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letra de june - american murder song

sixth of june, 1816

i must confess that i have not written often of late
and when i do, it is a clemency i give myself
for the inkwell continues to freeze
this has surely been as cold a weather as any man has known
the calendar is false. i say, is this not summer?
the east hills that overlook my property
they have all been k!lled by frost
the less fit plants and vegetation
beg for mercy where there is none
i have none. i want none

worse still, an almost perpetual rain
confines me princ-p-lly to pace the house
where i have taken to wearing socks and coats
and gloves too big for my fingers
a steady fire has been required at all hours
though the ice in the wood has made it difficult to chop
and heavy to carry, troublesome to drag

copious showers have been attended
with lightening and thunder
and the road has been barren of souls for weeks
save for a post delivery last tuesday
is this what we fought for?
i would have welcomed the company
of course, but it was a parcel for silas
the rider asked to come inside
to be spared from the crippling frost
(go ‘way, go ‘way from my window)
but i set him off

this matter was settled when that d-mned treaty was signed
(go ‘way, go ‘way from my door)
i don’t understand why i’m being punished
(one year, three months, eighteen days.)
i hope the animals take him
(no, god don’t live here no more.)

eleventh of june, 1816

there has never been so poor a harvest
as this season, as now
new england has become a festering graveyard
it was better when the king ruled us
not this uneven wind

beans are froze
cuc-mbers, roots, they are froze
the well is froze
the body is froze
outside, less determined, disgraceful men
and wives and daughters stampede
like slow, dying bulls, mewling, heading west
aren’t we so full of christian grace?

a persistent fog has reddened and dimmed the daylight
it is as if the sun itself has become pocked
and blackened with sores
i am so very tired

general jacobs came to the house again
(go ‘way, go ‘way from my window.)
third time in a day
(go ‘way, go ‘way from my door.)
i don’t understand his ignorance
i should lie in bed and ignore the knocking
(one year, three months, twenty-four days.)
i should make him hope
that will suit him
hope is for the weak
(no, god don’t live here no more.)

thirteenth of june, 1816

as i write this
i am convinced that the sun has taken ill to defy me
more convinced than i’ve ever been of anything
nature is rot
or are my superior wits deceived
by a fiction gnawing in my belly?
father would say so
now, i have taken to eating loathsome foods:
boiled gr-ss and udders, if i can find them

men came from town yesterday
(go ‘way, go ‘way from my window.)
“where is your brother?
where is your brother, silas?”
(go ‘way, go ‘way from my door.)
i gave them nothing
we stood on the porch for an hour’s time
a senseless eternity
(one year, three months, twenty-six days.)
across the field, a sickly creature limped about
i so wished to reach for my rifle
(no, god don’t live here no more.)
make quick work and eat again

eighteenth of june, 1816

today, reverend brown came
i wished to k!ll him to establish peace
his blood would be my own treaty
a dead bird was frozen in his hand
i bet it was god’s judgment
i, too, have a rifle

no, reverend, i will not beg, nor be humbled
before a god who will make of me an american
(go ‘way, go way from my window.)
yet hate me so freely for it
(go ‘way, go ‘way from my door.)
is he not a father who does not love his kin?
don’t we all have our pacts to make?
(one year, three months, thirty-one days.)
soak them in blood and honor them
i will not be punished by men
(no, god don’t live here no more.)

twentieth of june, 1816

so, i fear, this is summer
lands are all but abandoned
gone like the red sticks
save for me
what beautiful promise this is, silas
silas. silas. silas
i will not be punished, silas

father, you want your son?
take my hands then
for i will not wash his blood from them
this land is mine
should have always been
and if summer survives
and i can find a measure of warmth
i will not bury his body, not my brother
i will let the animals gnaw on his bones
and i will send him to h-ll in your heaven, father
may you both be blessed in blood

you want punishment?
you’ve found it
i wish you death

your only daughter

- american murder song

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