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lyrics

The only lining I can understand
is the silver top on my beer can.
Lost my hands in the basin sink,
I scrubbed off the dirty things I was thinking.
Down with the suds and the dirt I washed,
went my hands they were far too soft.
Never seen a laboring day in my life.
Never had to worry.

She was the girl with the pea buried at the bottom of the mattress stack.

The willows crooked like Grandma’s bones
and the cluster of lights in my old tone poems
Housewives in their tennis skirts
who slither so slick like the rain wet worms.

I come from a city that sucks its’ children’s bones dry.

Met this woman at the swallerin’ place.
Found her in my inebriated embrace.
And as I learned to smile again,
she bedded me down with the finest gin.

So, here I sit reviled and scarred
with a cigarette burning in the old bone yard.
Haunted by the wife I truly miss,
her arms my last real golden bliss.

There’s a spear in her side and she’s asking me for water.
I know she’s not here so I just try to ignore her.
I stare through the vapor and into the blanketing darkness of my room.
Please, let her sleep.

credits

from The Devil You Know, released November 20, 2015

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about

John Vournakis Atlanta, Georgia

Born in Connecticut, raised in Georgia, and edified in Michigan, John Vournakis writes songs in the American tradition that wander toward a ground he can call his own.

With lyrics and melodies equal parts nostalgic and haunted, Vournakis questions what it means to be a good man in America today.
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