The Ghost and the Guest

by The Ghost and the Guest

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Jeremy Lance
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Jeremy Lance This is a really great record because of the creative design put into it. This a concept album centered around a fictional journal set in the Wild West. A wonderful story that needs your attention. Favorite track: Pickett.
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    The Ghost and the Guest is a story album set in the American West. Your download comes with a collection of short stories written from the main character's point of view in both PDF and eReader formats. An excerpt is listed bellow.
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1.
You can't tell what's it like until the feeling arrives because it's hard to listen and not just hear there's lessons to be learned in some else's burns but we'll always be here and never there because the words were more with the melody and the notes were more as the chords they weaved and they don't know just how they motivate me You can't tell what it's like until the darkness hits the brights and you squint like little kids when their mom turns on the lights because they don't see more than the sting and they don't know that the morning breaks like a wave
2.
He don't have the strength of all the nation but he don't mind helping out there's a time for self reflection but it's best behind the plow And he's close yeah he's close despite these imperfections they have use in the collection and he shows yeah he shows just where he gonna end up every time that there's a mess up there's always room He don't want to feel like he's a no one that's way he believes there's something there heaven's both a problem and solution just depending where you are
3.
Love 03:04
Well the sky's got color even when it's all dark it's like someone's gone and shot up my heart but without those holes there'd be nothing to see without these burning scars the sky wouldn't gleam and I don't feel right without your there to see with more than my eyes so just stop please wont you show me the way love's not simply just something you say it's more like a compass than an X on a map inscribing us in circles just where we're at and I don't feel right without you there to see with more than my slightly silhouetting bright yet complicating you know just what I mean sing me to sleep and that chest, just, keeps beating and beating and beating and beating
4.
Pickett 06:14
This story begins like any other I suppose with a man in black and busted nose making his escape you see he’d lost everything he had to loose except the clothes on his back and his worn out shoes but none of that matters now When the squatters came and torched his house got to know his wife and kept her blouse something vital snapped some say it was a nerve deep in his brain or a chunk of his heart due to the pain but I guess we’ll never know So when is plans for revenge wound him up behind bars a few nights in he jumped the guards and that’s where we find him now And so I roam and all I’ve known are tattered footprints and a foreign pillow and I don’t care because my dear is still a whisper on the wind and my heart is too hard to simple break of bend because they’re not taking me alive He ran all night and was discovered one town over by a kindly young girl named Lola Larae she took him in, dressed his wounds, watered the soup to make it go around and waited until he came to as he did, she began to ask “where are you headed”, “where are you from”, “what’s your name” but his answer was always the same “it doesn’t matter to me, why would it matter to you, thanks for your kindness but I’ll be gone in the morning” and he rolled over, leaving Lola to return to her room just as she was drifting off to sleep, she heard a faint melody through the walls she slipped out into the hall and heard the man was singing cause I don’t need a soul if there’s nothing left to live for I’ll watch my life wash away ‘cause baby, all I need is you With a squeak of the floor boards, Lola was discovered entranced by the man’s desperate exchange with the darkness she said “your song reminds me of one my mother use to sing us” and automatically dropping her gaze to the ground, she began I sat down by the old oak tree and heard we’re more than roots and branches and leaves and so should sing you and me we’re more than skin, and hair and bones and teeth we’re simple like a sword and a sheath and who we are is buried deep underneath A thick awkward silence fell on the scene which was eventually alleviated by the drag of Lola’s night gown against the wood floor coming morning the man was true to his word and gone with the rising sun grateful for the girl’s kindness but unable to be quenched And so I roam and all I’ve known are tattered footprints and a foreign pillow and I don’t care because my dear is still a whisper on the wind and my heart is too hard to simple break of bend because they’re not taking me alive The weeks became a blur along the side of the road sleep, and sustenance were overtaken by his flames of rage after countless threats and kicked down doors, the man caught wind of a murderous group roaming his country side still determined, he set his sights on their leader who lived in a house too big to have been earned honestly Slipping in through the back window in the darkness having decided revenge was wasted with a warning he ran through the following memorized moments he slipped out into the hall and saw a slowly rocking silhouette singing a song all too familiar I sat down by the old oak tree and heard we’re more than roots and branches and leaves and so should sing you and me we’re more than skin, and hair and bones and teeth we’re simple like a sword and a sheath and who we are is buried deep underneath ‘Cause I won’t have a soul if I take another man’s world I’ve watched my life waste for too long I want a chance to breathe without the choking vale I see without these nagging thoughts unsure and all these questions blame won’t cure and if I hold you to my view, would you help me say that I’m not taking a life
5.
The Same 02:40
