Picking Through The Pawn Shop

2011-picking_through_the_pawnshop_large-150x150Release Date: February, 2011

Buy on CD Baby!

Buy on Bandcamp!

Picking Through The Pawn Shop. A year in the making, Picking Through The Pawn Shop is a fully produced, ten song album rendered in the heart of downtown Asheville, NC.

Lyrics by Chelsea Lynn La Bate

1. Galileo

You are here
a tiny speck
on this shiny fleck
in the not so middle of,
the not so middle of

You are here
on this orb of ocean
the north pole’s less frozen
and you’re tied up and twisted
about self promotion

You are here
floating on this who knows what
settled stardust going nuts
look, look, looking up
we’re look, look, looking up

Galileo
tell us something we don’t know
take us where we long to go
put the sun in the middle
the sun in the middle

Galileo
stand for knowledge we fear most
raise our eyes and stun our ghosts
put the sun in the middle and let us go

Now this all looks silly from outer space
a shrunken head
a misplaced grace
a long lost dime
without it’s face

I’m bidding low
I’m aiming high
the planets pose
the comets fly
you’ll never know so
try, try, try

2. Marco Polo

Where is my wife?
Where is my home?
I’ve lost my work i’m all alone
the pipes of my life are frozen
my will to live, overthrown

Where is our water?
Where is our food?
the dirt is starving
births no wood
the rice we planted is no good
we have collapsed where we once stood

Marco . . . ..

Where is my country?
Where is my psalm?
though shall not kill is camouflaged
in the sand paper planes abroad
for the rich man’s oil
i gave my son

Marco . . .. .

We’ve called on the angels for relief
with fingerless hands they’ve watched us weep
their heads are heavy eyes deep
silently they share defeat

Are you out there?
Are you far?
if i can find the stage
i’ll find your heart
this road’s been heavy
it’s been hard
where’s there’s death
there’s a start

Marco. . . .. .Polo

3. Fifty Foot Flames

You pry apart the lips
of a fifty cent lawn chair
garage sale bargain
lock jawed with sea air

There’s nothing in this town
but a lost child’s theater
you passed my house a thousand times
but you didn’t know I lived there

why does it take
fifty foot flames
to walk across the streets
to learn our neighbors names?

The shingles slide like playing cards
the windows melt like taffy
the door frames snap like toothpicks
smoke bitter brown as coffee

Your flushed with blush
Igneous
Firey fingers flick at us

We take a turn to watch it burn
a heated urn
To love, love, love
We love to learn
We learn to burn

4. Piano Bench

I come to you with my nursery rhymes
in the these New York times
You pull out your piano bench
The battles blaze the babies take shape
the face of your heart appears through the haze

Cause we’ve built this monument
a modest brigade
Laid out our blankets in one another’s shade

And you say kiss my eyes
lay the soft parts of your body on the hard times of my life
I’ve tried my best here to follow the directions right
It’s been a mixture of effort, love and time

We come to that place where the weather changes
and the lights dim and the water drains
And the hand that we’re holding withdraws and swaps names
the steering wheel sways the car changes lanes

Cause we don’t have an escape plan
Or a way out of here
Or a filtration system to manage our fears

And you say kiss my eyes
lay the soft parts of your body on the hard times of my life
I’ve tried my best here to follow the directions right
It’s been a mixture of effort, love and time

I come to you with my nursery rhymes
in the these New York times
You pull out your piano bench

5. Anticipating Evolution

In the time it took
the newlyweds
to compromise
to make their beds
the owl flew

The guards rearranged their positions
the stars underwent significant transitions
and the sages knew
they’d done all they could do

They sent each other off
With a shaking head and a chiseled cough
Then they sent each other off
Stop watch stopped, luggage lost

How long can you stand by
relentless sun swarming flies
Anticipating evolution sleep in your eyes

Who will give back your prize
Crooked crown oversized?

They sent each other off
With a shaking head and a chiseled cough
Then they sent each other off
Stop watch stopped, luggage lost

6. Prince in a Pawn Shop

If your words were blades
this carpet would be red
You’re satisfied with your technique
but your greatest lover’s dead

Prince in a pawn shop
Fondling the gears
of the poor town’s locomotive
of the union’s hard clocked years
What have you done?

What have you done for the village?
Who have you helped for a dime?
When have you plated up the slices of your life?
Without notating the time?

And now we have this air to breathe
with it’s heaviness and rye
You’ve poisoned the well you see
are you satisfied?
What have you done?

7. Shallow Breathing (featuring Mike Grubbs of Wakey! Wakey!)

Horse on my chest
Wandering the outskirts
The sensation of rest
is the soul turned outwards

A frozen stream
winds through your house
You loose the hand
to the craving of the mouth

Now I have nothing but this shallow breathing
a salted shell an awkward season
meet me on the outskirts

I broke out vessel
put down faith
Backed up from the dust cloud
Of what I claimed I loved
and what I threw
what I claimed I loved and what I blew
what I claimed I loved and what I blew
away

Now I have nothing but this shallow breathing
a salted shell an awkward season
meet me on the outskirts

We have nothing but this shallow breathing
a salted shell an awkward season
meet me on the outskirts

8. Patterns of Flight

Another meal alone
another blackened night
moths flapping at a single bulb
eating all the light

I still have our coals burning
the melodies and the lines
looping like the coasters
in the fairgrounds of my mind

these slow, slow, slow bites
of fast, fast, fast food
may be the end
of my knowledge of anything good

and there was something i came back
i came back here to find
in this old card catalog
in this palindrome of mine

i remember what you said
your handwriting hasn’t faded
the outline of your body would still be here
had i waited

these slow, slow, slow bites
of fast, fast, fast food
may be the end
of my knowledge of anything good

9. Savannah

Radiant prism
holy water you are the
last vile of untouched earth
the farmer’s virgin daughter

I’m in your pickup in Savannah
ghosts and bearded moss toads
mating in the coy pond
windows down we’re lost

Endangered species
petal amongst thorns you are a
venom-less cobra
rhino no horn

I count my scars
my lies my messes
my warts and flaws
my blood stained dresses

I know this seat is taken
i’ll try another my door
my stability’s been shaken
i feel like loose change on your floor
loose change

I want to jar and cage you
hold you glowing in my hand
round up your shiny pieces
like the neighborhoods crushed cans

This storm has kept us inside
let’s take the waitress home
we’ll leave our numbers on the table
Joni Mitchell on the radio
i know your room ain’t vacant
cause i’m out here on the streets
with the man selling carnations
we’re begging in our wet bare feet
but as i cross the parking lot
i caught you looking one last time
what will a king like you do
with these nickels and dimes?

Radiant prism
holy water, holy water, holy water. . .

10. Twilight of Your Love

I’ve checked the cupboards
all the jars and drawers
recycling centers
salvation army stores

the stand ins and substitutes have proved to be a bore
I’ve cataloged your footprints
I’ve swallowed your shore

I called on the owl, raven and whale
despite all my madness
the truth still prevailed

If we invest in the flighty, the fleeting and the frail
what will be the outcome
when all systems fail?

Split ends went shifting
loose knots went missing
I’m snake toothed and hissing
in the twilight of your love