1. |
The Curling Fields
04:13
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THE CURLING FIELDS
Oh Death,
Hear my appeal
Take me from these curling fields
Born to a bitter man
A victim of his fate
A broken destiny
Was written on his face
You will toil
Work the soil
All your years
Son you see
You’ll never leave
These curling fields
On empty stomachs
No breakfast to consume
The workers shuffle
Through the never-ending gloom
Wicked hoes to carve the rows
To please the mighty mitts
Dragging off the bounty to
The endless frying pits
Bloody soil, scalding oil
Mixed with tears
Life goes by, I lift my cry
To deaf ears
Oh Death,
Hear my appeal
Take me from these curling fields
Oh Death
Hear my appeal
Take me from these curling fields
Five generations lost
Five more yet to come
Disenfranchised
Crushed under his thumb
On mighty steeds
he oversees
A wasted land
My body’s broken
I’ve got nothing left to weep
Trudge past the pastures
Where my ancestors now sleep
My severed fingers
My twisted back
Laid upon the altar
Of his all-consuming Hat
Lifetime gone
Pain drags on
Through the years
But there will come the one
Who frees us from our bonds
And rings the bell
A orphan born of hate
Will seal the masters’ fate
The stories tell
In smoking peaks
He’ll find your weakness
And the refuge of your soul
And He’ll release us
To the sweetness of that
Never-ending toll
When death
Heeds our appeal
And breaks you on these curling fields
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2. |
The Legend of John Arby
04:32
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THE LEGEND OF JOHN ARBY
Thought he brought salvation
When he overran the state
Pushing civilization
Filling every plate
His bold creations
All the children ate
No satiation
Just stomachs full of hate
He forged a nation
Unified the herds
Through our privations
We were ever spurred
We faced starvation
Udders giving curds
In our desperation
Our pleas went unheard
So now we struggle day and night
To fill the bloody arbattoirs
Glowing signs adorn the sky
To praise his name beneath the stars
And with his hat pulled low
He came to reap what we had sown
With enraptured lows
We place the meat before his throne
Now for generations
He has ruled the west
Breeds the population
Serves us to his guests
His corporation
Feeds upon our flesh
No salvation
We never get to rest
John Arby was a slave-driving man
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3. |
Fatted Calves
04:20
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FATTED CALVES
In a grim Montana way out west
With a sky as big as doom
The little ones escape their wretched womb
They shuffle towards a setting sun in
Their hunger in their eyes
Craving frozen milk and salted fries
They sniff the air with practiced care
And drag their tired feet
Searching for a place that has the meat
The beacon sits upon the hill
Ten gallons cold and steel
They cross the gate to take their joyous meal
But inside their hope he died
No children haunt this place
No little toys for girls and boys
We scream it in your face
We are not for you
You fatted calves
No paper crowns no clowns
No laughs
No tiny straws for tiny mouths
No orphans welcome in our house
You fatted calves are banished to the south
Hunger drove the fatted calves
A bitter master’s lash
Curling towards a distant mountain pass
They’re sure that their salvation’s in
The valley held beneath
They’re dripping at the scent of roasting beef
But at the border, who awaits
A pair of burning steeds
The fatted calves are driven to their knees
Please oh please, you mighty steeds
Look down on us with favor
Lick our tears and taste the salty flavor
But the mountains mist carries the taint
Of their generation's choice
The pumping horses stamp their feet
And raise their fleshy voice
We are not for you
You fatted calves
No paper crowns no clowns
No laughs
No tiny straws for tiny mouths
No orphans welcome in our house
You fatted calves are banished to the south
The smoking pits gray their flesh
And the butchers hoist their knives
The fatted calves bow their heads
And offer up their lives
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4. |
Get in Line
04:20
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GET IN LINE
You work your way through the morning
The hunger deep in your bones
You bend your back to your labor
In a crowd of the drones
You see the smoke in the distance
The ashes thick on the ground
The butcher slicing the livestock
It’s piling up by the pound
You try to shake off the cravings
You slowly shuffle your feet
But you’re never escaping
You’re gonna bow to the meat
Your soul is lost in the land of the sauce
you got the grease stains grey on your skin
But we know what you’re craving give up and come on in
No use resisting, it’s all steamy and hot
I can see that you’re shaking, come and get what we got
Can’t fight any longer, it’ll be just fine
We’re inside and waiting
Abandon all hope and get in line
Now you’re getting beef sweats
Feel it dampen your clothes
Your heart is racing and pounding
The scent is filling your nose
You start to open your package
A sloppy pile of flesh
The hunger’s starting to ravage
It’s so juicy and fresh
Shove it all in your meathole
Feel it slide on your tongue
Your eyes roll in their sockets
Ecstasy has begun
Well it’s the march of the meat slaves
We’ve got you under control
We thinly slice your self respect
And pile it up on a roll
You had one already
Why not stop in for five
Take a seat all the meat you can eat
Is hot and ready inside
Come and gorge on the bounty
It’s an orgy of bliss
Genuflect at the altar
Abandon all hope and get in line
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5. |
The Worker's Lament
01:23
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(instrumental)
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6. |
Lord of the Beeflands
04:56
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LORD OF THE BEEFLANDS
I crushed our enemies
I shot their king in the back
Golden arches crumble
‘Neath the brim of my hat
Animals meant for the slaughter
Who will feed the beast?
