Get all 29 Walter Ehresman releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of That's How A Fable Starts (single), Cassandra, Cursed, My Back Pages, Revisited (With No Blonde), Songs From the Crux, Global Search Party, South of the Wall, The Best of.....Songs of Possibilities, The Best of..........the Weird Ones, and 21 more.
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And If You’ll Believe THAT………
(© 2021 Walter Ehresman)
You say you’ve got the skinny beaming straight down from The Q—
the Left, they love the long pig, and they hunt your children, too;
And CEOs love workers, and they’ll bring those jobs back home,
and never build a factory in YOUR residential zone.
(and when your guys get in)
They’ll let you wear your white robes in the city hall in town,
and they’ll root out all the brown ones, and they’ll keep the black ones down;
Lock up those Jewish bankers, give free tinfoil for your hat;
Drop napalm on Antifa, make a bonfire of all masks.
And if you’ll believe THAT, I’ve got a planet just for you—
the air tastes so sweet, and the waters crystal blue;
The people line the streets and cry “So glad that you are here!”;
And they’ve never heard of hatred and they’ve got no time for fear;
And they’re looking for a leader who will know just what to do,
and they’re singing songs about you, and made spiffy posters, too.
And every vote that’s cast will tally for the GOP;
Opinions matter equally (“for all who look like me”);
They’ll let police break kneecaps when they see a different face;
Blast Lincoln off the mountain—put The Donald in his place.
And if you’ll believe THAT, I’ve got a planet just for you—
the air tastes so sweet, and the waters crystal blue;
The people line the streets and cry “So glad that you are here!”;
And they’ve never heard of hatred and they’ve got no time for fear;
And they’ll call you “Liberator,” spread rose petals at your feet;
Plump cushions for your backside, and then serve the scotch up neat.
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20,000 Lies (and counting)
(© 2020 Walter Ehresman)
The Red Hat Squad, they lap it up like kittens
(well, if kittens could lift up AR-15s);
And the ziggurat of falsehoods climbing higher
blocks the sunlight that could grow our better dreams;
And the tensile strength of tortured self-delusion
is being tested right before our weary eyes;
And that bloody strain that’s always been beneath us
is being watered by the bile they can’t disguise (of)
20,000 lies—we keep the meter runnin’;
Just throw ‘em high—and see which ones will fly;
So dead inside—but keep the black hole fillin’
--‘til there’s nothing that remains
--in a land that feels no shame
Crushed beneath the weight of 20,000 lies.
We used to ask ourselves how far that they might take it,
but now we know that there’s no end that we can see;
With so much money on the table for the takin’,
they will not take the risk of such uncertainty;
And so we shine a light into that looming darkness—
protect the right of every voice now to be heard;
But we need a little more to crack this fiction—
so if you’ll join us, we can claim a truth deferred;
And if you’ll join us, we can stop the meter spinning;
And if you’ll join us, we can climb out from the ties (of)
20,000 lies
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What Are You Willing To Do?
(© 2020 Walter Ehresman)
We’ve never seen mirrors like this—
all shown in the bright light of day;
Such rot in the roots of our tree
drops the canopy down in decay;
And good people won’t break from the herd
as the thugs wrap their guns in the flag,
as the nobles put match to the pyre,
as the “salt of the earth” gets sandbagged.
What are you willing to do?
For what will you turn off the screen?
At what point will you care what is true?
And for what will you deign to be seen?
And when will you open the door
and join righteous feet on the street?
When will you tell them “no more,”
and stop better angels’ retreat?
Silence enables, it’s true—
your friendship tells them it’s ok;
With their hate and their guns in the night—
then to dine in your home the next day;
And the stares that you’ll get when you stand,
and the daggers they’ll look when you say
that hypocrisy poisons our land—
it’s our children’s future you betray.
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Your Right To Kill Me? (Social Contract Sinkin’)
(© 2020 Walter Ehresman)
You think you got the right to kill me (you red-hat bastards);
Just to satisfy your latest whim (oh no);
Overcompensation with your gun so long;
“Ooo, such a bad man with no mask on!.......
All the ladies run to him.”
You think you got the right to kill me (you red-hat bastards);
And so you march to the capitol (oh no);
You froth and rage, and you cough and spray
every little notion that you had today;
A vicious child will shake the rattle
Don’t you live in our society?
With some for you and some for me?
But if you are just our parasite (oh no)
then we must cut your from our sight.
