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Marriage

by Groom

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Dana S.
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Dana S. Doorways is jazzy, brassy, and broody; bass and drum-driven to start. Love the combination of despondent lyrics and the burst of trumpets: "you - don't - love - me - ba-da-ba-BAHDAH!" Fantastic contrast! This track grabs me and pulls me in every time I hear it. Favorite track: Doorways.
Audra Morrison
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Audra Morrison Groom sounds like what would happen if you slashed the Hong Kong Cavaliers with R.E.M.

That is not a complaint. Favorite track: My Bohemian Life Part II.
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1.
Don’t park your heart here It doesn’t fit And you don’t even have a permit I will clamp it We don’t fall in love We get stuck quick Like two cormorants in an oil slick I wouldn’t risk it Don’t bring this sadness on yourself Please fall in love with someone else Don’t bring this sadness on yourself Please fall in love with someone else Don’t park your heart here I’ll clip its wings And it’ll never fly, or roam free Never roam free I just can help it This cycle’s mine My soul’s been through the dark wash too many times One too many times So don’t believe the things I say Just have some sense and get away Don’t believe the stupid shit I say Just have some sense and get away And find yourself a decent boy With a decent job And an even plan Who treats you like the queen we all know you are A decent haircut and a working car Don’t sit on stairways Don’t stare in doorways Don’t swallow chewing gum Don’t park on clearways Don’t be unhappy Don’t get drunk daily Don’t be a fool Don’t work for free Don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t cry, don’t moan Don’t piss, don’t fight, don’t fart And don’t park your heart here You’re a butterfly and I’m the lowest, Lowest, Lowest, Lowest Form of life Way below pond life So cut your losses, cut them now And when the darkness falls leave town Cut your losses, cut them now And get the first bus out of town
2.
As the town dust settles on my wrinkles And this old pain settles behind my eyes I ponder how they lost their twinkle Along with my bohemian life I am respected in this townland And with all my good work that’s my right But what if way back when I’d cut loose And lived a bohemian life And you tell me every day you love me You there, with your powdered face and your trousered thigh I tell myself that, yes, this is love And I try to do you right But picture you in a flower garden Your hair paying homage to the sunlight Picture you in love as you might As my bohemian wife I could throw this paper in the shredder My two weeks holidays per year I could throw it all away forever Leave, and never come back here My dedication to your company Is nothing more than a hill of sand I could turn the hourglass right around now And be a bohemian man As the town light makes shadows of my wrinkles I shuffle all my work and sigh Somewhere a distant star twinkles And that’s my bohemian life Time to turn in now and reconnect the dots Tomorrow is another day in the bosom of my family
3.
Doorways 06:30
Buttons missing from my coat My back is broke My greying face is wincing now I feel a steady rising sickness coming from my feet And then sinking down I doodle pictures of a hangman’s noose I fumble with my key and chain The front door reminds me of my esteem for you As undiluted, blinding pain As if I need reminding that you don’t love me You pause at the doorpost That smiling girl’s a forgotten ghost And your downturned mouth And every plodding step towards the bathroom Reminds how life has beat you down You turn the mirror Towards your sagging eyes, expanding thighs and falling bust And say how I’m like the books you read at school Rather dull, and full of dust As if I need reminding that you don’t love me And this could all mean nothing, and you’ll remember nothing By the canal I watch the young lovers confess Maybe I need new in-soles or I’m just depressed Old women and old men will feel this way, I guess Rewind the camera, buy a newspaper and go home for your tea Good bye, good bye, good bye We’ve sat in rooms as cold as tombs Thinking of How we were not meant to be analysed, or scrutinised Just to be loved As if I need reminding that you don’t love me This could all mean nothing. You’ll remember nothing.
4.
Windows 02:49
5.
It seems too long since we once shared a room together And now I see you listed in some famous science paper And memories of you now float like water vapour Though they once were so sublime We ran through corridors and smelt the dust and learning And blazed like meteors pulled in by the earth’s yearning Your eyes were copper blue, my heart was all for turning But yours was water, crystalline You unveiled the mysteries of life And I’d die just to have you here again You unveiled the mysteries of life All those insincere and thoughtless things you said We’d languish afternoons and make weekends of Mondays And play your copied tapes of Slowdive and the Sundays You’d change how this world turns with me beside you some day Or that’s how I thought it would be We’d share a microscope and count small things to pass time You’d share your thoughts with me and I’d put them all to rhyme And droplets of your breath would intermingle with mine It was liquid entropy Now you unveil the mysteries of life And I’d go through death just to have you here again You unveil the mysteries of life All those insincere and heartless things you said Mysteries of life hold me in the lowest place Keep the boot down on my face Digging through the dirt of everyday These white coats remind me of the sycophants around you And all the things I said I’d do but never got around to You left to find yourself, how come I never found you? And how come you never found me When you unveil the mysteries of life? And I’d sit through Napalm Death just to have you here again You unveil the mysteries of life All those insincere and heartless things you said You unveil the mysteries of life
6.
What’s to become of Jean? Her students pile in with their music sheets The smell of rosin and the tune-up screech And poor technique - some days can’t end too soon And old familiar tunes The Sing Hosanna and the Claire de Lune Fill empty spaces in old Georgian rooms Where floorboards creak As does my ageing pulse this afternoon In 6/8 time I feel you move sometimes I feel your thoughts and your heart meet mine But words can be so shallow When music flows to and fro My notes cling to the stave Like brooding ravens cawing from the grave When semi-quavers dance right off her page How my arms ache And what’s to become of Jean? The students saunter home in twos and threes And giggle past her on Haightsbury street She’s home at five Two porcelain dogs say hi Well, so would I I feel you move sometimes I feel your thoughts and your heart meet mine But words can seem so shallow When music flows to and fro I stand and watch cars pass by Then so do I I feel you move sometimes I feel your thoughts and your heart meet mine Words can seem so hollow When music flows to and fro