Our customers still crave flavor
And guess who’s got the meats?
Lord of the beeflands
I’m always watching, you’re never alone
Lord of the beeflands
Prostrate yourself before the curly throne
I control the border
I pushed the colonel aside
Anything I see I take
To feed a family of five
What new creation can I conceive of?
No flesh is ever dismissed
Who but me can serve these masses,
And rule them with a meaty fist?
Lord of the beeflands
Avert your gazes, keep your heads low
Lord of the beeflands
The horsey elders have proclaimed it so
Lord of the beeflands
Inside this mountain, I pull every string
Lord of the beeflands
I keep on waiting but the bell never rings
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7. |
Meatcraft
03:49
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MEATCRAFT
The sun sits low in the crook of the mountain
A heart pumps blood for the vultures to feed
A weathered face looks up to the oldest gods he knows
And sets his chest unto the trees
The forest groans as he approaches
He comes to take the timber down
To conjure fire, smoke, and ash
Bring his quarry to the town
Meatcraft - the ancient ways, Meatcraft - the knife obeys
Tonight we swath the blood above our door
Meatcraft - the tools of flame, meatcraft - a butcher’s fame
Tonight we eat the spoils of our war
The sharpest blade waits for the master
The roasting pit a spark in his eye
Starts at sunrise, works through the night
The salted flesh he piles high
He browns his charge to sweet perfection
Licks his lips, stands to admire
Greasy fingers, blackened face
His meat will stand the test of time
Taste the blood and sweat brought about your meal
Savor flesh and bone - the moment of the kill
You will die my son but today is not the day
With steely eyes the hunter sets upon his prey
Meatcraft tonight we feast, meatcraft and slay the beast,
meatcraft a sharpened blade, meatcraft, an honored trade
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8. |
Smoke Mountain
13:13
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SMOKE MOUNTAIN
I was born alone
I toil day and night
But the ancients tell
I’ll ring the bell
And end this hell
So I’ll take up the fight
To break the chains of men
To free the cows again
Keepers of the beef
Keepers of the beef
Love the beef
Now I’ve seen the truth
This man they call a lord
Rapes the land
With his two hands
And red hot brands
So I take up the sword
To take the tyrant down
To break the curly crown
And I’m leaving here
On a journey ‘cross the land
To a distant mountaintop
Gonna prove this god’s a man
And I’m leaving home
Cause there’s nothing here for me
In the mountain’s heart
I’ll fulfill my destiny
And I’m leaving town (and he’s leaving town)
On a journey to the west
On that distant mountaintop
Put the stories to the test
As I climb that peak
Tired, broken, sore, and bruised
As I near the end
The winds of change are blowing through
Now I find myself
About to touch that hidden soul
He can feel the end
Knows his death lies in that toll
Gonna find that bell
Gonna bring him to his knees
Gonna strike that bell
Let the ringing set me free
In the smoke in the fire lies the meat of our desire
In the belly of the beast lives the savor that we seek
In the ash and the flame will you call us by our name
And our souls yours to keep, give us, lord our daily beef
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The Chop San Francisco, California
Music collective recording concept albums, musical podcasts, and gigging whenever
possible.
Born in Wilmington, weened in San Francisco. 100% concentrated energy dispensed via firehose.
Hear us chatter on about records every week on:
open.spotify.com/show/42EiJkNhsc2nEGx9jIvc3Y?si=1ce18ee311e64abd
... more
The Chop recommends:
Sick Bay
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A Star Trek: The Next Generation tribute band - what started as a writing prompt amongst friends blossomed into a full length (Sick Bay) with a planned follow up for 2023
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The Valley Spirit Never Dies
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The Delaware contingent is recording and gigging as psych rock band MEGA. Their debut "The Valley Spirit Never Dies" is a must listen
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This band rocks....all the things I love in stoner rock!
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This Calgary group makes goth-y post-punk attired in the brightly colorful arrangements of bleep-boop synthesized psychedelia.
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The new album from Brooklyn band Guiding Light features atmospheric covers of Leonard Cohen & Nirvana alongside stirring originals.
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