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    Our album "Repair" on compact disc. Comes in a 7" sleeve, with hand-inked jacket and lyrics. Limited to 100 copies.

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    Our album "Repair" on Cassette. Pale as snow and comes with lyrics. Limited to 25 copies.

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about

All songs written and performed by The Devil and a Penny.

Recorded, produced and mixed at (far away from) home by The Devil and a Penny.

Mastered by Bradford Krieger. Artwork by The Devil and a Penny.


Write:
thedevilandapenny@gmail.com


thedevilandapenny.com
newneighborrecords.com

credits

released 07 June 2013

tags

license

all rights reserved

feeds

feeds for this album, this artist
Track Name: New Song #1
And if you want to, I can
tell you that we're drifting stiff.
Increase of light in hindsight,
back of the head before the eyes.
On the mint green wall, the optical stain the crescent glass and sill.
Your silk sewn dress, shown your stitch.
Specimen, fields. Good.
There's clover in the afternoons.
And if we end up a tone,
broke and probably well, laughing.
No flags blow on the moon's wind,
you raised your hand and said "the journey's better when stiff."
And watched the shades bend a crease,
of light in the hindsight I said:
"If you like the human crisis, suggest you stay out of the cave."
And grab it all, taking
what you really need.
And you can leave, we're all ready.
Make it last.
Track Name: Mining Your Own
The sooner I forget about you,
left and rightfully so dead on.
We're through, playing around.
No more games, no more fun.
Don't you leather coriander, ripen to a lush I can touch.
What's left, is golden.
Broke, but not broken.
Stumbling around, like a critic of your own anatomy.
Don't respond enough to notice,
somewhere there's a line. And you crossed it.
What a heavy load, that's why no one wants to have it.
Shove a steak knife unkind, through the back of your habits.
You'd let a dog choke in broad daylight.
Tear a gash through a decade.
Track Name: Vs. Jimmy
Never lost your head,
until just then. Ropes and knuckle weights.
Open up that cut and run.
The neighborhood is fucked and in denial.
Drops like lead ideas into your head.
Some things you can't remember, and some you can't forget.
Pour the water in the wet bucket and pull the cabinets closed.
You went over that day,
fist clenched jaw tight.
Eyes wide open.
Out the front door, but it gets you nowhere.
Secretly, you're scared that they
have something over you (but they never had a chance).
Beat the furnishings into a black pulp.
The time you waste it moves, slow.
Think of how it feels to be.
Permanently empty.
Track Name: Make Myself Scarce
You'll never change your ways,
sullenly walk through a basement.
You used to know from all the shows,
writhing around like you meant it.
I'd rather not stand for that kind of meaning.
Just playing dead, waiting for someone to find me.
Turn into someone else.
You could go back home,
or herd sheep out in the country.
Run with wolves,
in the dark woods of Wyoming.
Breathe a sigh of relief,
where the oxygen feels clean.
Pulled apart the / land you slept in
the friends you made and / took for granted.
Track Name: Get at the Moose Edge
Pale as snow.
And you know, you're part of all of it.
And you know, there's no weight.
There's no end.
Sink become a piece of where you've been.