RED DOLLARS

by Red Dollars

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about

Debut EP, 6 track solo project, My electric guitar (thanks Nick) myself, and some backing drum tracks. All lyrics my own except for several lines in "Scholar of War" which are taken from Stephen Crane's poem War is Kind, which was published in 1899, and a few words from Charles Bukowski in "Poverty". These stories are about the negative cycles we sometimes find ourselves in and how we try to escape them, sometimes for better and sometimes for worse. The music is sparse and relies heavily on the lyrical content. Making these songs public, my first attempt at writing songs and actually playing and singing at the same time was scarier than I first imagined. I hope you come away with something worthwhile.

credits

released November 17, 2014

All lyrics and music by Daniel E. Weddle except where noted. All album art and song art created by Daniel E. Weddle.

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about

Red Dollars Mountain Rest, South Carolina

Daniel E. Weddle was born in Charleston, SC, raised in Pittsburgh, PA , and now lives in a holler in North Carolina.

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Track Name: Beautiful Crook
Sitting at my table you’re the most beautiful crook
Across from me you settle giving me one of your dirty looks
Didn’t ask for you to come
Wouldn’t ask for you to leave
Can’t think of another place I’d hope for you to be
Your sometimes bloodied hands
Resting inside of mine
A coffee a tea we’ve still got ourselves some time
Who drew this crooked fable?
Who wrote this worthless map?
When I meet that old mapmaker I’m gonna have him take it all back
Sirens and bloodhounds
And the rattle of convict chains
Nothing in this world has yet driven me to pray
Oh that wicked lawman
Married to the righteous thief
Who will go? Who will go down?
This time is ever brief
Who drew this crooked fable scratched beneath my feet?
Who wrote this worthless map crumpled under our seat?
When the bloodhounds are at our door
It’s a final thing we’ll meet
Finish your tea love and go and get your gun
Wash your hands and say a prayer
To the devil or your angel
Neither one does care
Track Name: Tricky Constellation
She drew a tricky constellation and called it her dog
It looked like a sketch of me wasted in the fog
She tasted like light
She tasted like the blind
She tasted like a broken nose
And something else that's hard to find
Even heaven suffers violence and hell has its quiet days
Here we are marching black highway parades
Hubcaps and better ways
We stack roadside altars, park the car and pray
Here lay down the artifacts of her final days
Senior photo, rabbits foot on a chain
Light a candle, leave a mixtape,
Get drunk and pour some out
The letter that you’ve left will dissolve in the rain
So we drive drive drive out to the edge of town
And cry cry cry till it’s our only sound
Tilt your head back and swallow
Tilt your head back and swallow
Trying to erase yesterday, and every other coming tomorrow
I am her dog
And here I am
Wasted in the fog
Track Name: Scholar of War
Please my sister do not cry
For your brother lost in the field
Please don’t cry my sister
Your brother was one of mine
A son of war a battle god, meant to drill and die
Do not weep girl, for war is kind
And though corpses fill the field tonight
Those souls who’d thirsted for fight
Have found their bellies filled and tight
And have entered a perfect night
Please don’t cry, love
For your brothers in the field
Pointing with crooked finger to the virtue of the kill
The glory of the slaughter, the excellence of the waste
A dead man knows better than most
But do not weep sister
For now those souls that are stilled
Waiting for barbarians, who know that war is kind
Please don’t cry, sister
For those minds we’ve lost in time
Your brother lies in the field of grisly dying
Carried upon a wicked sky
He was a son of war, a battle god
Meant to drill and die
Do not weep girl, for war is kind
Please don’t cry sister
Your brother was one of mine
Track Name: Poverty
It is the man you’ve never seen who knows the switches
Keeps you going or what happens when you stop
He isn’t out on the streets or even cold
In the buildings or in the shelter rifling the lost and found
No one who has ever looked hard enough
ever walks away empty handed
Not in the stadiums with the slave gladiators
Or if he’s there he’s hard to recognize
I’ve missed him somehow these last few weeks
But it wasn’t for lack of trying
He isn’t one of our president’s favorite men
Or stateswomen or actor’s with a beard and an academy statue
Apologizing for how well they play the fool
I wonder if he’s there behind the refinery tanks
Rolling a cigarette with blackened fingertips
And two lungs full of Saudi gold
I walk down the streets head down counting scuffles
Past drugstores and hospitals and other places where dying is done
Theatres and cafes selling atmosphere
I wonder if he’s there warming himself
Over a borrowed coffee or stolen beer
It is the man, it is the man, it is the man
You’ve never seen who knows the switches
Who keeps you going or what happens when you stop
Track Name: Grave of a Child's Game
I found myself in the grave of a child’s game
Stones and sticks , sticks and stones it’s all the same
Abalone coin and a tangled seaweed crown
Tide pools dried by a witches fool moon spell
Scattered plastic from cap gun shells
Ten more years it’ll be funeral bells
Grey suits and black dresses, even jesus has been to hell
Of all the friends I’ve left behind
In my never ending search of a better time
Of all the mates I’ve abandoned on the road
Trying to get nowhere and find myself grown
When the road to somewhere ends up dead
And we find ourselves lying in each our own beds
I’ll think of you and cry awhile
Try to remember the taste of your candied smile
A confederated blanket wrapped tight around her burlap bones
She said she’s send me a telegram when the coast was clear
So I could get off the lam and get the fuck outta here
Away from the martial music of this shines out Appalachian band
I’m just a dirty old thief cutting off his own hand
Well I found myself in the grave of a child’s game
Stones and sticks sticks and stones it’s all the same
Fasten the future with thrift shop picture wire
Hung a bit crooked but perfect for awhile
So throw fire on fire on fire
so throw fire on fire on fire
Object of your second hand desire
Switch backs and the two steps up
Switch backs and the three slides down
Always looking up but always going down
Of all the friends I’ve left behind
In my never ending search of a better time
Of all the mates I’ve abandoned on the road
Trying to get nowhere and find myself grown
Oh how longs it been, oh how long its been
Seems like an age or two, a lifetime that’s been run through
Track Name: Chasing Rabbits
We’re chasing rabbits beyond the silver screen
Our bodies like tin worn thin by the rain and the clatter
Bags of bones, bags of bones
dragged through the desert to be scattered
We divide our empty spaces evenly
Into equal absences of room
We quietly pass on through
Across these ancient dinosaur highways
Whose shoulders shrug beneath our weight
And when the engines of our bodies one day break
Lay us down among the rocks
Lay us down among the rocks
And scratch our names into a tree
I hope you will forget me, love
But not so quickly please
Out here we’re chasing rabbits
Beyond the silver screen
Feasting on our sweethearts’ tiny catastrophes
I hope you will forgive me love
I hope you will forget me love
But not so quickly please
Lay us down among the rocks
Lay us down among the rocks
And scratch our names into a tree
I hope you will forgive me love
I hope you will forget me love
But not so quickly please