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Viaduct

from Aleatorium by The Old Smugglers

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    This long awaited second printing of The Old Smugglers' first full length album, Aleatorium, is here! Recorded in the middle of the woods by the light of a gas burning lamp and heated by the fire of a cast iron stove, Aleatorium is a 17 track masterpiece of undeserved confidence and ill-conceived notions of grandeur. This album features fan favorites such as 'Salad Days', 'You've Got the Shimmys', and 'We All Walk the Plank Alone'.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Aleatorium via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days

      $10 USD or more 

     

lyrics

When I woke up that day I had pennies taped to my eyes
And bottles in both of my hands
I thought I should vow to never find my way back here again
That's a far as it got

So I throw down the coppers, my eyes as red as the wagon I had when I was a kid
I opened the shutters and stammered and stuttered
As I bade the day a very good morn

Got dressed had a cup and wandered out to the street
It had snowed the air was chill
The plows they were marching their blades were a dragging it sang me a song to carry me on

Well across the viaduct and past the psycho the children were laughing they hadn't a care
The traffic hushed by as it scared all the birds from the wires who watched as I talked aloud

So I stopped for a pen and I stopped for some paper
To jot down my thoughts lest I forget
My eyes glazed over my hands did shiver
As the words spilled out and buried me deep

When I got to my car it was right where I left it
The snow had caressed it to keep it warm
Got in and it started, it sputtered and trembled
And sang me a song as we headed back home

I am real, I am here, I am scared, I do behave
I am cold, I am sore, I am tired
I do believe, I do believe

credits

from Aleatorium, released November 13, 2015
Cap'n Thunder - lyrics, vocals, guitar, drums
Mr. December - guitar, bass, percussion
The Old Smugglers - music

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about

The Old Smugglers Saint Paul, Minnesota

Scotch and coffee, smelling like smoke and grandpa, truckload of soup cans falling from the sky, Americana shanty sounds of regret and revelation.

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