You think you got the right to kill me;
‘Cause you never learned how to live, now (oh, no);
Craven politicians throw more meat to the base;
Bloody-eyed stare as you blow smoke in my face;
Got no empathy to give, now.
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5. |
Sanuk Interlude
02:26
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Sanuk Interlude
(©2021 Walter Ehresman)
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6. |
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Behold the American Yahoo
(pondering Trumpian thugs sacking the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021)
(© 2021 Walter Ehresman)
Behold the American Yahoo:
--Violent, childish and small, but oh so many of them;
--Dressing up in soldier costumes, storming over halfhearted Capitol Police (no heavy equipment out today, man, since there’s no black folks in the crowd);
--proudly wearing willful ignorance on their sleeves, red hats and t-shirt slogans……”I’m right because…….Fuck you!!!”.
Behold the American Yahoo.
Behold the American Yahoo:
--a toddler in camo, holding its breath until its trigger finger turns blue;
--the ultimate hyperbole……..the sacred word” freedom” reduced to a mere whim;
--“No social contract for me, by God!………I aspire to nothing more than what that orange-headed gentleman over there has—the ability to do anything at any time to anybody with no consequences……That’s what I want!.......And when I get there, that bastard who lives next door will surely be sorry, I mean to tell ya……………....Payback time.”
Behold the American Yahoo.
Behold the American Yahoo:
--Cognitive dissonance stretches that rubber band tighter…….tighter!........TIGHTER!!!...........more than you could ever believe…………’til people spit in the eye of objective reality to their literal dying breath……”Fuck you, doctor…..I ain’t dyin’ of COVID!....(gasp)….....It don’t exist!!....... (choke)……(wheeze)……. [flatline]”;
--Kissing the whip that comes from the right (always from the right)…….”Lash me again, master, and tell me how it’s that other fella that’s actually doin’ it”;
--So mentally compromised they can’t even fight for their own self-interest……Much less allow empathy to make the list.
Behold the American Yahoo.
Behold the American Yahoo:
--finally breaking out the gun horde for reals, people……stroking it, rubbing it, whispering to it……”Gonna get that power back, baby…….gonna get it..…….Get it”…..even though you’ve been hunkered down in the Bootheel, man, your whole damn life, jacking meth and not so much, you know……workin’…….per se;
--Chuckle-headed nights on the town…….Headers on your ’94 third-hand Honda wakin’ the neighbors, crankin’ the Kid Rock and poundin’ Coors Light, and howling the cry of the Whoo People…….”Whooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!”;
--Confederate flag bumper stickers, baby, because……….well, you don’t know exactly why “because,” but “it sure do trigger them Libs don’ it!?!.......Whoooooooooooooooooooo!!!.”
Behold the American Yahoo.
And so when finally, inevitably, you and your friends dig out all the quarters from the couch and car seats and pile into that rust-bucket Honda to limp on over to Washington DC for that fateful January 6th, you see your tribe……a sea of chuckleheads, meatheads, meth-heads, skinheads and militia cos-play bearded fuckwits …..even a Libertarian pseudo-intellectual over there, talking in circles and making up statistics with a petulant condescension……….
So many more now at the end than were here for the inauguration……could it have been just four years ago? …….(seems like a lifetime)…….The stench of testosterone poisoning hanging like a sewer fog over the White House lawn…..so thick you can taste it…….It tastes like a coiled spring…….like a zoo in a heat wave……..like a lynch mob………like a cross soaked in kerosene………like whiskey breath breathing heavy over a beaten woman……..But most of all, it tastes like desperation. You don’t really know what you want, do you?.........You just know it’s got to be SOMETHING……something different than what you got now……something where you don’t feel so small…….something where you’re treated with the automatic respect that a white man should get, right?......no need to earn it…….no need to share anything……no need to work or listen to a damn boss or to anybody about anything at all, right?..........You just say what you want and someone does it for you…….hell, they FIGHT for the chance to do it for ya!.......That’s what HE has……”That Trump doesn’t give a shit what ANYBODY thinks……he just wants things, and then they happen……An’ if someone pisses him off, well then, he just buries ‘em…….That’s power…..That’s the perfect life…….that’s the life I want…..Hell, that’s the life I DESERVE……..And I’m gonna get it, boy……and it starts today. We’re marching now, we’re climbing up the walls, we’re hanging off the balconies, hell, we’re sittin’ in Pelosi’s fuckin’ chair and leavin’ her dirty notes tellin’ her what we’re gonna do to her next time…..and I can feel it……something new comin’……”
“I got my gun. And I’m ready. Just tell me where to point it, Mr. President.”
