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Over​/​Under

by American Fado

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1.
Dawn of the New Age 04:10
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Nothing hits me deeply I walk out Free in the cold dawn I walk out Everything hits me softly I walk out Pushin' through the wind and I walk out Dawn of the New Age Get your helicopter now One's got a number, another an idea Dawn of the New Age Let's go swimmin' One's got a number, another an idea One's got a number, another an idea Who's this writing? Who's this writing? One's got a number, another an idea One's got a number, another an idea Dawn of the New Age Get your helicopter now One's got a number, another an idea Dawn of the New Age Let's go swimmin' Nothing hits me deeply I walk out Free in the cold dawn Can you feel the syllables? Nothing hits me softly I walk out Can you feel it with me? Do you feel it, too? Free in the cold dawn I walk out Can you feel the syllables? I feel the syllables Can you feel the syllables? I feel the syllables Everything hits me softly I walk out Pushin' through the wind I walk out Can you feel it with me? Dawn of the New Age Get your helicopter now One's got a number, another an idea Dawn of the New Age Let's go swimmin' One's got a number, another an idea One's got a number, another an idea Who's this writing? Who's this writing?
2.
Slinky 01:58
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Slinky There’s no use followin’ each other around downtown simply by the stickers on the backs of our automobiles. And there’s no easy formula for the gross tragedies in our hearts and in our minds. Or humor in the bad clothes that we all wear. Please understand the seriousness of letting certain kitchen appliances take you to other various exotic and sometimes nefarious balloons. ‘Cuz we all have almost too much courage. Which is a lot like none at all. So if you please, excuse me. Circumstantial holes managin’ bonfire echoes among the hybrids we all aspire to be. Next many slinky statues are limiting the several long hipped Canadians I used to know. But those sweet ladies have returned home. Circumstantial holes managin’ bonfire echoes among the hybrids we all aspire to be. Next many slinky statues are limiting the several long hipped Canadians I used to know. But those sweet ladies have returned home. Please understand the seriousness of letting certain kitchen appliances take you to other various exotic and sometimes nefarious balloons. ‘Cuz we all have almost too much courage. Which is a lot like none at all. So if you please, excuse me.
3.
Silence Bleeds 03:58
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Always out runnin' errands Always on the fly Never fear, I don't need you You're off the hook--don't even try Just don't ask why I won't speak Already have answer in your head We just lay here while silence bleeds Neither one of us owns this bed I'll not swim any ocean I won't climb any peak We'll just continue to lay here While this silence bleeds We could pick this apart Make some effort to communicate Meet down by the river Iced over with hate Just don't ask why I won't speak You got the answer you want; you need I won't hold your hair While you lie to your own soul Neither one of us owns this bed Already have an answer in your head We'll just keep lying here While this silence bleeds
4.
Hex Exin 04:53
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5.
Bala Cynwyd 03:21
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Bala Cynwyd It’s a punk rock fantasy; a post-punk rock reality ‘Cuz there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head Yeah there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head And it’s crazy talk to me; yeah it’s crazy talk to me ‘Cuz there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head Yeah there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head It’s a punk rock fantasy; a post-punk rock reality ‘Cuz there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head Yeah there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head ‘Cuz we both swim furiously; yeah we both swim furiously And there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head Yeah there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head Had a great time in Bala Cynwyd; yeah great time in Bala Cynwyd But here’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head Yeah there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head Well you don’t have to know my emotions; No you don’t have to know my emotions ‘Cuz it’s crazy talk to me; yeah it’s crazy to talk to me Had a great time in Bala Cynwyd; yeah great time in Bala Cynwyd Where are you? Where are you? It’s a punk rock fantasy; a post-punk rock reality ‘Cuz there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head Yeah there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head And it’s crazy talk to me; yeah it’s crazy to talk to me ‘Cuz there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head Yeah there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head And you don’t have to know my emotions; No you don’t have to know my emotions And you don’t have to scream in my ear; No you don’t have to scream in my ear ‘Cuz it’s a punk rock fantasy; a post-punk rock reality And there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head Yeah there’s somethin’ rollin’ round in my head
6.
First of the Next Last 05:36
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Crumblin' rose on my table, half finished bottle of wine Unplugged in North Hollywood, got maybe a couple of dimes You thought you knew me, don't even know yourself I'd hear you open your mouth, felt like maybe you turned up the sqelch I'm just the first of the next last to get run out of town You wanted a legend; left you with a smile upside-down Bloodstains on my pillow, what happened to that fuckin' rose I'd sing for a bag of weed, beats hangin' from a garden hose All I want's the paperwork; still you're too busy ignorin' me Least I can rest assured you'll be the death of that poser creep. I'm just the first of the next last to get run out of town You wanted a legend; hope your whole world's turned upside-down I'm a walking cyclone, throwin' straw through telephone poles You're a cheap bed of nails, lie on you and get up full of holes Went to buy a TV; ended up with another guitar Least I can rest assured you're a nobody who'll never get far I'm just the first of the next last to get run out of town You wanted a legend; left you with a smile upside-down I'm just the first of the next last to get run out of town You wanted a legend; left you with a smile upside-down I don't want you inside of me... Crumblin' rose on my table, blood stains on my pillow Unchained in North Hollywood; you don't even know yourself I'm walkin' cyclone; you're a cheap bed of nails I'd sing for a bag of weed, beats hangin' from a telephone pole I don't want you inside of me... I don't want you inside of me anymore You wanted a legend
7.
Muses Everywhere 03:19
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You think I'm such a sensitive fuck Yeah well, I don't live on an island I'm tired of hiding all of pain But you know I'm not an advertisement Lookin' out, out at the game Well, you know I'm ready for more Don't see anything, anything to gain I don't need you in my head no more 'cuz There are muses everywhere don't you know, Try not to stare There are muses all over the world don't you know you're not the only one girl This here's a celebration song 'Cuz I know I don't need you now A lesson like this is hard to live through And you know I've been through it all I'm sure you've been through it, too I don't care if you stand or you fall Don't need anymore, anymore of you're pain I don't need you in my head at all There are muses everywhere don't you know, Try not to stare There are muses all over the world don't you know you're not the only one girl This here's a celebration song 'Cuz I know I don't need you now

about

American Fado's second album.

Guitar now fully engaged, our Everyman glimpses the Aeonic implications of It All and prepares the First Recapitulation.

The Long Walk begins.

Songs are written while cases of Two Buck Chuck, Rockstars, and bags of weed disappear. He sleeps on his own floor. There is Nothing in the Living Room but unfinished canvas.

His survival leaves its own scars.

credits

released September 5, 2014

all songs composed and performed by Charles Claymore, except 'Hex Exin', composed by Michael Douglas Olson and Charles Claymore

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all rights reserved

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American Fado Los Angeles, California

Underground space country garage punk. Yeah, that's what we said.
Or how about you just listen and tell us what we sound like?

We like that plan best.

American Fado is:


Charles Claymore: Guitar; Bass; Synth; Baritone Guitar; Vocals;
Ustad Morelock: Guitar; Baritone Guitar;
Brian Redfern: electronica, bass, oud
Dave Miech: keys, backing vocals, percussion

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