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Fourth Peter

by Short Hand

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Night Sky 02:36
Night sky Are you tired Of our pleading eyes Begging you why? Night sky Night sky You ever tried Even just once To just say Hi? Night sky Daylight You lie You never show nothing You don’t even try Daylight Daylight No sign Of proof on the left Or proof on the right Daylight Night sky No dice Your own starlight’s Is just one firefly Nice try Night sky
I kept my head down low Though I knew you could go You kept your head down lower I knew but didn’t know And I’m sure it’s black in Tucson And I bet it’s black in Milan And I know it’s black in Muncie And probably black back in Beijing You in a shadow made of wood You stepped from where you stood Me in a shadow made of smoke Just trying to clear my throat And I know it’s black when I breathe And I know it’s black when I think And I know it’s black when I sing That it’s black back in Beijing
Sometimes I spend the whole day weeping cause of the way When it came down it came down so hard Sometimes it’s like a faucet other times it’s just this awful Feeling like a casket in the yard And the space inside my heart where the sinews pull apart Makes a groan before you hear it pop And the lungs where my air curls like knotted hair Seem to shiver, shrink and then stop Sometimes I spend the whole day weeping cause of the way Your eyes just got madder and madder I think about their glow but like a drunk coward down below I can’t climb a single rung of the ladder And the love we used to know rose to the edges of the boat And the sky as we sailed was free and life we couldn’t find is like the life we left behind Both napping in the cradle of the deep Sometimes I spend the whole day weeping cause of the way Life is so much different than art The way we try to do it, the way we muddle our way through it Like we couldn’t but then we suddenly start A traveler in the wood is lost in a foggy hood Of darkness like a soon to be dead monk And the horse I want to ride is pulled in from the outside And is sleeping in the bottom bunk Sometimes I spend the whole day weeping cause of the way The night crawls over my face With my hand over my eyes when I try to socialize I find I’m walking in a Nothing Parade And the way you know defeat when you’re fighting in the street Is the way that a lion knows how to yawn In a quick, biting instant all the silly drama’s finished And you know what you know from now on
Dead Horse 03:22
Of course, of course, I’m riding a dead horse And of course, I’m way off course. Of course, of course You were better, I was worse Of course, of course, of course. Of course, it’s dirt The way I dig my hurt In a hole, I pretend I was wronged And of course, the sting In everything I sing Is a lie disguised as a song Of course, it’s wrong To act inside a song Like everything too late was too soon And course, it’s not fair I’m not carrying my share Packing just what fits in a tune
God says to me “please wear these clothes” But I say “I don’t think I will. I’d rather just hang out like this.” I say to God “please let me alone,” but he says, “I don’ think so. I like fucking with people like Job.” hey, make it pay, it’s just temptation, thank you Jesus hey, make it okay, it’s just temptation, thank you Jesus I sit around with Eve, in my dreams, Watching TV and making love. God doesn’t seem to do anything. I say to Eve “could you get me a beer?” But god says that I shouldn’t drink. But then he gives me a wink. “listen,” I say, like he’s not even there, “why give us the choice at all?” Because by now I’m sorta pissed. He says, “okay” pushing his glasses up, “why don’t you show me how.” But I say, “but what’s the point now?”
So I think I might be right But then later in the night Alone in the basement I’m a mess My thoughts like little tramps Moving in and out of camp Taking chances with every breath I’m part engineer And part rabid bear And she’s just trying to take a bath A blast of frigid air Cut glass and rigid stares And she wants to saw me in half And she cries Though I try I’m high maintenance And even I Wonder why I’m high maintenance She says, babe, Something’s gonna have to change I might find myself afraid Leading a deep dark parade Pacing in the attic like a ghost If there’s some new hassle With the new castle I’ll find the crocs for the moat
