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Campfire Song for Marshmallows

from Plumb Drastic by Al Grantham

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lyrics

The sun is looking our way
The breeze is picking up steam
Your head is stapled to mine
And right now things are pretty alright

There’s nothing that I want
There’s nothing that I need
Nothing fits perfectly
And right now things are pretty alright
Right now things are pretty alright

Fires die
And the fire died

Now we’re middle-aged in a mall babe
And it’s not even a half-decent mall oh no
In fact it’s only redeemable quality is that the attached LCBO has affordable sized bottles of Knob Creek special select bourbon whiskey

When I met you I was up on stage
Oh yeah how I held your gaze
Yeah yeah guess you held mine
And right then things were pretty alright

Or how about that afternoon
I was practicing my porno tune
You gave a smile as you left
That made me feel like Myra Hess
Dirty dirty Myra Hess

Fires die
And the fire has now died

So this is a campfire song babe
And we are the marshmallows now hey hey
In the sense that it takes repeated penetrations of a various nature into our soft gooey centres before we’re willing to submerge ourselves into the flames of submissive obedience and personal sacrifice behind mutual veils of strained compatibility

Jack and Jill are throwing a do
Guess we’re going because we have to
You’ll talk to Jill
And I’ll talk to Jack
And then we’ll talk behind their backs
And then things will be pretty alright

Fires die

But we could set the neighborhood alight babe
A potluck past the cemetery gates hey hey
Btw I’ve now lost any semblance of ordered intellectual terrain with which to align a set of loose mental wheels with oh baby baby dig the premise of a life with little to no effective free will and touch me touch me if your internal faculties order you to tonight and let’s expedite procreation make a childish demonstration or we could just go buy some of those squares you like and eat them on the couch

credits

from Plumb Drastic, released October 31, 2018

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Al Grantham Toronto, Ontario

Drawing equally on the lyrical density of 60s folk, the irreverence of punk-rock and the experimental leanings of the alternative and anti movements, Al Grantham weaves a unique tapestry of music and words.

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