Allegoria

by Melanie A. Davis

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $12 USD  or more

     

1.
03:54
2.
3.
04:02
4.
04:19
5.
6.
7.
02:12
8.
03:16
9.
03:14
10.
03:47
11.
03:19

credits

released January 24, 2020

license

Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.

tags

about

Melanie A. Davis Murray, Kentucky

Singer-songwriter from Murray, KY (and occasionally southern Indiana) - writing about people, places, and things of no particular or lots of importance, depending on how you wanna hear it

contact / help

Contact Melanie A. Davis

Streaming and
Download help

Report this album or account

Track Name: Gallowman
The gallowman is coming, I’ve seen him on cable
TV. Folks had started running, but there’s tripwire
in the streets. I got a man that says he don’t want
me - but that I’d die before he’d let me walk away free.
The world is ending, but we’re fine with just pretending
that the problem’s to be fixed another time.
Orwellian nightmares, gilded in gold - keep your
eyes on your paper, and do as your told.
Somewhere in the fuss, I’d gotten old.
Woke up in the evening scared to leave my front door.
Sorry way of being, an apathetic feeling that there’s
nothing we can do anymore. The lie we’ve been fed
of a dream reappears, abiding by the parameters of
fading frontiers.
The world is ending but we’re fine with just pretending
that the problem’s to be fixed another time.
Orwellian nightmares, gilded in gold - keep your
eyes on your paper, and do as your told.
Somewhere in the fuss, I’d gotten old.
The world is ending so I’m told. She keeps
descending into quicksand made of marigolds,
but I won’t see the empire fall, for I am now too old
to pave a way, to care at all,
the corn’s still growing but the farm is sold.
Track Name: Mesopotamian Blues
I got a lot going on in my head like,
would I really be better off dead?
Or was that just something cool I said?
Is the depressing isolation all a part
of the cause? Just a backlit distraction from the lion’s
claws? More preventative measures
for making sure our brains don’t thaw?
And you’re just as scared as me, you say, and
all we can do is hope and pray, but I called God -
he had moved away. Paper dolls thrown in the
trash, you wanna leave? So make it fast.
Blowout the last cigarette ash.
I got a lot going on in my brain, wondering
if this is what it’s like to go insane. So the
Midwest’s not the best for working on
emotional range. Are we doomed as a species
to just wander lost? Had some finer greater
purpose, but we just forgot? Time to clear
your head darlin’, your favorite TV show is on.
Masses of people torn apart,
convinced they work in affairs of the heart
turning chemical deficits into art.
But that’s not what you meant, you said,
as you lay down in your little bed,
but you think to yourself,
maybe this is for the best?
Track Name: Sisters
My sisters and mothers from the times before
the stars shadowed my eyes call back to me
through highways of nerves that plug into
the back of my mind. I find it’s getting worse with the
times, don’t you? Just blind enough to blame it on a
shadow in the dark or two? They’ll string us up
to pillars, muscle statuettes. Medusas and
Madonnas, cat-eyed darkness feared by men.
The first sin,
us and them,
the debt of Eden’s crime only just began.
Covered up her mouth
with a filthy, shaking hand.
So they douse our feet in pious flames
that writhe and burn and wrap around the name
of these Magdalenic monsters to be tamed.
They burned them up and still, they wanted more.
No godly love raised marks upon the door
of any actor who forgot what her part was for.
And I know it’s probably met with greater ease
if I could simply ignore our tattered tapestry,
spraypainted over, her golden edges torn.
No more would the giver of life cede to those who
take. Imploring their importance to an audience
of ears that ache. I’ve found the story sweeter said
by those who get to taste the blood-soaked glory.
Rich, predatory, stealing space. Till our time I fight,
taking back my whole life - not one night.
Back without a smile, just for my own spite
So they douse our feet in pious flames
that writhe and burn and wrap around the name
of these Magdalenic monsters to be tamed.
A million dead and still, they come for more.
They don’t crave our flesh, no, they just crave the war
on any actor who forgot what her part was for.
Track Name: Important
There once was a man all alone in his own little
world, sat upon his throne of diamonds and pearls
picked up when the ocean bed was dried up and left
for dead, little, dusty swirls. I’m very important, have you noticed? Gonna have to import some focus on me
