(B. Mosley)

appears on Through the Fire

This song is a rewrite of an unpublished, unperformed, vitriolic dirge entitled “Hang”, which close friends and family have asked me to never unveil.

I originally felt the song as a lament that gave a nod to Vic Chesnutt, but when it came to fitting on the “Through the Fire” album, it took on a more Drive-By Truckers-inspired guitar onslaught vibe.

It all got away from you
The claim it had occurred
Could even shame the word
“Sacred”…or “True”

Who got off?
They got good aim
And I got soft, y’all
Or so it seems, but

All the same
You get a name for what you do

It leaves no blood at all
In the vein, the better to
Feed the line in. Pony up the violence
Yet to pay it’s due

And I came to hang by the wayside
And fear no abandoning
The maddening gaze
Of the jejune notwithstanding

Inured in part
The rite of spring
Conceding my heart
I bought a ring

And I am the fool now
If I am anything

My psalm of mourning
The bloodstain had borne
The early warning. A legerdemain for
Any so prone may never know again

Now me and all the other twigs
Aforesaid time decrying
We will dig out of the hell we’ve fallen in again
And then arising. Testifying

You could read into it but not deny
The rules of engagement had not applied
As soon as you waded in
To mollify the danger

And here I hang by the wayside
Gladly the man ordained
The dark red reign
Long weathered was not in vain, and

I’m fine to hang by the wayside
And I am fine to hang here
And I am fine I will hang by the wayside
And I am quite fine and I will just hang right here

So fine here, hey?

It’s so fine here, hey?