Fisticuffs and Other Stuff

by Knuckleberry Finn

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about

An incredible amount of kudos are owed to Ananth Batni, who put up with so much in the process of recording this. He does amazing work, go throw money at him/record in his studio: www.facebook.com/prettygoodstudios

Hi, we’re Knuckleberry Finn:

Abram Shaw – drums, didgeridoo, cello, backing vocals
Ben Shaw – vocals, guitars, keyboard, snaps
Devin Taylor – bass, banjo, backing vocals, snaps

Thanks also to all of our Jam Guestz ™:
Andrew Wink – lead guitar on tracks 1 and 7
Charles Scheider – e-bow on tracks 3, 8, and 9
Declan Enright – additional vocals on tracks 2 and 8, ending guitar solo on track 8
Ananth Batni – veena on track 8

And, of course, where would we be without:
Ananth, Charles, and Declan putting up with us in the studio every day; Max Poole, Ashe, and everyone affiliated with the Rock Action shows, without whom none of this would be possible; our parents, without whom none of this would be possible; Nat Wolfe; Ron Akins; Aaron Goldstein and Poprocks and Coke; Katie and Carl Peachey; and Asher Meerovich and everyone down at WMUC.

The Room and all its dialogue is owned by Tommy Wiseau.

credits

released October 18, 2014

Recorded, mixed, and mastered by Ananth Batni.

Lyrics on tracks 1, 3, 4, 6, and 9 - Ben Shaw
Lyrics on tracks 2, 5, 7, and 8 - Devin Taylor

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about

Knuckleberry Finn Maryland

Knuckleberry Finn (formerly and unfortunately known as The Catdoors) are an alternative power trio from the Washington DC Metropolitan Area. The band consists of Ben Shaw, Abram Shaw, and Devin Taylor.

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Track Name: I Saw Goody Proctor With The Devil
Saw her with the devil
A whispered word’s all it takes
A single wink can strike a spark
That lights the pyre or the stake

I’ve always known there’s something wrong with her
And now she can’t deny it
A sinner’s life
That’s why she never sleeps at night
Not like the pure of heart like you and I

Saw her with the devil
Just look at the soot on her dress
An innocent can walk through fire
Her scorched palms all but confessed

Now all of us are lily-white, as pure as snow
So throw all the stones you like
A sinner’s life
That’s why she never sleeps at night
Not like the pure of heart like you and I

I’ve always known there’s something wrong with her
And now she can’t deny it
A sinner’s life
That’s why they never sleep at night
Not like the pure of heart like you and I
Track Name: Psalm of Pepco
Look on ye hungry and rejoice:
A rubber smorgasbord w/ flat tire reduction sauce.
Look on ye hungry and rejoice:
Roast grease monkey stuffed with bell peppers.
Look on ye hungry and rejoice:
Multiplied multitude of loaves and fishes.
Look on ye hungry and rejoice:
Krishna Khrist, our lord and savior.

Chomping chewing chewing chewing
Chomping chewing chewing chomping
Chomping chomping chomping chewing
Gumming, swallow, wallow!

Gumming, chewing, chewing, chewing
Gumming, chewing, chewing, gumming
Gumming, gumming, gumming, chewing,
Chewing, swallow, yum

Look on ye weary and rejoice:
Mattresses filled with mashed potaters.
Look on ye weary and rejoice:
Platinum cots and cashmere sleeping bags.
Look on ye weary and rejoice:
A cuddle puddle of hapless ocelots.
Look on ye weary and rejoice:
A Temper-Pedic Swedish bosom.

Resting, sleeping, sleeping, sleeping,
Resting, sleeping, sleeping, resting,
Resting, resting, resting, sleeping,
Napping, snoring, whoah!

