On a freight train bound for Rodeo, retired balladeer
With half a mind to save some time and end the ride right here
A little blue, a little blue, I was humming this here tune
And I stared the face of death down
Yeah but death, he didn't move
So I caught the stop on Rodeo and tumbled from the train
A mist of beer and whiskey fleeing foully from my veins
If the accusal is sedition and the penalty is pain
Oh you members of the jury, please permit me to explain
That I don't need another song
I don't need another song
I don't need another God damn Trottin' Song
I am done
Well, in shambles I resurfaced to a gang of arsonists
Offering me to a posse who slapped handcuffs 'round my wrists
"It was you, it was you!" they with ashen face accused
Then they dragged me to the church house
Where the fire first was loosed
And in pure collective odium they hurled me into hell
The preacher at the podium a rhythmic burning bell
And with each deafening strike, an offer to absolve and quell
All these famished flames of sin, I swear the devil's been expelled
And I don't need another song
I don't need another song
I don't need another God damn Trottin' Song
No, I don't need another song
I don't need another song
I don't need another God damn Trottin' Song
I am done
So I loaded all my demons onto less fortunate souls
And though I've vomited the feeling I still taste it in my throat
In the flesh, in the ghosts, in the tearing of my clothes
In the breasts of fifty women and in the fetuses that grow
In the wombs of fifty mothers on the trot to fifty shows
And so I lock arms with my family before they've all let go
I sink in faceless agony as I already know
That each one sees just the bad in me, the alley calico
So quick and careless with his lovers
Brothers, sisters, children
No, I do not need another song
I don't need another song
I don't need another God damn Trottin' Song
No, I don't need another song
I don't need another song
I don't need another God damn Trottin' Song
I am done
Sotted, staggering, slovenly sequestered in this bar
On my right a spoony siren, on my left loyal guitar
And in this booze, in this booze, the influence to confuse
Soft and sweet spurious verses with a veridical muse
So we ambled down the avenue that led to the motel
Not only was I seeing double, I was believing it as well
A little screw, a little screw, another biopic to sell
The day my breath just left me and the axe finally fell
Well, some call me a troubadour, some claim I lack a soul
Because I've buried all my politics in dusty desert holes
More control, more control, hefting heavy loads of goal
I am content I never spent time bent in venture to keep hold
Framed in febrile footlights, crooned an unobtrusive ode
Just a few lines once forgotten, now pronounced in brazen bold
"Is it you, is it you?" in a canticle they cooed
And their eyes bled with compassion as I passed out of their view
And a few maintain my last refrain still meanders in this room
And to a cluster of companions left abandoned to no end
I impart an explanation, tandem never was my trend
Oh, you magnanimous beauties, ever constant to defend
The memory of this vicious lover, this insidious has-been
I'll never need another song
I don't need another song
I don't need another God damn Trottin' Song
No, I don't need another song
I don't need another song
I don't need another God damn song
No, I don't need another song
I don't need another song
I don't need another God damn Trottin' Song
I am done
Justin Wiles is a singer-songwriter whose compositions are centered around intricate, delicate, melodic guitars and poetic lyrics. His DIY recording style often includes dense musical arrangements and many layered vocals.
Really excellent experimental chamber pop, for fans of The Olivia Tremor Control, Circulatory System, New Pornographers. Listening pleasure amplified by simultaneous lyric-reading. Justin Wiles
Like The National, DWH puts dark ambient twists on folk ballads. My favorites tend to settle into a groove, with layers that ebb and flow, and ultimately swell to crescendo. Justin Wiles
The enigmatic Frank Ene's solo record lives in a magical world where Serge Gainsbourg fronts Yellow Magic Orchestra. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 17, 2022
A female voice that feels out of another century quivers over a folk harp on the 11 tracks that make up this exclusive video album. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 14, 2016