7.
Stairways 04:40
The painter sat there on a stairway Contemplating rain And other inconveniences Drips from the leaky ceiling hit his in-betweeniences Oh, essence of life Oh, dilution of it all And then she joined him on the stairway Uncoiled her elbows and knees and then released the unsaid Like the last verse of a song she’d started inside her head “The baby sitter’s gone, I’ve put the kettle on. “How could you do this to me? Sit here between love and me? I’m so tired of our words I feel it like a tragedy That what I say just makes a fool of me “I wish we had blue-collar problems That you could fix in minutes with your fists Or a good old lock-out Put paid to conversance because, my dear, I’m all talked out. Wouldn’t that be nice? No more creeping ‘round like woodlice. “How could you do this to me? Sit here between love and me? I feel so tired of our words I feel it like a tragedy But what you say just makes a fool of me” The painter shifted on the stairway Contemplating colour Unchanged and undiluted The leaky ceiling wept to his right just where she had He thought he might paint it all Then shivered right down to his balls
8.
Lily came home on the bus from her college a week ago Stayed in her room with her medical books and took long walks by the train tracks She said “Dad, you’re a self-loathing Irishman” And he said “Lil, that’s not fair. I hate everyone else just as much, Hate them all just as much, hate them all just as much, Hate them all just as much, hate them all just as much, Hate them all just as much…” And as she left the room he kept saying as much As for you If I ever bore you Use these signs to warn you If I would ever bore you, if I ever bore you Andy would comment that politics never excited him Rhetoric too And though he’d engage with the soul of a party He’d usually leave on all fours And the counselors said that “wandering ‘round in France Might be good for your tan but you won’t find romance No romance, you will find no romance You will find no romance, you will find no romance You will find no romance, you will find no romance You will find no romance.” Well, of course you’ll think this if you never dance As for you If I ever bore you Concentrate on the road before you And I’ll of course write to you If you ever get bored But don’t come back to Dublin Just to become one of them. Nouveau-riche observers With nothing new to say. Lily will die in white-rimmed glasses at fifty-three With an unnamed husband with too many teeth No witnesses and no memories of her many complaints And Andy will wake up on honeymoon with a French burlesque star Drunk on wine in a Perpignan bar And, veiny-eyed and stiletto-scarred, he’ll run like the wind He will run like the wind, he will run like the wind He will run like the wind, he will run like the wind He will run like the wind Life and liver caving in As for you If you ever get bored of me Just do what’s best and leave me But do spare a thought for me If you ever get bored Monday, I’ll be out on the road with my job And then Tuesday, I might sell some home conveniences Wednesday I’ll make some money lying to people And then Thursday, I’ll sing a song about the days of the week Friday, I’ll be back to my home and my family And then Saturday, I might watch some sport on TV And then Sunday, I’ll go down to the track and I’ll strangle a man And Monday, I’ll be back out on the road again Andy and Lily walked up to the graveyard late at night And looked at their town all wasting in light They sighed and they smiled and they held hands tight And they had nothing to do
9.
Town life—it’s the clustering of algae ‘round your head It’s the drab haircuts on indie kids The gougers on your sleeve who won’t let go Well, let go Take the train as far as it will reach Past the geometric roads in squares The bag-infested colonies The bilge and froth of beercan leach But to where? I don’t know What’s the point in a country town And middle managers grafted there? The tractors and machinery Peering over walls like four-year-olds So to where? To County Mayo’s open cliffs To hear the whistle of country, lost? We’ll drive right off those open cliffs Let seagulls watch us crashing through the air I ran through the carriages, sun flashes reflecting in The myriad lives of husbands and wives Rattling into oblivion Wake up! quick! and let the sun in The drunk man’s gone home, dead and tired Wake up, open out the windows And shake the dust down off your eyes
10.
I will always remember you Putting your grey bag in your car There in your white uniform As I walked away, spinning tales And as I strolled down Bloomfield Avenue My heart spun around in the day All the people with dollar signs over their heads In this golden age This golden age Golden and sleazy Glowing and teasing So fragrantly pleasing Yet so lazy and easy Oh did I spend so much time, back in school, with my biros and maths Just to give all my sweat to a state that’s unburdened and crass? A society bored and undaring This city life, tiring and wearing (oh, it’s so wearing on the senses) Commuters with chemicalled armpits Robotic limbs hold up the train I’m just counting the hours till I see you again And your golden face Golden face Golden and shining Lustrous and brightening There in the doorway Patiently smiling I will always remember you Holding those three lights in your arms As I walked back up Bloomfield Avenue A swing in my step to meet you And though we won’t write the book on happiness Without footnotes on every page We’ll keep these lights burning oh-so-bright In this golden age Golden age Golden and shining Lustrous and brightening Just a little bit frightening So is it the right thing To dwell on what you’ve said Or on some things that I did When Death’s waiting for us Patiently smiling?

about

'Marriage' by Groom, released on Popical Island.

This is a gapless album. Yeah that's right, this means the songs run into each other, progtastically! So please make sure when you download it that GAPLESS PLAYBACK is configured in your iTunes/iPod or whatever other doohickey player you're using, if it's not already. In iTunes, just select all tracks, then select File - Get Info. Click the Options tab and select the Gapless album checkbox.

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released August 21, 2010

Written by Michael Stevens. Performed by Groom. Recorded and mixed by Steve Shannon.

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