Napping, sleeping, sleeping, sleeping,
Napping , sleeping, sleeping, napping,
Napping, napping, napping, sleeping.
Sleeping, snoring, napkin

Look on ye joyful and despair:
The fruits of labor rotting away.
Look on ye joyful and despair:
A rising tide of disposable laundry detergent.
Look on ye joyful and despair:
More paternity suits than you can shake a gavel at.
Look on ye joyful and despair:
The people who walk in darkness are serviced by Pepco.
Track Name: No Such Thing As Stars
Counting the streetlamps, surrogate stars
Shatter of glass, supernova right above my head
Rivers of white and red, flowing down the mountainside
Glowing with the flashing lights of mercury and lead

I can’t shake it
The afterimage in my eyes
Brighter than the bruised and sullen sky
I can’t shake it
Paint over the clouds with tar
In a world made of light, there’s no such thing as stars

Constellations at the tops of skyscrapers
The advertisements, the new Orion, our new heroes
Prometheus and Edison brought down the light
Beat back the darkness, a neon Bethlehem

I can’t shake it
The afterimage in my eyes
Brighter than the bruised and sullen sky
I can’t shake it
Paint over the clouds with tar
In a world made of light, there’s no such thing as stars

The sun never sets on the floodlighted Earth
Dim as fireflies against the light of man
Eternal light, eternal life
All the world’s an Arctic day
The Northern lights will never go away

I can’t shake it
The afterimage in my eyes
Brighter than the bruised and sullen sky
I can’t shake it
Paint over the clouds with tar
In a world made of light, there’s no such thing as stars
Track Name: Superego
Man of steel, heart of stone
Gone and left us all alone
Hung up his halo without a doubt
He’s never been the same
Since he found that Lois Lane
Now she’s all he thinks about

He would tear this city down
Just to wrap his arms around her
And catch her when she falls
There’s no one left to save us
When the beasts come roaring in
No one left at all

Everyone around you thinks you don’t deserve to
What’s wrong is right, what’s black is white
In your superego

Dark man with face unknown
Wants revenge on all below him
He growls and blusters down the alleyways
No guardian Heaven-sent
Like Achilles in his tent
He broods within his cave for days

No thought of charity
All pride and vanity
He lives for vengeance without noise
There’s no one left to save us
When he’s got his blinders on
We’re doomed by all his pretty toys

Everyone around you thinks you don’t deserve to
What’s wrong is right, what’s black is white
In your superego

On that silver screen
All those popcorn dreams
Of being Atlas hoisting a world in flight
The cameras pan with you
No matter what you do
No matter how much you destroy
The salt taste of a punch in the face
That fantasy of might makes right!

Everyone around you thinks you don’t deserve to
What’s wrong is right, what’s black is white
In your superego
I hate your superego
Track Name: Wiretapped Grapevine
Fun paranoia fact #1: Every white van has a camera inside.
Fun paranoia fact #2: The moon landing was faked on a set of Swiss cheese.
Fun paranoia fact #3: Your yogurt bacteria's with the CIA.
Fun paranoia fact #4: I'm all out of fun paranoia facts.
It’s a rainy, stormy, cloudy dreary ETC
kinda day, and I’m feeling a bit lonely
so I head over to my nearest phone and dial zero
“Hello operator, so we meet again. Can you get me the voices in my head.
I’m sorry, they aren’t available right now.”

“I have a confession to make,” she says.
“I’m really the ghost of communication’s past.”
“Why do you haunt this earth a lowly spectre?
How did you meet your demise?”

Heard it through the wiretapped grapevine
Old paranoia’s on the loose again

“Well, they’ve invented this thing called a search engine,
this thing called a dialpad, so I’m kind of out of a job.”
“Tough break.” “You can say that again.” “Tough break”.
“Alas, I have gone the way of the telegraph.”

“Everything is in morose code, but none takes the time
to decode or to care.” “There are so many people I want to talk to,
I want you to connect me with them, I want you to help me connect with them,
you can do that, that’s your job right? RIGHT?

Heard it through the wiretapped grapevine
Old paranoia’s on the loose again

“Look, I don’t want things to get freaky or steamy.
I know this isn’t the red-light district,
you're a dignified and moral woman
and what would ol’ Alex Bell think?

