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Battered Receptions

by Julian Fulton

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1.
Howl 04:35
"What's the point in fighting when the writing's already on the wall?" Paul said to me Then he said, "What's the point in breathing when you stop believing that you're ever gonna walk tall or be free?" And I said Howl from the belly of the beast Can't you see that war is trying to conquer peace? It's not a trick, it's not a script, it's not TV It's your real life, open your eyes, they're trying to keep you in the streets [x2] "What's the point in praying when things keep staying the way they are now?" Paul said to me Then he said, "I'm getting tired of weaving past the stones they're heaving in hopes of knocking me down, locking me down, and tossing the key" And I said Howl from the belly of the beast Can't you see that war is trying to conquer peace? It's not a trick, it's not a script, it's not TV It's your real life, open your eyes, they're trying to keep you in the streets [x2] I'd run if I had somewhere to go This daily hustle's all that I know A triggerman that's ready to blow A criminal before I was born Into this world so petty and torn Where angels are the ones with the horns Something here has got to give All I want to do is live All I want to do is live Let the tide roll by It's time to leave it behind And I said Howl from the belly of the beast Can't you see that war is trying to conquer peace? It's not a trick, it's not a script, it's not TV It's your real life, open your eyes, they're trying to keep you in the streets [x2] Howl from the belly of the beast Can't you see that war is trying to conquer peace? It's not a trick, it's not a script, it's not TV It's your real life, open your eyes Howl from the belly of the beast Can't you see that war is trying to conquer peace? Howl from the belly of the beast Not gonna let 'em kill us in the streets
2.
Constant, yet stealthy are the waves of insecurity That, like a snake, coil around Rosie's last sense of purity It's absurd, obscure, obscene, or somewhere in between But true virtue resides within the lies you tell yourself to sleep at night When it's dawn, her ageless alarm clock croons With the battered receptions of old rock 'n' roll tunes The kind her dad used to play before the day mom walked in on him With the receptionist he started a new family with in Florida That Halloween, if Rosie could remember Grabbing a boy and drinking herself into November Trying to find salvation, and pretending she'd found some In the bottom of a bottle of rum she stole from her mother's emergency stash Would she take it all back? Or is small-town suburbia so uneventful that You have to cling onto everything that ever could have been real What better way to feel than every way and every how? The time is now, the now is here The here is you, and we're all here, too And we're all insane to deny our pain And embrace a place where no one will change Rosie, cash in your coins Pawn your jewelry Catch the train when you're done smoking Ride it straight past Hoboken On the way to the big, bad city Don't even wait for your hair to dry Don't even wait for your hair to dry Get on that train and say goodbye [x2] Rosie, cash in your coins Pawn your jewelry Catch the train when you're done smoking Ride it straight past Hoboken On the way to the big, bad city Don't even wait for your hair to dry Don't even wait for your hair to dry Get on that train and say goodbye [x2] Rosie, cash in your coins Pawn your jewelry Catch the train when you're done smoking Ride it straight past Hoboken On the way to the big, bad city [x2] Don't even wait for your hair to dry Don't even wait for your hair to dry Get on that train and say goodbye [x2] Your disposition is to fly away, so why you tryna stay? (Why you tryna stay?) Catch the train when you're done smoking Ride it straight past Hoboken On the way to the big, bad city
3.
4.
Little Ricky working 9 to 5 Trying to save for school, doubting that he'll make it out alive Life's been rough, but he knows better than to wonder why He bites his tongue to not sound dumb Now sits wishing that he gave it the old college try He laughed off the stranger's advice, but what if she was right? Little Ricky painting his nails pink Not a big deal, but his father always makes a stink But never in the confines of a mattress-lined basement He picks his cup up off the floor And pours himself another gratuitous drink He laughed off the stranger's advice, but what if she was right? All he wanted was a little more than the liquor store could give Little Ricky working for the NSA Traded his soul for a buzzcut and a little pay Seeing what everyone writes, but not hearing a single word they say Clock in, clock out, daydream about the one that got away Clock in, clock out, daydream about the one that got away He laughed off the stranger's advice, but what if she was right? All he wanted was a little piece of who he used to be To circle back and sneak into the driver's seat And throw it all away Throw it all away... Throw it all away
5.
For You 05:37
I tell you that one day you'll love me But what really slaughters me is the truth You were made for him, and him for you What can I do? Nothing, nothing When I live for you You, oh Took what you need, you needed it more than me A tactless ploy were we Take what you have, I never wanted it that bad It is worth it to have one less memory Took what you need, you needed it more than me Now you've got no reason to come back

credits

released May 12, 2017

Written and produced by Julian Fulton
Co-produced, mixed, and mastered by Adam Cichocki
Engineered by Adam Cichocki, Julian Fulton, and Adam Vaccarelli
Assistant engineered by Augusto Sanchez, Jr.
Recorded at Timber Studios, Howie's Hideaway, the Donovan home, and Retromedia Sound Studios

Art & design by Julian Fulton
Photography by Kristine Donovan and Casket House Co.
Saxophone notation on 'Stranger's Advice" by Zac Silva

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Kristine Donovan - backing vocals (1-2), gang vocals (1), lead vocals (5)
Aidan Fulton - claps/snaps (2), gang vocals (1)
Julian Fulton - acoustic guitar, bass, drums, drum pad, electric guitar, electric organ, electric piano, harmonica, maracas, piano, synth, tambourine, ukulele, vocals
Howard Fulton - backing vocals (1), gang vocals (1)
Liam Fulton - claps/snaps (2), gang vocals (1)
Zack Sandler - saxophone (4)

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