Somewhere on a long phone call A woman is almost done talking Somewhere in the pauses She is already jogging And when she hangs up there’s a panic What if her voice is just too thin? In the end it’s the same thought Again and again and again I imagine in some churches There are paintings on the wall Of fast food restaurants and oligarchs And women who are twelve feet tall But in real life it’s just Jesus With his beard and his droopy chin And in the end it’s the same show Again and again and again The course of human history Doesn’t fit inside a sedan And the highway of human misery Is paved with actual human hands And while there’s no explanation For all the very full minivans, man In the end it’s the same story Again and again and again
No Blue Bird 03:06
Destiny ain’t no bluebird Destiny ain’t the shade on the beach Destiny ain’t something to go looking for Destiny ain’t something to reach Destiny didn’t make the phone calls Destiny didn’t buy a wedding gown Destiny didn’t make you go away and destiny didn’t keep you around destiny ain’t no bluebird destiny ain’t the hope of a new town destiny’s promises seem stupid after destiny lets you down destiny wasn’t the depression destiny wasn’t me telling myself lies destiny didn’t make the hellos destiny didn’t make the goodbyes destiny ain’t no bluebird destiny ain’t a sermon to preach destiny ain’t something to hope for destiny aint something you need
I thought I’d earned respect But it seems I’m still in debt And yet and yet and yet and yet Put the knife down No father of a girl I’d see Ever thought that much of me It seems I’m not an old man’s dream Put the knife down There’s no money in my body, man No business in my busy hands No hourglass of golden sand Put the knife down If not the air and solid ground If not my heart and human sounds If not the darkness all around Put the knife down I thought I’d passed the test Thought I’d aced, nothing less But still it seems I’m a mess Put the knife down I thought I was out of breath But it seems I’m not just yet I wouldn’t guess, I wouldn’t bet Put the knife down
Whatever you say Whatever you plan Whatever you confess Wherever you stay Wherever you stand Whatever you think is best And if in a valley of shadows The moon’s breath is too blue If you wanna know what I’m thinking I’ll be thinking of you Whoever you love Whoever you kiss Whoever drops from your skies However you leave However you miss However the light in your eyes And what happens in the afterlife Ain’t nobody’s got any proof But know that If I’m still thinking I’ll be thinking of you Whenever the time Whenever you call Whenever you feel the sun You make it chime You make it all You make the universe run And above the tallest of trees In a sky as wide as the truth If you wanna know what I’m thinking I’ll be thinking of you
Everybody’s got their own pain tolerance Mine is low when the pain is low But it’s high when the pain kicks in Everybody breaks at one moment or another You raise your eyes from the sunset And the sky is a thick black leather For love Everybody finds a few minutes in the dark When just as you start to drift off A verb stiffens in your heart Everybody lies to themselves now and then And they weep and they wail and they tear their clothes Like Joseph for Benjamin And for love Everybody’s got a certain truly weak spot A place that if you touch a touch The pains slides into a slot Everybody plays a game with no one else You always win but all you win Is whatever you tell yourself For love
No one likes being a junkie, love Except some junkies like it some I never cared how sick I was You were always the one So get on a roll and roll to me Like an extension cord And I’ll get on a roll and roll to you Like a Muddy Waters record When I met your dad, I said, Too bad, dad Now she is coming with me When I met you mom, I said, Lordy, mom, Say goodbye to your darling baby Under picnic skies, under burned out moons Under dark so hard to see We could hold out our guns and hold out our hands At every all-night pharmacy


Fourth Peter is like Third Peter but it's one number higher. Frequently, the songs feel like they're going to fall off a cliff, but instead, they just stand there looking out over the valley. Some people might say, "well, that looks like the valley of the shadow of death" and, sure enough, that's basically what it is.


released June 18, 2021

All music, vocals, and lyrics by Shorthand P. Davis ©2021
Banjo and Mandolin on "Low Beneath the Ground" and "Muddy Waters Record" by Doug Sauter

Produced and recorded by Shorthand P. Davis
Mastering and Post-Production by Kyle P. Snyder


all rights reserved



Short Hand Muncie, Indiana

Short Hand figures that it's easier to learn to play an instrument than it is to find someone who can play it. He also figures that it's easier for him to do the writing, recording, mixing, artwork, and anything else that might need to be done. In the end, a set of sounds collect themselves into different shapes one might call "albums." Some sound like this and some sound like that. ... more

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