At Night the Trains Sound Like Music

by Parlor Voice

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1.
01:16
2.
01:41
3.
02:30
4.
03:27
5.
6.
7.
01:14
8.
9.
10.
01:23
11.
03:26
12.
01:20

about

Recorded at Casserole House in Spring 2017 with:

Spencer Brown--Drums
Daniel Hickey--Bass
Sam Steenwyk--Guitar
Johnson Cochran--Guitar, Vocals, Synth, Production
Stephen Hoogewerf--Scratching

Mixed & Mastered by Johnson Cochran
Cassette Design by Emma Carpenter
Art & Layout by Johnson Cochran

credits

released June 30, 2017

Many thanks from the parlor boys to:

Casserole House
James Li
Stephen Hoogewerf
Luke Dean
Morgan Hayden
Julia Lancer & the Sparrows crews
all the lovely folks who come to our shows
Miller

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Parlor Voice Grand Rapids, Michigan

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Track Name: My June Park
Pageant pop at L'Oreal bar kills all its guests. T-shirts and dresses incorporated things that I hated. Things that human beings chose--my June park with body pile art. Pour your laconic form over me. For the weak are blessed with perfect conversions, tea-colored curtains. They are truly holy here, flipped off by truckers down where the river collects the fuckers.
Track Name: Sprouts
Vacation waste and red park clay. Venturing near to second whipping. When the longest sleep of the longest year was over we shot through on menacing lies till nine. What we didn't know would hurt us--but not right then.

No one left in the night
No one left in the night
No one left in the night

And home on the highway drags.
Track Name: Holy Spit
Under every floor of every chapel: crimes faithful hide. When the congregation dies will it pay the wage--return the bride--for their God days. Like the morning of every prom day high beams light up the anxious and untried and the paling red ink buried so deep in their God days. Right under your nose what do you know--fading fast the liturgies. The living-out-of-garbage-bags-waiting-for-life.

Fury denial of their God days.
Track Name: Dude Crews
Urban barns. Dog park ecology demands a toast. Tomato rose in my arms--detergent for clean dirt. There's too much flour in this town of ours. Dude crews and mansions of old will find you and you'll recognize each other.

So dress up tonight. You're a soldier. Darken the light. Now you're older. Get to a bar. Don't be sober. Will it be fine when we're older.

Head inside explorer across the street lightly leans on the glass. Signs they were happy here. Revisiting scenes of love their crime. You don't know the sons of guns--they know you. The past is never past. Pretend to be asleep in the twilight all the humble pie you'll eat.

So dress up tonight. You're a soldier. Darken the light. Now you're older. Get to a bar. Don't be sober. Will it be fine when we're older.
Track Name: Penitent Heart Peckers Ltd.
Hunted in a white out dream. Amen hoarders of my bed. The sun rode out on hot mist: the infallible six penitent heart peckers limited.

Sitting in a truthful soup I see me look at you. The sin of all omissions--I lost the count i know. And it’s alright isn’t it.
Track Name: Lesser Portsmouth
A sickness not easily obscured is why I spend my time alone running through forests of Lesser Portsmouth. Swimming pools filled in with mud are stealing lovely mothers' sons. No one can withhold their demons from them. So leave me food to beg. The roots are growing red. The cargo hid inside my kin offends the earth. It barely lets me walk alive.

Rodents and earwigs you know are thankfully the end of love and time enough to retrace tracks to no one. To swimming pools filled in with mud and when you call me up I remember what I left in Lesser Portsmouth. I'm told the earth is deep but not secrets it keeps. And up to taller truther hills I failed the climb and barely made it home by night.
Track Name: The Clean
It takes a day to lose the weight of grey breath the smile of your street. Dark circle Sundays. Grapefruit Mondays. Who shines the forks in wet concrete. Who steeps the tea where no streams meet.

Wilt it off
We'll get off
Track Name: Accused of Flying
Accused of flying--I don't think so. I have never strayed that far. With the packing scales weighed down whatever leaves is homeward bound. And the violent bees are buzzing--they don't care about me. Fund the wicked for a touch. Sing your loved ones off the cup. I take our worn out games for granted. Nothing else remains the same. For a lifetime of of note-writing in the dark.

And the deal gets worse: I took on a home run case of hearts. Now they embark to enjoy the fair share confirmation.
Track Name: Taken from a Chapel
A sun came of metal memories frozen to the grass. No one was swallowing anything. A headless following.

All vows break
No thing safe

Pluto the ultimate muckraker. His voids have voids. This an astrologer's world now. A headless following.

All vows break
No thing safe

You predicted me better than scientists.
Track Name: Sinbibed
Slow down. The sunlight bleeds the fruits of porchlight pink

--

Cats in the yard love that bird.
Cool
I can be cool
I am be cool
It's not a fool
thing.
Track Name: Salty
Well if there's nothing but a cusp--no tracks from where we've come--then let's stay drunk. I guess I'll wait forever, a somber awkward settler of feuds. To wait out this embarrassment with you. Every comfort just a poison. And I hate that I don't mind that you leave me behind. There are things that I will keep. No one can know but me.

Fine, respect the undertow. it's what they want the most. But don't you feel your acting will forsake you. The gardens will reclaim blood and bone. They smile for the streets that you hold. For no one is forgiven. And I hate that I don't mind that you leave me behind. There are things that I will keep. No one can know but me.

You can leave I'll find my feet here in the dark.
Track Name: Seem to Sing
When I lay down hear a lovely and unchanging sound. Every night omission every hey-what-was-that grinds to one.

Swimmers talk I reply, "A chance of self a taste of rain." Wine it all write a note on basement rugs I left my coat. Rock rose punts minus rays. Tells us now: the name is wrong. Wine it all write a note on basement rugs I left my coat.