Get all 4 Eric Kiefer - Wordsmith and Troubadour releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Life Is Soup. I'm A Fork., Spoken Word For The Doomed, The New Zeitgeist: Songs from the Zombie Apocalypse, and The Spectre and the Dozer.
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2. |
Destroy the Brain
02:55
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The day has come when the dead have risen, apocalypse is sharpening its scythe
No longer living and past forgiving you can see it in the black of their eyes
The rotting flesh of their former faces, resemblance lacking little to none
And the awful moan as they shamble home is the first of all the nightmares to come
Better get on the run
Better get out your gun
Better look towards the sun, ‘cause there ‘aint no mercy tonight
The desperate hunger that fills their souls, a craving that can never be slaked
Unnamed virus that drives them on, searching for a mouthful of brains
Just one bite from their bloody maws, another zombie shortly be born
And the distant reek of decaying meat creeps across the merciless morn
Better get on the run
Better get out your gun
Better look towards the sun, ‘cause there ‘aint no mercy tonight
Gotta destroy, gotta destroy, gotta destroy the brain…
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3. |
A Breaking News Report
01:36
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4. |
In the Little Days
03:56
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Reruns at five, Super Bowl live, oh to survive in the Little Days
Waiting on line, loans to co-sign, while giving your time to the Little Days
Steaks and lo-mein, video games, hard to complain ‘bout the Little Days
Cellular phones, permanent homes, and yet all alone in the Little Days
You never learned to gamble with the dice you bring
You never learned to cry, you never learned to sing
Worrying ‘bout bills, in homes on the hill, regretting our kills in the Little Days
Parking in lots, cooking in pots, showers ran hot in the Little Days
Electric guitar, gas for your car, drinks at the bar in the Little Days
Drowning amidst, a sea of indifference, our time came and went in the Little Days
You never learned to gamble with the dice you bring
You never learned to cry, you never learned to sing
And so it seems we’ve lived our dreams
And all that ends well all that ends
Bless truth, bless trust, bless hope blame Jesus
For all the things you don’t believe
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6. |
End of the World
05:36
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7. |
Let Me Tell You a Story
03:30
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There’s a song about a block the city tried to hide
It’s where you’d go if you became a victim of the corporate fratricide
The block was lit up by the oil drum fire-fireside
Their children fed upon the crumbs the people walking by supplied
One night a swarm of eyes, lit up like fires in the dark
And though the panic spread when snapping teeth began to meet their mark
No help in sight or reach, no army sure as hell no Noah’s ark
Cut off from everyone, an island down on 43rd and Park
Without a further haste they set their will against the storm
And using garbage bins they jury-rigged a fortress ‘gainst the swarm
With baseball bats and broken bottles, wrapped in blankets to stay warm
They lasted 90 hours and watched their world devour and transform
T’was in their darkest hour when hope had finally been reshaped
They knocked a hole into a wall and made a Hollywood escape
They found the biggest yacht they could and took off sailing down the cape
Here’s hope that in the end they learned exactly how much blood to take
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KZMB Identification
00:50
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10. |
For the Bugs
04:50
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This is for the bugs, this is for the creatures on the road
This is for the roach in my abode, this is for the bugs
This is for the worms, this is for the flies and the gnats
All the creatures God has begat, this is for the bugs
I’m sorry ‘bout my hand, I’m sorry that it struck you down
I’m sorry for the soul shakedown, this for the bugs
You never meant to harm, you only meant to play your part
A tiny piece of anti-art, this is for the bugs
But we all gotta go, we all gotta go, we all gotta go –
But we all gotta go, we all gotta go, we all gotta go –
This is for the pests, left without an epitaph
I play this song on your behalf, this for the bugs
This is for the winged ones crawling ‘cause they’re crippled with despair
And the cold rain falling as it washes down the stairs
And it sweeps away the bodies and in short time no one cares about the bugs
This is for the bugs, this is for the creatures on the ground
This is for the lost and for the found, this is for the bugs
This is for us all, this is for the human race
Tiny as a bug from space, this is for the bugs
But we all gotta go, we all gotta go, we all gotta go –
But we all gotta go, we all gotta go, we all gotta go –
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11. |
Red Zone Report
03:52
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12. |
The Man
03:44
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13. |
DJ Banter
00:43
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Your mother your father your sister your brother your family your neighbors your lord and savior are dead
Your city your nation your multiplication your summer vacation your carbonation is dead
Dead dead dead dead dead…
Your leaders your teachers your cheering cheerleaders your butter and bread your inspiration is dead
Your girlfriend your whore your petite amour the girl at the local convenience store she is dead
Dead dead dead dead dead…
Your lawyers your rebels your bass and your treble, feeling well-fed – well that sensation is dead
Your dreamers your liars your wholesale suppliers your desperate denial the final solution is dead
Dead dead dead dead dead…
Your reason your lectures your finance directors your fed’ral inspectors your Hannibal Lecters are dead
Your lovers your killers your liquor distillers, your stock’s in the red, your human history’s dead
Dead dead dead dead dead…
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15. |
Evolution
05:06
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16. |
Signing Off
01:37
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17. |
Danny Canyon
02:54
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Eric Kiefer - Wordsmith and Troubadour Rutherford, New Jersey
Eric Kiefer is an award-winning writer, modern-day troubadour and 15-year factotum. Learn more about the artist and download awesome stuff at www.TheKiefer.com
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