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Course In Fable

by Ryley Walker

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  • LP
    Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Lacquer Cut By Dubplates & Mastering in Berlin. Pressed at Record Industry in Haarlem, Netherlands. its such a nice pressing. like holy shit.

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1.
2.
Rang Dizzy 04:45
I remember being final and free bummed a quarter the bookies were stuck laughing never abroad I’m chewing on a loosie dragging brain drain of your choosing 
 folks dodging singing karaoke of credit blanks enter my skull into walls of your apartment square footage with my hands and i am sightless dealers shuffle zen gardens in the card deck 
 I am wise I am so fried rang dizzy inside fuck me I’m alive 
 cast iron curls up a think for me presented to the crowd remains invite only sucker for a fossilized purple bruising I inhaled pure carbon like a movie 
 each Wednesday I load my boot with a beast state flag on newsprint but optics take the lead snapshot of long-form winded by the breeze fake gas pump for photo opportunities 
 I am wise I am so fried rang dizzy inside fuck me I’m alive 
 All duties paid to the Uncle Sam of losing my shit
 we aren’t on nick name basis but social setting allows I extend my hand to all probable possibilities that I may be baptized in seltzer from glaciers 
 as the cherry water runs down my spine I recall coupon codes from minimum wage jobs unionized by labor kept in sheep skin saving up for tires that light up when you drive them 
 she was a real cool hand in the icy figure eight my dreams were projected on national monuments I sat in the lawn wondering “should I dose again”? or just break into song with Illinois flowers
3.
constable someones’ faking their disease of empath winding into mother's arms are bowing sketch lightly grazing grey on veins lowball craving for my hubris collecting bare bones but I’m undressed any lead with deep pockets will do stitching corroborates with half truths 
 venerable someone’s ranking up their retreat with good men dying into panicked waters drying sketchbook charcoal and I can’t trace daylight it only refracts when shocked blind on smoke break breaths snow, sniff, sneeze, and lines any work release isn’t true an egghead breaks their mantra and converts to awful 
 a lenticular slap to the cross eyed seeker the bridge written off the map news crawl from a goddamn tweaker 
 I faked injury call off the bottom feeders bent rules of ritual as fact from a deceiver 
 uncanny weeds begat a mandolin strung out on faith-works splintered into seeds are showing under tongue patterns upchucked from downstream a pack a day throat that sings the blues I sing transactions cashless its collection call rings on the other end I’m shaking shivers  taking requests for queue of givers 
 garden mulch  turned over to see a dead arm reading weekday selections from the world is agreeing can’t sniff lightly palpitations tick on time I only wanted one and that was gonna be fine mary mother of crack rocks the sun comes through the blinds on the other end I’m shaking shivers  taking requests for queue of givers 
 a lenticular slap to the cross eyed seeker the bridge written off the map news crawl from a goddamn tweaker 
 I faked injury to call off the bottom feeders bent rules of ritual as fact from a deceiver 
 hold onto the loose ends hold onto the loose ends hold onto the loose ends hold onto the loose ends
4.
Axis Bent 04:19
course in fable faked by still lightning In search of of able cut my hand trying to reach into low talk of 
 heard the cross that you hung on had cable midweek adverts for joint pain undermine your salvation loose walk 
 when I wrote the song would breathe it was the best I’d ever had jammed up on axis bent was the sidestep of relief 
 blank and jotted first wind of capture i was learned in the back rooms of park facing housing ox marked 
 my lament and possibly rear view bottled in one parts friend the other gold muse fuck truth 
 when I wrote the song would breathe it was the best I’d ever had jammed up on axis bent it was the sidestep of relief 

5.
clad with bunk ironworks inwards if you ever need a friend just call any penmanship can be written off 
 spare tire distilled makes one eye turn grey bed of lavender makes me cough can any watchword bury the top 
 I was due disaster in Driggs somehow I didn’t fall off would like to think I was saved by the way sun gets better in the flatlands man is better buried there 
 twine in navel ghostly thread bleeding thumb new craft inflates us all can any takers tear down a wall 
 sunken favor  floats in servitude days off at the night shift kaleidoscopes sockets ablaze 
 immortal shit head with soft bowel problems  finds god has smoked rock iced tea cans burnt in a bonfire littering is clutter is cruel kindness is bad betting 
 pointing fingers with trapped hands inside sand is better served there I take a glass of twine knots 
 I’m a locked in stogie with a ventilation jam think the fix is in bricks with stilts on a stand cop out for the break out I’m a star on demand in fact I was given restitution with bumps on flat land 
 carried in a cut thumb rotting from my hand crept on a light shadow married to fourth in command breath short from a chain smoke cooked in a beer can grabbed gallows slashing in the inner working stands
6.
crossed words in a canyon folded the bar flies bite my dust drown at life water sunspots for fodder  
 jump into  pond scum oceans I can’t wait until I die walk a victory lap around the whale shit tombs 
 and the carousels sting my corneas in fact the sight of spinning makes the world seem slower if I only gave to charity more often the city streets would have a spit shine that is glowing 
 turned off the left brained rover take yours shoes off inside I’m a case of cold when the bonfire sparks 
 baseline when the frog juice boils I paint smog in the sky with Horse tail comb dope mattress alone 
 and the carousels sting my corneas in fact the sight of spinning makes the world seem slower if I only gave to charity more often the city streets would have a spit shine that is glowing
7.
I’m so rosy and it's a chore still get my rocks off shooting stones blank entry form reads like last rights left Andalusia on totally fucked up terms 
 walk my cobbles  ash anywhere Shiva with dust pan collect no fare 
 housekeeping  for hard sleeping diva with octaves sings national prayer 
 nice digs you got here on hell’s ocean shores second hand smoke burning through the earth’s core gave birth inwards and you took another life eyes roll in the back of my head to see a bank foreclosure inside 
 walk my cobbles  ash anywhere shiva with dust pan collect no fare 
 housekeeping  for hard sleeping diva with octaves sings National prayer 
 I cough up up a lung in a dry heat drops from an ice house, sands of impurity carried a basket full of anything in arms reach collector of denial, postmark guarantee 
 fortnight take-home is a packet of seeds grows in my brain stem pushing out weeds of entropy 
 walk my cobbles  ash anywhere Shiva with dust pan collect no fare 
 housekeeping  for hard sleeping diva with octaves sings National prayer 
 sit up straight for slouched ring burned into canvas beg and choose in the land of opposition I declare a happy birthday to every mouth full of shit willed a table for ten and put your feet up on it

credits

released April 2, 2021

Ryley Walker- Guitar/Vocals
Andrew Scott Young - Bass/Piano
Bill MacKay - Guitar/Piano
Ryan Jewell - Drums/Percussion
John McEntire - Engineer/Mixing/Synth/Keys/Vibraphone
Douglas Jenkins - String Arrangements/Cello
Nancy Ives - Cello
Greg Calbi - Mastering
Jenny Nelson - Artwork
Michael Vallera - Design And Layout

all songs by Ryley Walker

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Ryley Walker New York, New York

Guitar and sometimes sing when the people want it.

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