“You’re not a payphone, I know you’re non-profit
yadablahblahblah, but such you’ve been such a good sport,
I’ll tip ya 75 cents, ‘cause that’s my ten cents worth.
Consider it a stipend. Consider it a pension.”

“Oh thank you sir, thank you thank you sir! Ever so much thank you thank you sir.
I now have enough money to pay the discount Charon
to paddle me off to the afterlife. For your philanthropic troubles, I shall now reveal to you all the secrets of the universe.”

Heard it through the wiretapped grapevine
Old paranoia’s on the loose again

And this omniscient voice, this beautiful omniscient voice, this tell-all, hear-all, say-all
confirms all my innermost fears. That 9/11, Hurricane Sandy, the Great Boston Molasses Tragedy, The Triangle Shirtwaist Fires WERE ALL INSIDE JOBS
Johnny Appleseed only planted crab apples, Paul Bunyan was the eighth dwarf
John Henry pioneered the jackhammer.
Soothing elevator music to these sore ears.

Heard it through the wiretapped grapevine
Old paranoia’s on the loose again
Track Name: The Wild (The Useless Appendix)
One more spoon of corn syrup now, whoa
We’re only happy when we’re in control
Our bodies made of glass and porcelain
Our smiles too wide for our mouths to hold

It’s all beyond my ability
Cause I was born in captivity
So turn on the lights, and turn up the heat
I need my comforts to feel complete

We can never face the dark except by firelight
Cowering in the night’s no kind of life
We’re not homing birds that follow the stars
We have to build our own just to know where we are

It’s all beyond my ability
Cause I was born in captivity
So turn out the lights, and turn out the heat
That’s all it takes for my mind to retreat

And I’m shivering and blind, leave me like a lost child, oh no, I would have died in the wild
Track Name: Our Rawk N' Rawl Dream
I’m staring at a can of sweetened condensed milk
thinking “where were you when I needed you most?”
Jackson Browne wrote a song about this.
But I’m quite not sure how it goes.
Nobody told me it’d be easy becoming a rock and roll star.
But I wouldn’t trade my rock and roll dream for all the rice pilaf in the world.
Nobody told me it’d be easy becoming a rock and roll star.
Nobody tells me a lot of things.
Someone told me that gargled prune juice is makeshift mouthwash.
Just kidding, they actually didn’t. That never happened.
Sometimes methinks myself a random word generator.
For the longest time, I put wheat germ in my yogurt.
Everybody tells me to follow my dream.
They say: “Pack your pantaloons and shoot for the stars.”
Jackson Pollock wrote a song about this.
But I’m not quite sure how it goes.
Track Name: Blame The Metric System
Inchward bound we centimeter on,
puttering like a paraplegic’s paddleboat
plummeting like a wind-surfing paperweight.
Centimeter bound we inchward on,
we inchworms cry “misnomer”,
we crawl by the centimeter towards eminent nuclear annihilation:
Towards Prague, towards Kiev. Towards Leningrad, towards Stalingrad.
Radiating granulation, granulating radiation.

Inchward bound, we centimeter on.
Centimeter bound, we inchward on.
Lefty commie pinko Jimmy Carter crusaders for measurement standardization.
Until the miles behind us become kilometers,
the francs, the pounds, the rubles the knuts, the sickles, the galleons
all become euros, all become euros
Until the cows come home and their gallons of milk
become liters of sour cream.
Track Name: Atlantis
When the oceans come
Climbing on dry land
We'll crumble like a sand castle
Under their slow advance

At our beachside parties
The leisure we deserve
Sipping wine from plastic cups
That will one day be as precious as myrrh

Can you still feel the chill of the glaciers
In the steady force of the breakers
Some of us looking over our shoulders
at the silent black mass of the ocean
Watching, nervous, waiting for the sound of crashing waves

Look out from our balconies over the beach
At the grasping tide almost within reach
At the sand slowly sinking under the foam

The moon lost its grip on the waves
And they're spilling over the shore
They are coming, slowly, to swallow us whole

On sand-castle dry land
Nothing left but footprints in the sand