Cold Iron lyrics

My baby died


should have buried her at the crossroads

Well, my baby died

should have buried her at the crossroads

Cause she comes to see me every night

makes me reap what I have sewed.



I went to see the preacherman

didn't know what else to do

Yeah, I went to see the preacherman

didn't know what else to do

cause that woman she won't leave me alone

I'm payin' the price for bein' untrue



Preacherman told me,

keep some cold iron by the bed

preacherman, he done told me

keep some cold iron by my bed

cause that's what you gotta do

when you're haunted by the livin' dead



So I got me some cold iron

and some dimes to pay my toll

Yeah I got me some cold iron

and some dimes to pay my toll

I'm gonna send that woman back where she belongs

I hope it don't cost me my soul



words and music by J Franklin Evans

Cold Iron track list

Here's a list of the tracks I'm planning for the Cold Iron song cycle. Things may change but for now this is the lineup of song titles:

The Passing
The Devil I Know
It Hurts
Aeon's End remix
Cold Iron
The Crawl
West of the Moon
Someone to Love
Child of the Moon
The Passing reprise

New Years traditions

We didn't really have any New Years traditions in my family. My mom had this one thing but it was more of a superstition--that if you did laundry on New Years then you'll be washing the clothes of someone who will be dead by the end of the year. I don't know if that's an honest-to-goodness superstition or just an excuse for her to get out of doing laundry for just one day a year.

Of course I watch a lot of football but I do that anyway, New Years or not. That doesn't count.

So, I"m starting a tradition, for myself, for this coming New Years. I'm going to have surf 'n' turf for my afternoon meal for New Years. Got a nice New York Strip at the grocery, along with some shrimp, today. Damn, I'm getting hungry thinking about it . . . gotta wait, though. Something to look forward to!

What about you? Do you have any special family traditions, superstitions, meals, or whatever, that you do on New Years?

The idol with the feet of clay

I'm watching Being Human now and there's a situation that I find fascinating.

It's been done before, I know, and it's been done before, but it works like this: in the show, the guy who is considered the leader of the vampires is trying to get them to swear off drinking blood. He recruits another vampire, a very old one who is wel known and admired by the others, to take the pledge. (He modeled the whole thing after Alcoholics Anonymous--which gave me a good chuckle.) This vampire is apparently gung-ho for the idea of going dry. He speaks at the meetings about it, about the struggle, and how they have to be strong and keep fighting the urge. The others are inspired by his example and are actually managing to do it.

But the truth is, this guy isn't dry--he's conspiring with the leader to continue drinking blood. The others don't know it. It's something the lead vampire thinks is necessary--he really hates himself for doing it but doesn't see where he has a choice.

What I find interesting is this: even though this guy, this powerful figure, was not able to live up to what he was preaching others were, by following what they thought was his example. By him pretending to have the strength to fight the craving the others actually found the strength. Even though his life was a lie, that lie was helping lots of others fight and start winning a hard-fought battle.

So, the lie was helping others, perhaps even thousands of others in the long run. But it's still a lie.

The show doesn't explore it in quite the detail that I would but isn't it just rife with potential? Maybe I'll do something with that at some point. There's a lot here that interests me. It's a subject I've thought about for a long time.

Post Xmas Randomocity

So, xmas for 2010 is in the books.

My holiday was okay. Uneventful. In my case that's all I ask. I didn't receive a lot of gifts but then, I don't want a lot of gifts. So, that was cool.

I did manage to lay down the basic rhythm guitar track for a new tune. I may go back and do it over, or maybe not. We'll see.

'Tis the season for lists. Top ten so-and-so of the year. Someone needs to make a top ten list of the top ten lists.

I just don't understand religious people. Really. Don't get me wrong--I have a lot of dear friends who are deeply religious. But it seems like so many of them are so damned gullible. Maybe that's part of it? I don't know. Even when I considered msyelf a Christian I didn't automatically believe everything everyone told me. I didn't shut mny eyes to common sense. Which, I reckon, may explain why I'm no longer Christian.

Oh well. Randomocity in the title means there really is no central point. I hope your holiday was fun. Any New Year's Eve plans? Go ahead, make me jealous, tell me abou them!

The inevitable Happy Holidays post!

So, to the one or two folks who pop in to see what I'm up to--I hope you have a happy, safe, and fun holiday! Best of luck in the coming year!

Pre-Holiday Randomocity

I was going to spend today--which is a corporate holiday for me--relaxing, after doing a couple of chores such as giving Atari his bath and making some groceries. I was going to nap, watch TV, not do too much productive stuff.

