2001: The Final Songs

The Final Songs

All songs by Nathan Beach and Grant K
© 2001 Bryan’s Cabin Songs, ASCAP

Recorded at Lowfashion!Dallas
Recording by Climate
Tracking October 2000 – December 2001
Climate Homemade Records

Additional musicians: Bill Driegert, drums on most titles. Josh McKibben and Chad Stockslager did backup vocals on “Winter Gloves” and “Default Life”. Chad also played piano on “Big Houses”, “Default Life”, and “Winter Gloves”. “Winter Gloves”, “The Dime In My Pocket”, “Big Houses”, “Default Life”, and “Miles” were all recorded on the Roland VS-2480 24-track workstation which regularly crashed and destroyed much of Climate’s work. Thanks, Roland! It also didn’t help that Tylan Gaines, Jr. of 13102 Roselle Avenue, Apartment #3, Holly Park, California 90250, phone #323-281-2187 sent a $3200 forged money order as payment for the VS-2480 when we tried to sell it over Harmony Central, none of which we ever recovered. These five recordings were all rough mixes done before the crashes and are the only record of a year’s worth of recording. The other five recordings were done on a Yamaha MD8 eight-track recorder and were meant as demos for the working album. It nearly ended us! That’s why they’re called The Final Songs.

Free Download (MP3, 82MB)
Free Download (FLAC, 241MB)
Album B-Sides (MP3, 65MB)

  1. Winter Gloves (4:29)
  2. The Dime In My Pocket (2:40)
  3. No More Tears (2:04)
  4. No More Cake (4:08)
  5. Feel Day (2:52)
  6. The First World War (4:29)
  7. Mobile Phone and Wife (1:31)
  8. Default Life (4:57)
  9. Big Houses (6:02)
  10. Miles (3:33)



i move my bones
and feel the wind
i miss my home

the tree-lined world
the sallyfied phone
the trigger tightens
the body prone

i put on my winter gloves

eyes blind by blinking
i’m glad just thinking
in the trench to-night

but you see my hands
aren’t made for guns
they’re for winter gloves
and blocking the sun

with one winter glove on my left hand
and one winter glove on my right hand
off I walk into the night
the fallen snow is mostly white

i once had some friends
their names were matthew
mark, luke, and john

the soldiers died
one by one
there’s no more dancing
no more fun

and with one winter glove on my left hand
and one winter glove on my right hand
off I walk into the night
the fallen snow is mostly white


i kissed my last shoe
a sudden change in careers
and i found a dime in the phone booth

your suitcases came
but i still haven’t seen you
i guess it’s the rain
the lightning and thunder

so long, so long
a stream of busses and trains
and feet rise and fall in the breadline

my suitcase is lost
a dime in my pocket
my baggage is gone
a dime in my pocket

i thought you were lost
but i feel you in my pocket
good-bye, i’m gone
a dime in my pocket


what kind of people here?
it’ll fit its rhymes
the clock face covered in tears

well, what can you do?
i smile at you
as you fold the newspaper in two

darling watch me say
forget this time
forget this terrible day

dear get up let’s go
where no more tears
will salt the end of your nose

i thought maybe you’d be happier some day

feel the foreign sun
forget that civilization
until the excavation’s begun

why can’t we be
climbing in a tree
in the golden fifth century

oh the sun sets soon
we will smile half moons
and do whatever you choose

dear get up let’s go
where no more tears
will salt the end of your nose

i thought maybe you’d be happier some day


i used to see you so frequently
you got places to go and people to be
it’s half past three just fall on the sheets with me
smooth the lines on your map
you can head on home after our nap
give me another kiss and look at the road map

you used to be a lovely dream
now you’ve sewn the seams and made yourself clean
you send the newspaper flying back at me
one thing before you go
could you ever believe that i liked you so
it was all you knew and all my friends you know

take it off your back
hang it on my coat rack
don’t be sad
i am not that mad

turn toward me at half past three
close the door so he can’t see
all the things that you do to me
friday is another day
with fields to till and bills to pay
your soft skin on the pillow just can’t stay

out, out, the morning came
the skin is gone but the light remains
people can change, but we just stay the same

follow me to your birthday party
no more cake
it already got started
hold your breath until we’ve parted

take it off your back
hang it on my coat rack
don’t be sad
i am not that mad


lips caught in your braces
grass blades on sweaty faces
birds fly off the bleachers
moe’s curls want a blood free floor
behind the cafeteria door
in the early weeks of may
it’s feel day

mumbled words behind the laugh track
the actress screams when she hears the boom crack
now i know their teeth are precious little knives
that help them swallow more
behind the cafeteria door
it’ll never go away
it’s feel day


fighting in the first world war
had knocked my clock onto the floor
i’ve wanted to know for eighty-four years
what’s the time and is it the hour for tea?

i must have found some new words now
a blast of air the lips allow
a liquid bridge across the alveolar ridge
so go ahead and burn your dictionaries

i drove through the rain in my blue car
and then i left the door ajar
incessant dinging as the pay phone’s ringing
just to say, “would you pull your lips off his cheek?”

i stayed in bed with someone new
for half the day and thought of you
no more stomach clocks and half-broken locks
to-day’s the best day i’ve had so far without you

would you hold the umbrella for me?


you think life down there is lame
well, death can be arranged
you never tried thinking
it’s strange

that i gave your head a brain
things to eat and games
but somehow you just turned out
the same

you always caught the fastest train
and knew your children’s names
and liked that you weren’t outcast
or strange

you wandered through your life
with mobile phone and wife
and never smelled the ocean
at night


gardening clothes on thursday night
the rabbits chew and run from fright
so the lettuce sleeps in peace to-night
these new birds sing like telephone rings
and we just stay inside with our default lives

newspaper lands at the door
wet from the sprinkler it drips on the floor
the midday passes me by
hello, good evening, the news anchor smiles

the nighttime city glows
with shopping malls and other stores
our song’s on the radio
phones and our fingers and paint on our toes

we’re so happy in our party clothes and default lives
i’m so happy in my party clothes and default life


a family car drives past big houses and small trees
they named this street after me
a hidden cul-de-sac
cold umbrellas and wet feet

blinking, the baseball hits the bat
the policeman tipping his hat
he later rests his feet
on the back seat half asleep

human, many times removed
from hunger and misery
she’d finally come to love
the awkward symphony

screaming, the maid jumps up on the chair
it almost whitened her hair
the rats just want a home
with a t.v. set and a phone

two rings, my sweet heart picks up the phone
i was tired of being alone
with the neighbors i’ll never know
and the wipers throwing wet snow

morning, i’ve got some things to do
so let’s meet back here around two
she said she’ll wait in the car
so i can’t really wander that far

this sneezing keeps me up all night
my doctor may have been right
all the kleenex on the stairs
and on the armrest of my chair

mid day i feel so fresh and renewed
it just enhances my mood
psychiatrists all say
it’s something i need anyway



© 2001 Bryan’s Cabin Songs, ASCAP