Bones
from Parable by black horse motel
-
Streaming + DownloadIncludes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.Purchasable with gift card
$1 USD or more
-
Buy the Full Digital Album
-
Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album5-song "Parable" EP on CD, in 2-sided full color jacket
Includes unlimited streaming of Parable via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.ships out within 7 days$5 USD or more
-
lyrics
An old map in the glovebox
This old truck still smells like granddad’s cigarettes
A three on the tree and a clutch that sticks
A windshield spiderwebbed where mama wept.
Daddy drank every time that he felt small
Try as I might I cannot recall a sober glance
Daddy was a son of a bitch
He drank every time that he got that itch
And then that hand would start flying
A young boy crouched in the closet
He waits so silently for dad to sleep
Mama face down on the carpet
And toward the telephone that little boy did creep
Granddad was the rock and the shelter oh
Daddy was a son of a bitch
He drank every time that he got that itch
And then that hand would start flying
And then that hand would start flying
You ain't nothing now but bones
You ain't nothing now but bones
Turn all the lights off stay at home
You ain't nothing now but bones
You ain't nothing now but bones
You ain't nothing now but bones
Lock your doors and stay at home
You ain't nothing now but bones
This old truck still smells like granddad’s cigarettes
A three on the tree and a clutch that sticks
A windshield spiderwebbed where mama wept.
Daddy drank every time that he felt small
Try as I might I cannot recall a sober glance
Daddy was a son of a bitch
He drank every time that he got that itch
And then that hand would start flying
A young boy crouched in the closet
He waits so silently for dad to sleep
Mama face down on the carpet
And toward the telephone that little boy did creep
Granddad was the rock and the shelter oh
Daddy was a son of a bitch
He drank every time that he got that itch
And then that hand would start flying
And then that hand would start flying
You ain't nothing now but bones
You ain't nothing now but bones
Turn all the lights off stay at home
You ain't nothing now but bones
You ain't nothing now but bones
You ain't nothing now but bones
Lock your doors and stay at home
You ain't nothing now but bones
credits
from Parable,
released January 13, 2017
license
all rights reserved
tags
about
black horse motel Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Philadelphia's Black Horse Motel crafts its genre fluid city folk sound by taking traditional folk instrumentation and lyrics, blending them with Americana roots, rock, blues, and country influences and tying it all together with rich vocal harmonies. The resulting sound is infectiously foot-stomping, heart-breaking, familiar and new. The band released aew EP, And The You Were Gone, July 20, 2018. ... more
discography
-
Jul 2018 -
Jan 2017 -
Mar 2013 -
Sep 2012
contact / help
If you like black horse motel, you may also like:
-
Feel The Ground You Walk Upon
by Lewis McLaughlinOld-fashioned fiddles harmonize with rippling synths on the Scottish singer-songwriter's latest collection of original folk songs.
go to album -
Introspective pop songs with transcendent melodies offer a joyful meditation on staying present in a world that often moves too fast.
go to album -
Crafting powerful songs about commitment and love, the Nashville singer-songwriter channels and subverts ’70s country and folk tropes.
go to album -
Dakota Blue Moon
by Jackson HardenGorgeous acoustic Americana from North Carolina, stripped-back and sublime.
go to album -
Papa Bear Sings Baby Bear a Lullaby in a Bearhouse
by Hige KumaRaucous jams from this Austin artist with hooks so immediate, they bury themselves in your brain.
go to album -
Tides of a Teardrop
by Watchhouse (formerly Mandolin Orange)The forthcoming album from Mandolin Orange blends rustic Americana melodies with aching, orchestral arrangements.
go to album -
Meet Me at the River
by Dawn LandesOn “Meet Me By the River,” Dawn Landes’s self-described “Nashville record,” buoyant country melodies settle deep into lush instrumentation.
go to album