Then my muse woke up and gave me an idea for a little instrumental tune. It won't quite fit in with my current song cycle--this is a little too mellow for that--but it's a nice piece and if I pull it off it'll be haunting and lovely. Fingers crossed! Which makes it hard to play the guitar or the synth, but whatever . . .

You'll see a new widget over to your right. It's a web series that my best friend is producing/writing/directing. You can help fund it--like I did--to bring something lovely and entertaining into the world. My friend is quite a talented writer and this will be something very much worth your time. Tell your friends about it. The more the merrier!

I became a year older yesterday. I really wish that I had something profound to say about that, but really I can't think of anything. I'm an old geezer, a dirty old man, covered in the scars that life has given me, and I really wouldn't change anything. While I don't have all that many friends the few I have are people who have proven themselves. I don't have time or patience to deal with flakes anymore and most people out there seem to fall into that category.

When  you get a chance visit Winter's Thrall's website, since I'm taking this opportunity to push my friends' creative efforts. Jez is an incredible songwriter and performer, and his music is worthy of our time. Give his stuff a listen.

Of course you are encouraged to click the links to hear my stuff, too. It'd make a dirty old man very happy.

Something is very wrong on Wolfe IV

(Below is a transcript of the final transmission from the expedition investigating the ancient civilization on Wolfe IV. Analysis of the recording indicates the speaker is Dr. Alan Tate, an exobiologist assigned to the team.)

I'm sending a blip now with all of the data we've collected. Please analyse it carefully.

We were wrong about what happened here. All this time we thought the stellar irregularities are responsible for the death of this world. It was so long ago, and the eruption from the local star was so intense, who could blame us? But we were wrong.

They were all long dead before it happened, maybe even thousands of years before. Something else wiped them out. We know what it was. What they were. Please be advised that they are still here.

We opened a chamber deep underground, and in it we found . . . things. We took a few of them back to be examined in detail. Our activities awakened them. They studied us and we didn't even know it. They learn, they adapt, very quickly. It seems to be programmed into their very nature. They knew everything about us before they struck.

Everyone else is dead. Everyone. Soon I will be, too. The reactor will go supercritical in minutes. Hopefully before . . . before they find me. I'd rather die that way than . . . oh, my god . . .

These things are parasites. They have evolved, or maybe they were created, to attack space-faring species. We managed to kill a few but there are so many, and they reproduce exponentially, as well. There were only a few of us left before we even realized what we were up against.

I know a distress call went out. Please be advised--we didn't send it. I've only now managed to gain access to the communications room. Perhaps that's part of their plan, as well . . . if they are intelligent enough to plan. Rossy (probably Dr. Melanie Ross, senior mission specialist, archeologist) thought they might just be very sophisticated animals, creatures who watch and imitate behaviours they observe in the species they infect. Maybe she was right. Now I'm not so sure.

They want you to come and try to rescue us.. That's how they''ll spread. Soon they will be everywhere and mankind will join the ranks of those who lived here before--a dead race. We won't be able to stop them.

So, please, stay away. Do not come here. Honor the names of those who died here, but leave them here. For the sake of humanity.

Goodbye. Tell Daniel (Daniel Tate, Dr. Tate's son) and Pam (Dr. Pamela Tasso, Dr. Tate's ex-wife) I love them.

(Long range sensor scans of Wolfe IV indicate areas of high radioactivity in the area where the expedition was based, consistent with a super-critical event. The decision of the Ad Hoc committee created to investigate this situation is for a team to be sent to the site for a forensic evaluation  Dr. Tate's psychological profile indicates that he was not as stable emotionally as once thought and he perhaps suffered a psycholgical break and destroyed the expedition as the result of a delusion. An on-site team will gather evidence. Analysis of the compressed data file transmitted is still pending. Any specimens found are to be gathered and returned for analysis.)

The Devil That I Know

The Devil That I Know




You say you don't understand my rage

Well, there you go, it just goes to show

'cause it’s the same thing all over again

Same old show, do your damage and go



You never see from my perspective

I tried to explain why I feel this pain

It really doesn't take a detective

to understand where this is coming from



This is the devil that I know, a gift from you to me

This is the dance I have to dance, the show I have to see



I guess I should be grateful

You made it possible, irreversible

Because of you now I am knowledgeable

Honorable, accessible



How you made it clear that you hated my dreams

So pathetic, unsympathetic

I realize now that it was more than it seems

Your scorn was a cover for your fears



This is the devil that I know, a gift from you to me

This is the dance I have to dance, the show I have to see

This is the pain that I must feel, forever a part of me

It keeps me sane and sets me free



I used to think I was a monster because of you

I wondered what was wrong with me

I hated myself because you told me to

I finally discovered it's not me, the monster was you



This is the rage I'll always feel

Long as I live, I'll never forgive

You've taken all from me that you can steel

No longer submissive, no longer derisive



This is the devil that I know, the one that brought me here

the rage that blooms inside I think I've made that clear

You'll never really understand why I do what I do

But you introduced me to the devil and for that I thank you



words and music by J Franklin Evans

The Prince, The Stag, and the Wisest Man

by J Franklin Evans



Once upon a time, in a land far away, the Prince rode on a quest through the vast forest.

