Live in Studio

by Don Ryan

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Live in Studio at the Meatlocker in Montclair, NJ.

credits

released 17 July 2013
Don Ryan & The Blank Canvas Movement

Don Ryan - Vocals, Guitar
Paul Vanderwal - Cello
Rich Haddad - Bass
Joe Vernazza - Drums

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about

Don Ryan New York, New York

Don Ryan is a singer/songwriter whose compositions are delectable cocktails of ageless beauty and gritty discord — a hypnotizing blend of classic Americana and gypsy jazz with a more modern, psychedelic-folk sound. This is a brand new spin on old music. ... more

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Track Name: Top of the World
Now they paint the town in smoke,
The calling of our bluff
Will of stone -- the will that broke,
Now an industry of dust

Boneyard cries, the sleeping eyes,
Now we look so tired
Gather, flies. See big smoke rise,
Melting men of iron.

(Chorus)
The top of the world's on fire
The top of the world we knew
Gutting the old empire,
A fall for the few

The top of the world's on fire
Worm out the womb
And roll off the mire,
A call into a new

Rats, we ran. We, ark of ants.
In tear-flooded streets we pray
Karma noose, hanging loose
And this is just the first day

(Chorus)
The top of the world's on fire
The top of the world we knew
Gutting the old empire,
A fall for the few

The top of the world's on fire
Worm out the womb
And roll off the mire,
A call into a new
Track Name: Black Eyes & White Lies
Search went on for days
For a place for a night to die.
Finally it came to be
As the seas waved us goodbye.

Faked all our debts,
Faked death and woke up dreaming.
But we know that on the breeze we blow
Are the hands of their dealing.

Wither with her.
The over-known have overflown,
They're all so high and useless now
And so their blood is felt by stone.

Chorus
Oh how obscene,
This nostalgia machine ain't got the time
For us now,
Though somehow we all realized
That some more black eyes and white lies
Are the gifts that they bring,
Who stole our brightest idea
And made it dim

Not that man yet,
Too young to regret it now.
Dominoes are on a way,
They've found them
Fall with every step out

Chorus
Oh how obscene,
This nostalgia machine ain't got the time
For us now,
Though somehow we all realized
That some more black eyes and white lies
Are the gifts that they bring,
Who stole our brightest idea
And made it dim
Track Name: A Mechanical Profundity
An angel came down
To tell me of self-doubt,
She was filled with insects' poison
Till her innards fell out

Kill the slaves that ran away
And let the rats free now,
The fleeting man with the sheet in hand
Calls the master out

Chorus
The consequence you can't conceive
For everything that you believe
Haste the day,
Mother's away,
Mechanical profundities

So holy roll and stone the crow
And everything between,
Rest your head upon my bed,
The mattress so unclean

Chorus
The consequence you can't conceive
For everything that you believe
Haste the day,
Mother's away,
Mechanical profundities

The artists heart is in your cart,
A natural tendency
To kill the man with the brush in hand
And consume him for a fee

His last collage, such a mirage,
Before he set himself free,
So take down his heart and tear it apart
Or just let him be.
Track Name: The Murder Industry
The butchers, they come in zeros and ones
Behind digital smiles, under store-bought sun
Themselves the youth have fooled it seems,
This generation of words on a screen

Chorus
So, here's to a murder industry
Some bridges ain't worth the kerosene

The professional smiles of whores and liars
Are raking them in and breaking them buyers
I'm dropping the dime 'cause I know what I've seen,
So stick another quarter in the funeral machine

Chorus
And here's to a murder industry
Some bridges ain't worth the kerosene

Frozen, paralyzed in time
Sing a lullaby for the parts that died
Wake me when they're ready to buy

Obscene mob scene,
Reckoning day,
Cry me a river and wash us away.
Throw in the towel
'Cause you know what I mean,
Well, it ain't worth the fight,
No, it ain't worth the scene

Chorus
So, here's to the murder industry
Some bridges ain't worth the kerosene