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Down & Out In The City Of Saints

by The Peelers

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1.
I feel like I should warn you, caution and inform you Body is all black and blue, face a deathly greyish hue Workin’ on a quart of brown, one turned into twenty now Clinging tightly to the wall, the floor’s seducing me below Out the door on Friday, don’t you know it’s my day Hat and boots and Perry on, I’m off to mourn the neighbor’s son I never will forget that day, the corpse woke up at Jimmy’s wake It was an awful thing to see, the body dead drunk merrily I’m a villain from the Bloody Shame, that fought the hags of war I’m a bruiser and a boozer and a darling warts and all No lager ale, no India pale, no pills that’s for sure I need a fix of triple x a bottle of the pure, give us a roar Jimmy scorned that he was dead, sat upon the box instead Beguiling a punk rock girl, her eyes were black and her hair was blue Kelly grabbed him by his locks, threw him back into the box Said “James yer done haunting us, it’s six feet down into the mud”
2.
All thumbs and lost, my armor still shines The arrows are pulled from the quill I’m the cavalier rake on the back of a mare Saddled with hard luck and ill I’d give up my crown, for a drop of your blood Sanguine and pitiless too Well maybe I’ve had, a little too much But I’ll never forget about you You can drive me to drink, I’ll give you the keys And I’ll chart a path to the sea There’s only one bridge, that I’ve never burned Only one name I carved in the tree Can we meet by the bar, on old Beard Street In my pocket a kerchief of blue If I step to the plate, I’ll stumble and fall But I’ll never forget about you I’ve been to New Orleans and I’ve kissed the cod I’ve walked through the valley like I’m Johnny Wadd And now every morning, well I’ve got the shakes Down and out in the city of saints Saved by the hallowed, in the father of waters Blink, and you’ll miss the whole scene By grace and redemption, brim to the dregs Heading home, six whiskeys deep Well the trip isn’t long, I was lost several times But I’m more than just bender and bone Well I’m tired, I’m sinking, the boat’s run ashore Between wind and water I’ll go Ya I’ll sit with the spook, who bet on the flush I’ll fall on his sword for you too All shitfaced at best, I’ll spare you the rest But I’ll never forget about you
3.
Prizefight 03:27
Junior Murvin on the radio I had the, top down and the car’s real slow I got a pork pie on the red velour for me Two dollars for a glass of brew Down at the Social with the Skeleton Crew It was Danny Lawless and Irish Stew with me All my sisters and my brothers Punks and kids and nutters All my boys in the city of saints Three swallows on a bottle (It’s a prizefight) I’m squaring up (It’s a prizefight) no sucker punch (It’s a prizefight) and the prize was always you Aimed the shark down the boulevard Tattooed and proudly scarred I laid my plan out on an old postcard for you You were always at the top of my list Sacred heart for a lonely wish It’s police and thieves on the end of a fist for me Prizefight gonna rise above Salvation sealed in blood Gonna dispatch all my love to you
4.
Your honor he is guilty, but we don’t call it sin He sealed his fate at six years when he let Luke Kelly in Before he knew of punk rock he could sing The Parting Glass Schoolboy in a headlock with a tape deck checkered past And if this is a confession, it’s more shite than you and I Well he came into this world a flame, snuffed out when he died He’d done his time in pubs and bars and roamed the valley o’er He drowned the ghost of yesterdays in spirits seldom sober In bliss or torment judge him now But it’s not what you are thinking It was an angel that put it in his hands But a devil made him drink it There was Ryan from old Belfast, and a piper from Dundee Jack Bauer bought him whiskey in the snug on Clarence Street In that shithole down on Crescent, above Bill Hurley’s bar Where the ceiling was collapsing and they stole his bloody car Well he slept up on a rooftop in Knoxville, Tennessee Where Jesus struck a Guinness pose and lost the fucking key Drank wine in old Virginia with admirals by the beach Til someone cracked their ankle stumbling shitfaced down the street He knew most of his heroes, and he loved them all to death Even those who are departed, names whispered in a breath He burned out like a candle on an altar full of tears If the man was a contender he’d a made it