cause I cannot survive without the wandering eye of general publicity.
On my planet of one, am I having fun yet? Didn’t
know what to do but it looked so shiny and new so I placed my bets, my bets on you. I’m the greatest,
I’m the best, I would know cause I washed out
all the rest. It only goes to show how far a loan can go. And aren’t you proud of me, Ma? I got up here and I killed ‘em all. But the money doesn’t go down as smooth in my throat but at least,
but at least, but at least, but at least I’m important.
The little man sits alone on his chair all day
wondering through the haze how it got that way
Counting the stars each night, hoping that he just might buy one or two if the price is right. I’m very important, have I told you? Biggest cock
of the walk, biggest heart, too. Although the lack
of competition might seem like a submission,
even I can beat all this decomposition
On my planet of one, am I having fun yet? Didn’t know what to do but it looked so shiny and
new. so I placed my bets, my bets, on you. I’m the
greatest, I’m the best, I would know cause I washed
out all the rest. It only goes to show how far a loan can go. And aren’t you proud of me, Ma?
I got up here and I killed ‘em all, but the money doesn’t taste as good now deep in my throat.
But at least, but at least, but at least, but at least
I’m important.
Track Name: I Don't Really Care, Do You?
Bring me your mothers and daughters, your
sisters and your sons. Your broken and
disheartened or the ones we can outrun. I don’t
really care, do you? Seems too plebeian to do
when every single move I make is for the sake
of you-know-who. My pockets are heavy, my heart
is gone. Ain’t no Jesus to tell me I’m wrong.
Just a couple of roadblocks that this old tank
can take. Soundproof the glass to keep it all in,
and blame our family for modern sin.
I turn the TV off cause I know all of it is fake,
I see what I wanna see, and that’s more than
enough for me.
Bring me the sick and the damned, the worthless
and/or the poor. I’m a Slovenian-American dream,
a queen’s crown on the head of a whore. But I don’t
really care, do you? And after all that you’ve been
through, I’d say it’s in your right to put up a fight
for the good red, white, and blue. My Spade bag won’t
fit my AR-12. I saw the devil walk out of hell and
into the arms of a country eager to please the rich
and the beautiful, stupid and vague - pretending not
to care is the latest craze, so we must be careful
about what we pretend to be. Oh, no, you could never
be me - hell, I don’t know if I’d even wanna be me.
Bring me the bloodlines of the white knights and
the crusades, oh, I bet good ol’ Jesus could turn his
cheek to a righteously pointed blade. I don’t really
care though, do you? I’ll leave the mote in your eye
too, so maybe that way neither one of us will know
what the fuck the other’s up to. Standing inside a
pool of blood, I opened the gate, I didn’t start the flood.
People would pay a fine price for the red on your soul.
Fireworks all turned into duds, ninety degree dives
down into the mud that’s scattered with six foot by
six foot holes. If there’s a god, just maybe the sea
could melt up enough to swallow you and me.
Track Name: November Eighth
Did you see what they said? The news is spewing fire
and integrity is dead. We are alone in the dark, too
afraid to depart from the comfort of our heads.
Don’t tell me you’re afraid. Without the distance there
I cannot accurately gauge my empathy towards you
or my desire to care. It’s nothing against you,
but I got my own to bear.
God bless America today, I guess we were just
hopeless either way. I just wanted something I
could maybe believe in, but what do I know? I’m
only a heathen. A hedonistic witness to an
unforgiving sickness we love.
So I sacrifice my hands to those better suited to
know the things I can’t. The camera’s on, the
lights are red. Only static in my head,
but damn, don’t I feel like a new man. Could
you listen to me better? Could you somehow
just forget her? If I took my words and paint
them red, just like the ones that Jesus said,
would you hear me better?
God bless America today, I guess we were just
fucked up either way. I just wanted something I
could maybe believe in, but what do I know?
I’m only a heathen.
A hedonistic witness
to an unforgiving sickness we love.
Track Name: Sophie
Such a fine and sunny day, and I must go.
Doesn’t matter anyway, this I now know. The blue
skies are free to take me cause I think I prefer to
be free. The government, she’s scaring me, and I
must leave. She got too big for the shoes she
picked and forgot the powers that be. Another
