Peaceful Beasts in an Ocean of Weeds

by Blessed Feathers

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1.
02:16
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2.
03:56
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3.
03:04
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4.
03:56
lyrics
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5.
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about

Jacquelyn Beaupre' played everything.
Donivan Berube played everything else.
Thor Harris played vibes, clarinet, and other things.

Produced, recorded and mixed by Kevin McMahon.
Mastered by Joe Lambert in New York City.

credits

released 09 October 2012

tags

tags: folk acoustic indie rock Wisconsin

license

all rights reserved

feeds

feeds for this album, this artist
Track Name: Hey! All You Floridians
Jacquelyn Beaupre' played everything.
Donivan Berube played everything else.
Thor Harris played vibes.

Produced, recorded and mixed by Kevin McMahon.
Mastered by Joe Lambert in New York City.

Hey all you migrant workers
Flyin' down the freeway
In back of pickup trucks
No matter what the coppers have to say

I've never known you
But I respect you
For comin' all this way every other day
For only half the pay

You're walkin' on a tight rope
Cashin' in your orange groves
For subdivided homes
Neither one of us will ever own

We're starin' from the road
So glad we can't afford
These double decker cookie cutter
Houses made of particle board

Hey all you Floridians
Livin' for the weekend
Inside your diesel truck
No matter what the scientists they say

I've never known you
But I respect you
For lovin' how you live your life
Someday I hope I can say the same

You've got your mud holes
And camo colored clothes
You're playin' country music louder than
that speaker system holds

If I convert you
You'll lose your virtues
And every other chance we have at coexistin'
Like we used to do

Hey all of you tourists
Who come down here to throw a fit
There aint a single reason that you have
To act so childish

I've never known you
But I respect you
For spendin' all that money tryin' to find
Your family some happiness

You have your rental car
You've got your mini bar
You're drivin' slower than I ever thought
Was possible this far

To see what I see
To have what I have
When what you're lookin' for it isn't farther
Than your very own backyard

Hey all you rain clouds
You make the grass grow
And too my father proud
Of comin' early to his son at home

We have a TV
We've got a radio
But nothin's quite as special as he and I
Shootin' shit alone