This is a track I started a long time ago, and really fleshed out as I went through a loss of love and a loss of faith, and it's the central conflict song in this album.
I've got these seven lilies in my garden. I don't think I've got enough
to buy your love with roses, pretty flowers, fruit, and lots of other stuff.
I'll get seven lousy dollars for my garden and I think I oughta sell
to the devil handing me a penny for my thoughts I might as well.
And what would you think of me if I didn't have that squash inside my garden
that you eat with lots of salt and butter cream?
It's a mystery to me.
But God's got seven gardens full of angels and they're watching over me.
At least that's what I told myself.
I'd be begging you, baby, not to leave me, but I don't have much to say.
Seven whole times I told myself that I don't wanna be that way.
I don't wanna be the guy who has to cater to your lust for better things
like pomegranates filled with diamond seeds and lilies wrapped in golden rings.
I don't wanna be the boy who has to buy what you are selling,
but baby, I'm a man, so there's the door and I am telling you to leave.
I'm telling myself I'll be okay, but I'm running out of lies.
I'm stuck here writing music while you're cashing in yourself with other guys.
And damn, man, what will they do when they find just what it is they're looking for?
They'll rape that empty void that money left in you and leave you feeling poor.
Cuz everybody's praying for themselves, and those who aren't are really hoping.
And everybody else is hoping too, and wishing they were getting more.
But there's no god and there's no Heaven, just an empty life
where every hand is hiding behind a back and fingering a knife
and everyone who isn't fucking her is checking out your wife
and it's a cold, untended garden of a planet, where nothing ever grows.
At least that's what I tell myself when I feel this cold wind blowing through the garden.
And I can feel this cold wind blowing through the garden.
from Souls and Ghosts,
track released July 1, 2016
Written and recorded in Minneapolis by Brian Reed
Mixed and Mastered by Ryan Main
"Irreverent yet poignant, the experimental indie Ghostbustery of Jim Frankenstein evokes a malty, existential angst with the bourbon oak undertones of a bassy pasquinade. Jim is truly the soul of an old man who died asking 'why?'" -Stone McSullen