hold on the world as she...
Ascends, Soaring high and laughing wild, 
her wicked delight
Ascends to deprive the stars their right, 
to shine on her night. 

Midnight she soars above the gardens, 
her blood red nails against her throat
Her skin translucent in the moonlight, 
her woeful song that was never spoke

In death she follows those that falter, 
her shrill cry piecing through the night
Her face reflected in the memories of 
those who murdered her in life

Whispered tales of wicked betrayals, 
Haunted souls and deafening wails
Their sweet song abates her defence, 
releases her hold on the world as she...
Ascends, Flying high and laughing wild, 
her wicked delight
Ascends to deprive the stars their right, 
to shine on her night. 

do do do do do do do do do do do...

Gracie of the Under World
Words and Music by K. Southwell

According this trip guide 
I've got one more sip to sip but I'd
rather skull it down

And I'm opening the pages
at random locations
and drink the words down

And you'd invent the ending using ink upon my skin
blue birds fly behind my eye they sing the tales within

Tiptoeing round the obvious, 
Sewing up the seams
Ruffle up the feathers and nestle in between

Layer by layer
tear off transparent skin
Odious and tangible, dig your fingers in

You smooth over the rought bits
and smile between the lines
Testing your resolve with a glass of fine wine
well it was fine, at the time
It was fine, at the time

I've musings to rattle the bones of the dead
Thoughts, like buzzards curl up in my bed.  
hunger like buzzards curls up in my bed.  

Everything's clear now, now that you're here now
now that the skies are blue

One of these times now, I'm gonna find out
what did happen to you

but for the time now, you're all mine now
life is all cherries and blooms

you can be calm now, right on my arm now
now that i'm together with you

For all the times we were apart, 
there was a dark cloud over my heart
For all the times that you were away, 
I cried all the night and all of the day....

The Merchants of Sin
Words and Music by K. Southwell

profits they trade / salvation made
in tasting the drink / of bitterness
they pass through the day pass through the night
groping around for a breath of life

tasting the reap of what they sew
welding a trophy of what they know
the greed in their eyes sharp and alive 
a hunger for that, which lives between their thighs

For the, merchants of sin they find such pleasure within 
the brave and delicate things that they 
Buy and sell with devilish whim (x 2)

you're standing so tall face to the wall
you're wishing away that once adored
falling upon each offered prize
tasting the treats of which you've been denied

the murmurs within they stir the din
the joker he smiles the bets are in
4 and 20 blackbirds, he tips it closed and signs, 
with your lips. 

For the, merchants of sin they find such pleasure within 
the brave and delicate things that they 
Buy and sell with devilish whim (x 2)

Everyone around here knows it's name
the bars are crawling with the same refrain
The street lights die, The trams go by
The brilliant ones lie, the weak ones die

All the precious things with their shiny toys
charming the devilish pants off those boys
the treasures they bring are bursting at the seams
you wish you were the queen of all those shiny shiny dreams
(bursting at the seams with all the treasure they bring
and you wish that you were the king)