Comes in a wallet-style case with cover art by Alma Sheppard-Matsuo, insert art by Hilary Van Santen, and disc art by EJ Landsman.
Includes unlimited streaming of Junkyard Golem
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
ships out within 3 days
When we first came to the end, you tried hard to pretend, you were shocked and surprised, it rang hollow.
'Cause just who'd you hear say, that it'd be any other way? Just whose sweet, charming lies did you follow?
Chunks of the Cyclone, warped and scattered.
Belt Parkway stopped around the bend.
Ain't nothin like storm clouds over Manhattan, to get you in the right mood for the end
Now, just where'd you get the gall, to think you'd never fall, and just when and by whom were you so anointed?
And that first fish to grow feet, and step out of the sea, you must think he'd be so disappointed.
Wonder Wheel washed up on Staten Island.
Just glad it made a hundred years.
Ain't nothin like storm clouds over Manhattan, to put perspective on your fears.
At last, have you nothing to say, have you nothing to drink, have you nothing to prove?
At last, have you nothing to preach, have you no one to reach, have you nothing to do?
At last, have you nothing to save, nothing that might remain, is this nothing to you?
Now, just what d'you want to hear, to calm your rage and fear, with the signs of your doom all around you?
That there's time to see the light, that you've fought a real good fight, that it won't be the same without you?
Parachute Jump is halfway under.
No one's sure quite what that portends.
Ain't nothin like storm clouds over Manhattan, to get you in the right mood for the end.
Now the boardwalk is in tatters, and the bridge is in decay,
But the stars are shining brightly, hanging over JFK.
And I think I saw a mountain lion on the Palisades.
And when Inwood Hill meets Central Park, at least we'll all be sitting in the shade.