The Prince wore a simple cloak, covering his fine armor and weapons. His horse's bridle was unadorned but well-made and expensive. At first glance he appeared to be a simple traveler, perhaps a merchant, using the forest as a shortcut.

His purpose, however, was more than it seemed. He was on a quest from his father, the King.

It was the third day of his quest when he encountered a stag.

This stag was magnificent, fully grown and in the prime of his life, with an impressive rack atop his head. This rack was entangled in a thorn bush a few feet from the trail.

When the Prince saw the stag he stopped his horse and climbed down, drawing his sword and approaching the animal carefully. The stag, he reasoned, had been so trapped for a few days, and was weak from trying to free himself. He could feel the fear from the beast radiating from it towards him as he approached.

He slashed with his sword, once, twice, thrice, and freed the beast.

As the Prince turned back towards his horse, intending to remount and continue on his way, he discovered that the stag had not run away as expected. He turned to see the animal standing still, watching him.

"Why did you do that?" the stag asked.

Astonished at the thought of a talking stag, but only for a moment, the Prince considered the question. "Do what?" he asked. "Free you?"

"Yes. Why did you not simply continue on your way, leaving me in my predicament? Or slay me?"

"I saw no need for your suffering, especially since it was only a matter of a moment for me to free you." the Prince replied. "Also, I do not kill for sport and as you are weak from hunger and thirst, it would not be sporting to hunt you in any case. I also do not require your meat, as I am amply provisioned. Letting you live means another who is less fortunate  may kill you, where your meat would feed a family for some time, and your skin would provide clothes and protection from the elements. If this does not happen you will certainly sire others who will in turn provide their meat and skins to the people of the Kingdom, or sire still more in their own time."

"Indeed." said the stag. "You are wise."

"Some may say that. I am, however, quite simple and oblivious to the most obvious facts."

"Modest, too." the stag said, and snorted, as if amused. "I see you wear the cloak of a simple tradesman, but your armor is fair and well-maintained. Your sword is sharp, free of rust, and you are skilled in its use. Your mount is healthy, well cared for, and strong. I suspect there is more to you, simple traveler, than meets the eye."

The Prince bowed. "You know me?" he asked, becoming amused himself.

"I believe you are the King's son, the Prince and heir to the throne. Am I not correct?"

"You are." The Prince said, smiling.

"And why do you travel in my forest, alone? Are you not afraid of bandits and cut-throats?"

"I can handle simple riff raff." the Prince said. "There are no outlaws in this land who can harm me. I travel under orders from my father, the King, who has sent me on a quest."

"Really?" the stag said. "What do you seek?"

"He has asked me to find the wisest man in the Kingdom. It is said he lives in this forest. I have searched three days so far, though, and have not found him."

"How will you know this man when you find him?"

"Father only told me that I would know him."

"I see." the stag said, nodding. "How came you to be sent on this quest?"

"Of that I'm not sure." the Prince said, his brow wrinkling in thought. "One of father's guards told me he heard father muttering in his bedroom four nights ago. He was supposed to be alone so the guard burst in, fearing an assassin had slipped in. Instead he found father standing at the window. The window was open and the room was freezing cold. There was a bird on the window sill, a crow, and father seemed to be talking with it."

"Ah." the stag said.

"You say that as if this answers a question."

"In a way. Many crows can speak your tongue, though they know not what they are saying."

"I thought of that as well. However, the guard told me father was weeping, and sent him away. The next day he sent for me and gave me this quest."

"I see." the stag said. "Well, I must tell you that I am a spirit of this forest, old and powerful. Since you have saved me from my predicament I am empowered to grant you a wish."

"Really?" The Prince said.

"And you were correct earlier when you mentioned that I was weak from hunger and thirst, so please be about it quickly so I may eat something and drink."

"May I have just a moment to consider?" The Prince asked.