out of here May you be there half an hour, before he knows you’re gone May he walk with saints and poets, and his nights be rich and long May the ledger of his life, be a joy to look upon With a million grinning faces at his wake to sing this song Fearnley’s concertina will be the soundtrack of his life While he rolls into the grave a mess who never dodged a fight His memory should live a thousand years and maybe more Fixed in myth and legend like the cap his father wore And he won’t forget Missus Donnelly our lovely Irish rose Her advice on handling drunkards? “You just break their fucking nose” Thank all his friends and family for love and their support For putting up with absences and showing up in court And when he is afflicted, noggin, lung, or liver Won’t you take him down to the port and roll him in the river He had a hat when he came in, and lost it in the brawl And he’ll have a hat when he goes out, or he won’t go out at all It’s a long, long, way from your moral high ground To a whiskey fueled delinquent Well he punched the clock as a union man But took a pirate boat to sink it
5.
Stick & Move 03:16
Well farewell to Loughmahon, he’s flying across the sea To fight for Murphy’s boxing, as the pride of Cork City The thirteenth son of Erin, assassin in the ring With a devastating uppercut, the man who will be king And you can hear the cry from the South Ring Road You better stick and move like yer man (Spike) O’Sullivan Yer man (Spike) O’Sullivan when you step on the mat Ya you better stick and move like yer man (Spike) O’Sullivan Yer man (Spike) O’Sullivan or you’ll be on yer back You know he shows no mercy, you’ll get no leniency He’ll strike you down with poison mitts, the cross of misery The thirteenth son of Erin, will put you on yer arse The devil don’t fuck with the Irish no more, since they tore his house apart Good morning Mister Casey, who sir shall I brawl? My corner man is the great John L., Boston born and strong Send me another bleeder, I’ll whisper in the clinch I’ll hit you so hard you’ll feel the wrath, of the Celtic Warrior Gym
6.
Well once upon the avenue, I caught a fearful sight A hood emerged from hell’s alcove and stepped into the light The rain fell on his gutter crown with a Dunhill in his hand He shot his cuffs, quickened his gait, crept nearer a black sedan He pulled a heater from his coat, tossed the cigarette Sidled up to the driver’s door and put two in the back of his head The cordite rose from the barrel, as the spirit said goodbye A passing cailín crossed herself saying, “nobody wants to die” Well death she’ll never leave, death she doesn’t lie Death her pearls are powder white with sorrow in her eyes She waits and in her purity drains the color from your face She’s down at the crook of wretched and ruin to cushion the plummet from grace They walked into a public house and ordered with a shout The barman claimed the high ground, “boys i’ll throw yer arses out” “I’ve no grievance with the likes of you, I’ll make no last request” He swore on the ghost of the king of the gypsies in effigy upon his chest When I walk into the pub it’s like all light begins to fade They cut ‘em down in the half light like the Lay ‘Em Out Brigade The traitors of class and virtue and they love to drink and fight No quarter given to anyone by the rakes around the point Goodbye my darling family, farewell to all my friends Open the book to the page on perdition to find out how all of this ends Bound for California, and I’ve scattered the riches too Oisín himself should rise from the grave, to see what the Kennedy’s knew A brutish pack of devils, the likes you’ve never seen They’ll coddle you in a nightmare, and end you in a dream You’ll find them with Moll Flanders, and other tramps and whores Be well, God bless, now on yer bike and fuck off out the door
7.
All in all, I want you to know I’ve been thinking of you You were a star, you always stole the show Booze and cigarettes too And I remain for reasons that aren’t clear Declare old recollections like I care Searching high and low, everywhere I go For some abandoned trust that isn’t there Well you checked out, a long time ago Washing down that bitter pill Strewn fables of a legend we all know I always have, and I always will But now I’m glad to see the back of you Broken down hero wherever you go I’m glad to see the back of you You can flog that dead horse on your way…out the door Haul away, to some old and distant shore Haul away, where they speak of you no more Oh no more Tonight we tear this whole place down And raise a glass to me and you You were a star, you always stole the show Booze and cigarettes too