Behold the American Yahoo. Because he is most assuredly beholding you.
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7. |
Pinhole of Light
08:59
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Pinhole of Light
(© 2020 Walter Ehresman)
My mind whirls in endless contingencies
--I think I know why it does;
We all deal with our childhood vagaries
--find ways to cope beyond the cause.
But in between charts and the diagrams
--demanding all my precious time;
Sense to notice when a light breaks in
--Sense to let that moment shine.
Not looking for Zen repositioning
--with neurons all wired anew;
And can’t live with blinder conditioning
--my heart only beats for what’s true.
But there has to be time to see forests
--while studying bark of the tree;
And there has to be time to hear promise
--of letting our hope out to feed.
That pinhole of light deserves attention;
Just a pinhole of light deserves my time;
Got to program my sight to scan my horizons
--tune perspective tonight.
It may not change our projection of our arc in the fullness of time;
But our happiness rests in these moments stolen from ominous signs.
Just yesterday, I heard conditional news
--it was good, for as far as it goes;
And I had to look up from contextual views
--to appreciate when bad men go;
So sad at the lack of capacity
--for change in the name of us all;
But at least I could widen acuity
--spot that thin shaft of light when it falls.
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8. |
Leonard's 3 Angels
05:19
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Leonard’s Three Angels
(© 2020 Walter Ehresman)
Well, I’ve snarled at the hand; broke up the band;
And loved to the end; shot straight with a friend;
Climbed down from my chair, still cried out for what’s fair;
Blew through your good will, played the fool even still;
Saw all of this pass through reverse looking glass;
Vowed better to do, as the sand runs on through.
Well, I’ve put two steps out there, felt three that slid back;
I’ve thought of the long game, but then lost the track;
Jumped out of my skin, then grasped it again;
Wept seas for the past; froze up in the natural
ways of the world, that I see from outside,
but then stood by your side—felt your fingers uncurl.
But now at the end
(though I still won’t pretend)
I’ve a notion, it seems
(though I still don’t believe)
Leonard’s angels—won’t you please sing me home.
Mountainous waves of intention now crash on the shore;
Reading new tidelines to see if there’s anything more.
Well, I’ve looked into eyes and thought I could see;
Gone all-in again, crawled away bitterly;
Wondered could I go on……stuck around for the song;
Broke open the vein for to sing out the pain, and then
stood up again, with some help from my friends;
Tried to learn from it all, ‘til the final recall.
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9. |
Moonfall On the Dunes
04:08
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Moonfall On the Dunes
(© 2020 lyrics—Walter Ehresman; music--Mike Duncan/Walter Ehresman)
At the site, I saw you walking in that certain way you do;
Your green eyes flush with purpose as you called the day’s work through;
The workers packed their camels, with a quicker step to home;
But me, I’m going nowhere, in the Valley of the Throne.
On this night, smattering of relics in the air;
Brush the years away in academic rooms.
We talked, but never found that easy pattern that we knew;
We crept through silent passageways—deciphered ancient views;
We walked out on the desert—saw the moonfall on the dunes;
Remembering distant pleasures, humming bits of wistful tunes;
Your hand, it brushed my shoulder—but I took no comfort there;
Jackals chased the moonbeams as they spilled across your hair.
In New York, your eyes, they sparkled just for me;
We danced alone ‘cross all those crowded rooms;
--but now I shuffle through these tombs, and wonder why
I can’t forget the moonfall on the dunes.
--One glance
--Put paid to chance
--An end that caught me unaware.
Now we work alone together, beneath the soulless sun;
That magic feeling over—our special union done;
My heart yearns for the city—lose myself in careless times;
A different moon to rise at night, no pyramids to climb.
Yes, my heart yearns for the city—lose myself in careless times;
But I can’t forget the moonfall on the dunes;
I can’t forget the moonfall on the dunes.
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Walter Ehresman San Miguel De Allende, Mexico
Called "the quintessential Austin DIY artist" by famed local disc jockey Charlie Martin , Walter Ehresman was an eccentric presence in the Austin music scene from the '80s until his 2015 move to Mexico. A prolific songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and recording artist...and a restless musical spirit, always looking for something new, expressed with fearlessly honest, socially-conscious lyrics. ... more
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