prize of man’s design that will lead
to his demise every time.
Such a fine and sunny day, and I must be gone.
Turning my back on a life that’s gray,
yes, it’s time for me to move on.
Remember me as they’d have me be:
another fruit to
add to their hanging tree.
Track Name: Mojo
Songbird to the lost and wild, father to a wandering
child. Propagandic savior of the human race and
proprietor of our disgrace. Tell us Simon, where
have you been? Does the dust taste better washed
down with gin? Tell us Simon, where have you been?
My legs are getting heavy holding all this sin.
You took your journey to the bottom of a pot of gold.
The world keeps on turning, but you don’t know
how you got so old. Not even the city of lights
could keep away the dark, cold nights.
Save yourself for somewhere later down the road.
Tell us Simon, where have you been?
Does the dust taste better washed down with gin?
Tell us Simon, where have you been?
My legs are getting heavy holding all this in.
Take your shoulders, hardened skin.
Your love transforms you where the blades might’ve
been. Just another year older, ‘nother year colder,
close your eyes and ease your mind.
What’s the last thing you told her, poetic soldier?
No more a slave to terrestrial ties.
Track Name: Moonbath
I’m bathing my skin within the moonbeams
crawling down the hill. The call of dusk begins to
rise up, sweet and shrill. How I long to be a part of
me I haven’t met yet - a thrown out scene missing
its regret.
I turned my wheel fifty times now wondering just
how a bend in the road could last for miles.
Turning
back and shaking hands with myself, sneaking in
reruns as I am allowed. How I long to be a part
of me
I haven’t tried yet, a calmer sea locking
hands with a sunset. So I find you in the
outline of shadows before me, creating your
frame in a carefully planned out memory,
tracing the veins of the night for a sound of
your name, watching the stars wake up and
blink slow and plain.
Yes, I long to be a part of me you haven’t
seen yet, a clearer mind more apt to forget
a wrong placement, a wrinkle of cloth -
till I can’t recall what it is I wanted to say
I forgot or what I was not.
Track Name: Memory
The closest thing to heaven or hell is
the feeling I get when you tell of me.
The roots of the willow trees nudge me softly
out of my sleep so I can look upon your
memory and weep for you, with you, for me.
If you could, I’d like a fall one
when the red sun’s just a hint of warm.
When the homespun joys watered down
the poison at our back doors. If at all you
choose to keep anything, let it be the way
I speak to you. Don’t let my voice get weak,
unable to greet your conscience once more.
The closest thing to heaven or hell is
the feeling I get when you tell of me.
The roots of the willow trees nudge me softly
out of my sleep so I can look upon your
memory and weep for you, with you, for me.
I don’t need no idols, and I do well
without beads. I find it feels better to
lie between the heather and weeds.
My soul would climb up a dandelion puff
and catch the wind somewhere -
Leave the granite alone, don’t you look
for my bones, they’re not there.
Because the closest thing to heaven or hell
is the feeling I get when you tell of me.
The roots of the willow trees nudge me softly
out of my sleep so I can look upon your
memory and weep.
Track Name: Lazarus
Watch me as I arise out of the flames
before your very eyes!
Kick dust off of my feet as I turn to meet
the miracle that’s me.
Life imitates art, but art imitates death,
and here I am in the middle.
A phoenix rising over the ash,
a knobby-kneed foal of a pistol.
And the murmur never bothered me, in fact,
I liked it better that way.
And they’ll give you gold up to your teeth
if you can push their own dark away.
So watch me as I arise out of the flames
before your very eyes!
Kick the dust off of my feet as I turn to meet
the miracle that’s me.
You know I’ve done this all before, another
time or two or more. The main event’s on
deck, get your ticket at the door,
what’re you waiting for?
It’s just the theatre of it all - not as impressive
if you stay. See, every man has his call, and I
think mine’s to beat my grave, oh yes, I do.
And well, the murmur never bothered me, in fact,
I liked it better that way.
And they’ll give you golf up to your teeth
if you can push their own dark away.
So watch me as I arise out of the flames
before your very eyes.
Kick the dust off of my feet as I turn to meet
the miracle that’s me.
You know I’ve done this all before,
another time and I won’t care.
I just let down my red hair and I
eat
the
men
like
air.

If you like Melanie A. Davis, you may also like: