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lyrics

We had nothing but repugnance
for the boy behind the door
whose affliction was his asset,
his excuse to ask for more.
While the rest of us were inmates
locked away in twos or threes,
all the sick boy had to live with
was his nebulous disease.

Now, we have never seen the sick boy.
We don't even know his name.
We don't know what eats his body,
but we hate him all the same,
and on a sleepy Sunday evening,
conversation wearing thin,
we convened outside the sick boy's door,
and on an impulse, busted in.

A well-made bed, a desk lamp, lit,
a stack of books, a comfortable place to sit,
a water glass, a plastic comb,
a photo and a letter, and no one home.

And this beastly little squirrel,
frothy-mouthed and rabid-eyed,
darted wildly around the room,
looking for a place to hide,
slammed it's head in to the doorsill,
briefly hesitated there,
then ran bleeding down the hallway,
and vanished down the stairs.

A funny thing, a kind of pet!
We want to laugh, or else forget
this seeping cold, this creeping fear.
The night is young, we can't stay here.

Though the mercury was falling,
we went howling through the town,
rattled all the darkened windows,
tried to shout the buildings down,
nullified the city charters,
held our own pro forma election,
rammed our flag into the center
of every sleepy intersection,
lit a fire in the library,
muzzled all those screaming fools,
castrated every city father
with his own blunt, rusty tools.
But we signed our deeds with pseudonyms
that were almost all the same,
thinking if we just persisted,
we'd forget our given names.

With my hat in hand, I'm heading back upstairs.
With my hat in hand, but without regret.
With the burning patience of my health,
I'm heading back upstairs
to greet a friend I've never met. (Boy, where have you been?)

credits

from Repetitions of the Old City - II, released June 1, 2018
Damon Waitkus - vocals, acoustic, electric, baritone and piccolo guitars, mandolin, keyboards, percussion, wine glasses, field recordings
Emily Packard - violin, melodica
Kate McLoughlin - bassoon, vocals, recorder, car horn
Jason Hoopes - bass, voice, piano guts, car horn
Jordan Glenn - drums, percussion, vibraphone, marimba, bells, melodica,
Thea Kelley - vocals
Ivor Holloway - tenor saxophone

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Jack O' The Clock Oakland, California

JACK O' THE CLOCK "presents a fine lesson on what it means to write songs that are at once approachable and human while simultaneously being incredibly profound in terms of timbre, depth of emotion, and harmonic complexity," Progulator.

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