The stag said nothing, simply bowing his antlered head, acceding to the Prince's request. The Prince stroked his chin as he thought.

"My father," he finally said, "Is a wise and powerful man, beloved by his subjects, respected by his peers. He has no enemies; something I'm sure you would agree is remarkable for one as powerful as he. It is no secret that when his life ends I will inherit his throne. While I am beloved in my own right, if I may say so, I know I would not be nearly as good at ruling this land as he. I love this land, my dear stag, and wish to serve it and her people well when the time comes. My wish is this--that I serve the people and this land even better than my father when I become king."

"So be it." the stag said. He lowered his head again and raised it and for a brief moment his dark eyes flashed red. "Your wish is granted."

There was a startled bellow from behind, and when the Prince turned he saw his horse lying on the ground, unmoving. He rushed and knelt beside his mount, touching him. "My horse is dead." he said, standing, turning back to face the stag.

The stag was gone.

#

Poetry for the Poisoned

I dig Kamelot, I'll let you know right away.

And this one, which came out last July, does not disappoint. They continue to develop musically, thematically, lyrically . . . Lead singer Eric Khan is in fine voice, as you'd expect, but these guys flex their creative muscles.

The one is darker than their previous work. The guitar work is a bit more pronounced, and there are more solos than I normally expect from them. All of this is a Good Thing. Getting Epica's Simone Simons to contribute vocals on a couple of songs is also a Good Thing--she's no stranger to Kamelot's recording sessions but here she's especially wonderful. Check her out on "House on a Hill." Absolutely wonderful song.

There aren't that many albums--not even by these guys--that I usually listen to from beginning to end. This one is that good, though. There aren't any songs I want to skip over. Check it out. It's quite wonderful.

I give this one an A+. And I do not hand those out lightly.

The Next Big Thing

After much thought I've decided to close out the Ashes and Bone song cycle.

I know it's short--only three songs--but it just feels like it's done. You can go to my Myspace page to hear them if you want. They are the first three songs--"Walks Like A Man," "Homeworld," and "Ashes and Bone."

Next up will be a longer one--probably ten or twelve songs--I'm calling Cold Iron. These will all be extremely heavy tunes, on the order of "Walks Like A Man," or "Inside." There is no underlying story or anything, though the songs will be unified stylistically and thematically.

The reason for this is simple. In the past I've heard so many bands that considered themselves "metal" who would release a tune that really rocked. So, I'd buy their CD, expecting ten more songs like that one. But no, the other songs would be really sappy ballads or stupid and boring pop tunes. Just that one song to catch my interest, then boredom . . . anyways, this is a response to that. If you like one of these tunes, you'll like all of them, more than likely.

I'll be posting lyrics for the tunes that actually have lyrics (I'm anticipating two instrumentals at this point, though there may be more) as I write them. I may also do a couple of remixes of some of my older stuff that I think would fit with the newer stuff--got a couple of tunes in mind for that, in fact.

I'll also probably not upload these until I have them all finished. I'd like to post them all at once, so you can listen to the whole thing in one sitting. This of course means it'll probably be a while before anything new gets uploaded to my music websites. Plenty of time for you to click over and listen to the stuff that's there now!

So, watch this space for lyrics, news, and whatnot!

Pain as a character

Okay, I'm thinking out loud here, kind of, so bear with me, and forgive me in advance if this doesn't make any sense.

I'm thinking about pain, and how people use it to obviate guilt.

Say you've done something terrible. You didn't mean to do it, but something horrible happened and it's your fault. Maybe because of you, your child is dead.

No matter what anyone else may say--even if your spouse, your parents and your in-laws, everyone is willing to forgive you, would you ever be willing to just forgive yourself? I wouldn't. I don't think I could ever suffer enough or go through enough pain to feel like I've attoned for something like that. No matter what everyone else says.

But also, look at it this way. Put the shoe on the other foot. If you are the spouse in this case, and you told your wife or husband that you forgive him or her and she thought about it and said, "Okay," and went on with his or her life like nothing had happened, would you still feel the same way about this person? If he or she can just shrug off something like that, like it was a minor fender bender in a parking lot or something? Even if watching this person suffer the agony of grief and guilt tears at your heart and you'd give anything, anything at all, to ease this person's suffering, even if you get frustrated as hell at this person for continuing to torment him-or-herself over this, even if in your heart you really and truly forgave this person, wouldn't you rather he or she felt that way than the opposite?

That's one aspect to this story I'm working on. Another is the role of pain in love and relationships. Yeah, I write about pain a lot. It's one of the few aspects of the human condition I think I understand.

So, this is where you say something.