8.
Last Glass 04:01
Turn out the Christmas lights This house is lonely without you And head out bold into the night Just like we used to do I think of plans we made A pledge that we wouldn’t hurt But plans like memories fade And they get covered up in dirt How much is too much rain When it falls each and every day When it won’t circle down the drain How do you make it go away Cuz no one gets a second chance So pull yourself up off the ground Ya fix your gaze without a glance And change your tune without a sound And what if this is our last glass Just know I loved you all along If all we’ve done is all we have And all I’ve left you is this song We tried to save ourselves through co-dependent Counseling and you both should end it But you don’t know it broke my heart The last six years were very hard I ante’d up on serotonin Low intake shots went toe to toe with My resolve another round Was the toughest fighter pound for pound Sweet mint oil, bourbon on my breath This salve will fight me to the death It’s whiskey, poison, pride, regret But there’s still time, you haven’t left us yet Turned out the Christmas lights They burned too bright anyways Well I think about you all the time “I recall the moments, not the days” And how did it get so late Time fades easily Becomes a burden like your ghost Haunts me eternally
9.
I remember when my bell was rung And Angel got her wings In that strip motel inspired by the Velvet Fog And I was bonded out on charity And pawned off saccharine rings I betcha didn’t think we’d be around this long Sometimes I’d like to have it all But most of the time, I couldn’t give a fuck at all And when the last train’s left the station boys And the spirit gives the nod If I can’t get better, do I have to get right with God Or can I stand up straight with my head held high And my back against the wall Because the bigger they are, the harder they will fall A pox on all our enemies Courage to all our friends They’re crushed and beaten down on the open road And I don’t wanna be a casualty And broken dreams don’t mend Finding yourself is just like going home And it’s, stand up, cast out, dashed hopes, sing loud Long count, no grace, swing hard, is what it takes
10.
From here to Halifax she said Through fields of green and red You know that you were always on my mind Farewell to Boston and New York You’re always in my heart When I think of you the tears get in my eyes And I am blind Chicago in March, had some fun Robert bought us whiskey where the west was won To the furious sound of the box and drum I wait, for you And the wind that blows to the north and south Vanishes in this old town Bleeds away the dreams that we once had Bellows to mend, I outran the hound Drinking with bandits in some small town From the brim to the dregs, tavern to the lounge I wait, for you

about

Now based in Montreal, The Peelers were formed in 1999 in North Glengarry. They immersed themselves in a hotbed of Gaelic culture that smashed head on into a love of whiskey, poetry, footy, debauchery, ska and punk. The band has evolved to become one of the most acclaimed Celtic punk acts in the game. They don’t just bend the rules of tradition with their blend of aggro & trad Irish - these long ball merchants tear it to pieces.

‘Down and Out in the City of Saints’ features 10 songs, recorded in Montreal, Dundee Scotland, and Vancouver between December 2019 and June 2020. In keeping with their more recent material, Dave Barton’s songs reflect the North American experience of the diaspora with a tip of the newsboy cap to the Quebecois narrative and the lure of Boston and New York; blending truth and fiction, glory and sport, love and loss, darkness and despair, while introducing composites of individuals, companions, friends and foes met along the punk rock journey.

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released March 12, 2021

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The Peelers Montreal, Québec

Now based in Montreal, The Peelers were formed in 1999 in North Glengarry. They immersed themselves in a hotbed of Gaelic culture that smashed head on into a love of whiskey, poetry, footy, debauchery, ska and punk. They don’t just bend the rules of tradition with their blend of aggro & trad Irish - these long ball merchants tear it to pieces. ... more

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