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Got a hammer and a chisel and a couple dozen friends, and we climbed up in the mountains in the middle of the night. We were drunk in the beginning, though we sobered toward the end. By the time the sun came up everybody felt alright. And when I stood back at a distance, my knees went a little weak, to see your likeness on the mountaintop up over Deadhorse Creek.

There’s a crater in the canyon, where the meteorite struck. We lived just up the road a piece in a house made out of clay. When the dust had settled, we found we were in luck ‘cause our enemies were buried, or perhaps they’d run away. So we slaughtered all the cattle, and we drank wine for a week, and we washed off the detritus down in Deadhorse Creek.

And the foxhounds quit their barking once the foxes went to sleep
And their masters struck their matches, lit their pipes and breathed it deep
And at the time nobody knew the havoc we would wreak
When we settled our encampment on the shores of Deadhorse Creek

The county fair rolled in today. I heard them coming down the street with a thousand head of cattle and a grand flying trapeze. And the lion tamer warned me, as he washed the lion’s feet, that the acrobats were misanthropes and the cattle carried fleas. Still, the people flocked from miles around and packed in cheek to cheek. They pumped the water for the waterslides up out of Deadhorse Creek

And my uncle Jeremiah thought he’d make a buck or two, so he built a little house down there with a flashing neon sign. To all the vagabonds and minstrels who came a-passing through, he sold locally farmed berries and dandelion wine. Competition sprang up overnight. You can buy liquor and antiques in that strip mall where the highway passes over Deadhorse Creek.

And the foxhounds &c.

A year ago just yesterday we sat on this very wall, and you asked, “How can love compete with fortune and critical acclaim?” And I loved in the summer, but I loved you less come fall, and by the time spring rolled around again I could not recall your name. So when I read it in the papers, I could not help but weep, and my tears mixed with the water down in Deadhorse Creek.

I was in the crater Monday, when I heard the foxes bay, so I laid down my plowshare and I went and roused the hounds. We chased them up the valley, and across the king’s highway, but we lost them in the hillsides as the sun was going down. So we built a little fire, and we settled down to sleep beneath the moonlight glinting off your forehead and your cheek. And at the time, nobody knew the havoc we would wreak when we settled our encampment on the shores of Deadhorse Creek.


from Former Lives, released May 19, 2016




Day Laborers and Petty Intellectuals Seattle, Washington

Day Laborers and Petty Intellectuals is a six-piece folk-apocalypse band from Seattle, WA, featuring cello, violin, theremin, bucket drumming, and four-part harmonies, not to mention heartfelt songs about love, life, and the end of the world. DL&PI has been bringing their cacophonous blend of indie rock, folk, punk, country, and jazz to the barrooms and bedrooms of the Puget Sound since 2012. ... more

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