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Tales of Love and Other Tragedies

by Pope on a Stick

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1.
Ugly 03:25
I hear what you're saying. I'm not listening. I know what the play is. Quit pretending. I've played that game and everyone's cheating. My name's too plain. Everyone's screaming. It always gets ugly. I'm ugly and you're ugly and that's perfect. So, let's not forget how ugly we are. If I scream too loud, you won't hear me. If I believe too much, you won't trust me. If I bleed too long, would you save me? If I cry too much, would you dry me? I never feel wet enough. I'm ugly and you're ugly and that's perfect — perfectly ugly.
2.
So Much 02:53
Let's talk about "nothing" — what I feel, what you mean to me, what is real. Let's talk about "everything" — what I am, what you want from me, what's in my hand. So much of nothing can't be everything, but it's what I want. It's all I want from you.
3.
Procreate — Breed like cancer. Drive me down to my knees. Hungry — devour like disease. It takes my will to be. All I want is everything. After all I'm only. . . Plague my mind like simile. All I want is everything. After all I'm only me. All I want is everything. After all I'm only being meek. . . seed. . . weak. . . greed. All I want is everything. After all I'm only me.
4.
Bleed 02:41
Stare past my eyes. Strip me down. Tear through my flesh. Watch me drain. Watch you smile. It won't be the first time. How does it feel? Does it make you feel young. . . alive. . . free? Tell me, tell me — what do you want? Look in your eyes. This too shall pass. Appetite's fed. Catch my breath and heal again. It won't be the last time. How does it feel? Does it make you feel young. . . alive. . . free? Tell me, tell me — what do you want? I feel alive. What do you want? I am alive.
5.
It's not your flesh that makes me weak. If I asked you would you share in my disease? How long can life be? If you only knew what I'm going through. Tell me — what's this little boy to do? It's not your eyes, your laugh your smile that fuels my greed. If I don't ask you, might I still receive? Life seems short to me. If you only knew. If I could tell you. Tell me — what's this little boy to do? What have I to hide? What have I to lose? Give me just one chance to ruin both our lives. I have needs. I can't help it. All I want is everything.
6.
Shepherd 04:06
Ovine, quiet, driven tame, a little black sheep, broken, lame. Water and feed me. Watch your fingers. Ruminate — possibility lingers. Slaughter — thick, but not as pure as water. Oh, my keeper, master, drover reap my cover over and over. Still you've lead, while I have followed with malevolence that's been twice swallowed. Slaughter — thick, but not as pure as water.
7.
Bedpan 03:13
Bedside, top-side, inside manner, ripped and shredded white cloth banner. When eyes are opened and the devil's been fed, just put me back underneath the bed, where I'll bide my time for what's in store. I swallow and swallow and swallow some more. Drain and drain your callous pleasure. All of your waste becomes my treasure. Feeling like a bedpan. So delicate a princess must be. Below her bedding, she senses me — my porcelain mouth, my heart bedridden, wrapped in blankets, bathed in midden. Nothing's new and nothing's free. If I'm in you, then who's in me? The higher I climb, the lower I lie — putrefy. Feeling like a bedpan. My porcelain mouth — feed me.
8.
In this shell that I am, I watch, but don't learn. It keeps my thoughts away — shelter from you. Nothing lost, nothing gained — immune to disease. Consumed by greater things — confusing my wants with needs. Reflections on the water — strung along. In this shell that I am, I'm everything, but cured — not limited to words — asylum from you. You must go without. There's only one right. No longer plagued by fear, I'll die here in this pool. Reflections on the water — all alone. Love thyself and no one else. Flowers spring from my blood. All is mine that is myself. Beside this pool, I've found my love. Is this love?
9.
Sanctify 03:04
I see I'll never see what lies behind your eyes, but I know what's right. I'll pay the price to sanctify. I know I'll never know what grinds inside your mind, but I know what's right. I'll pay the price to sanctify. I realize we're not the same — that's all. No more, no less, just not the same — that's all, and I know what's right. I'll pay the price to sanctify.
10.
All I Have 02:56
I'll be your martyr, if you know what I mean. It's no longer worth the smiles in-between. I'll go on anyway. No, I wont turn my head. You can crown me with thorns. He's my brother. I'm the one he adorns with a life of pain, and I'll never forget. I'll be your savior, if you know what I mean. It's no longer worth the life in-between. I'll walk anyway. Yeah, I'll lie on my back. You can drive in the spikes. He's my friend. He can do as he likes, as long as he remembers. Because I'll never forget. I know one must own for another to steal, and I could say, "I'm sorry," for the things I fell, but I no longer apologize for my emotions. Because at this point in my life, their all I have.
11.
I've a wire halo and cardboard wings. I can do so many things — turn water to wine and break bread to eat with a thorn in my side and holes in my feet. I can walk on water, if I don't sink. I can open my mouth, if I don't think before I act — before I speak. Am I just another carnival freak in your eyes? It's no surprise. 'Cause, you've heard it all before. Did I ask too much? 'Cause, I still want more? Should I wait outside your door wrapped in the shroud that you once wore? I've a cotton cloud and plastic harp. Nails drive deep when the points are sharp; and the hammer's cold; and aim is true. I can't count all the things I can do. I can raise the dead; and heal the blind; and die for the sins of human-kind. How will they praise me when I am dead? — with egg-bearring rabbits and fat men in red? — and con men with collars out for quick cash? Am I just another doll on your dash in your eyes? It's no surprise. 'Cause you've seen it all before — the crowd and their laughter; the mob and its roar. I won't be just on more set of footprints washed upon your shore.
12.
Smother 03:00
Bridle and smother the lives of each other. Put on another face. Seasons change, but they won't change me. Bound and depending, you're always pretending. You're over-bending-back. It takes my time, but it won't take me. Wouldn't. . . couldn't. . . haven't . . . shouldn't. . . didn't. . . don't. . . can't. . . won't. . . never. . . ever. . . no.
13.
Broken 03:38
How you breed; who you love; what you look like; where you're born; how much you make; who you pray to; what you're able; when you're born — it doesn't matter. You don't have to listen. Close your ears. Close your eyes. Close your doors. Close your minds. You don't have to listen, but I'm not going to stop. You don't have to listen. You probably won't. You don't have to listen, but I'm never going to stop.

about

Tales and Love and Other Tragedies was produced by Pope on a Stick, recorded at Live Music Recording, Pueblo, Colorado; mixed, edited, and mastered at Startsong Studios, Colorado Springs, CO; and distributed by We, Ourselves and Us.

All songs ℗ and © 1994/1995 by J. Fouch (BMI) except for "Ugly" ℗ and © 1995 by M. Trujillo (BMI) and J. Fouch (BMI) and "Sanctify" ℗ and © 1995 by M. Miller (BMI) and J. Fouch (BMI). Used by permission. All rights reserved.

credits

released September 1, 1995

Bass guitar and vocals: Matt Trujillo
Lead and rhythm guitars: Mark Miller
Drums, percussion, vocals, and programming: Brook Mead
Rhythm guitar, vocals, and programming: Jim Fouch
Engineered: Kelly Hart and Pope on a Stick
Mixed, Edited and Mastered: Tom Gregor

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Pope on a Stick Salt Creek, Colorado

Pope on a Stick is an American heavy metal band from Salt Creek, Colorado that formed in 1992, disbanded in 1997 and were resurrected in 2015.

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