Sticks and stones and idol bones hanging round instead and I don't see how the seeds turned lovers to friends there's something slow that I don't know creeping 'round my bed but I won't keep my eyes open When she dreams dream just the same I've got her lips on my brain when she bleeds I bleed just the same to give her blood and take her pain The sharpest knifes and party lines seem silly at the most now life's come round and taken sound all I had to boast the treasure's rust and turned to dust leaving my crimson skin but I won't keep my eyes open When she leaves I'm left with the stain of where she sup'd and grew in vain where she loved is soured to pain that I must now bear in shame
6.
He's taken it back like he's got nothing left to loose he's taken it back like that's exactly where the wind blows he's taken it back like he is squinting in his soul like everything is right but the world says no no he's taken it back because he's the rightful owner he's taken it back because it was his from the start he's taken it back like no one's gonna stop him cause life of journey of loosing and forgetting He's taken it back because a life's a precious vessel he's taken it because on the tossed and stormy sea he's taken it back from all the bad decisions he's taken it back though they might not be all his he's taken it back like a life time of wages stolen in handfuls in big burlap bags oh cause he's the one oh cause he's the only one who can say to his heart ache "be free"
7.
so why don't you just take it slow there's no reason for us to go you've got the money honey check it and see what it means to live perpetually so why don't you just take it back and get us both back on the track you've got the money honey, check it and see the sums adding up to make us happy but... their call you out and I don't feel like a spades a spade unless it's real cause it's just paper and ink so why don't you just read it slow what better way for us to know you've got the money honey check it and see those portraits are smiling and like it's all free so why don't you just look on back at our wake of blue and black you've got the money honey check it and see the notes aint lying and the numbers don't bleed ink that doesn't scar gets washed with the next bar and though it may seem hard it's not to say what I wanna say I've got them running on the back tripping on the rock I kick up and the dirt they’re sucking's just a reminder that I'm on top
8.
(Listen) 01:30
The westward winds pushing on his shoulders and the weight of the world seems to be over the thunder clouds have moved to greener pastures and the lighting strikes have returned to their old master And it sounds like the world begins to turn and with the rush and the whirl you know that you'll be there soon Oh he don't know where he wants to go but it's time he's got to listen
9.
Killing Me 03:49
Why don't you just breath the sad song is over I told you memories fade but you can't let go over her wounds will scar and bleed but you won't just leave her behind a dead horse is doomed to lie so please just keep going Here in spirit always here in spirit here in spirit always here in spirit but you won't just leave her behind who ever said you had to see to feel it here in spirit always here in spirit so please just keep going She's killing me she's killing me and I can't help but be scared it's taking its toll and making its wear Lives aren't lived in the past you're afraid to say hello goodbyes are all you've had it doesn't make them a lose of despised though the view may be nice it's not worth the trouble you'll find is scar and ice so please just keep going Here in spirit always here in spirit here in spirit always here in spirit but you won't just leave her behind it's not worth the trouble you'll find here in spirit always here in spirit so please just keep going She's killing me she's killing me and I can't help but be scared it's taking its toll and making its wear She's killing me she's killing me and I can't help but be scared it's taking its toll and making its wear Take a look and it's everywhere that sings her song and following your heart, it never seems so wrong a ghost is just a guest that lingers too long the change is just the day to day She's killing me yeah it's killing me but it doesn't count for a thing
10.
Quakies 03:18
Rocks in the river and the stones in the stream and all the pretty songs that the birds don't sing if you want to talk about you and me you'll find me up there among the quaking trees the way's out the valley and the roads unknown and the stream keeps on giving where ever she goes if you want to talk about you and me you'll find me up there among the quaking trees Like the old oak tree like the western breeze bring sweeter things I know there’s a hole outside as the fires dies I can hear the cry
11.
California 03:06
n/a
12.
I chased the sun and they say she won but I don't remember seeing her run and in the twilight gleam, I think it's time to concede Smoothed and worn since the day was born like baking bread she's kept me warm but my skin's all scorched and thick to the touch But you're miles and miles oh you're miles and miles away you'll take it slow, you really don't know that you're miles and miles oh you're miles and miles away The song’s been song the painting’s done the words and the notes now rest as one relief more sweet than I could convey Those stinging eyes now bagged and dried replaced with coins and heavy sighs but the they won’t cry no more no they won’t cry no more

about

Journal Exercpt: The Aftermath

"I feel as though my memory is as black as the bottoms of her feet, and hands and everything else in the remnants.  An unnatural black, like stepping into a forest after the long golden grasses of summer were consumed from a simple lightening strike.  The young, the old, all were washed away in the impartiality and gall of the August flame.

The thing about a fire is that it cannot happen when there is nothing to burn.  I suppose that is why this fire was so ferocious, because it burned the only thing that I had.  You know, you walk outside to see your barn ablaze and though it may hurt financially, you still have something to wrap your arm around during a cold night, someone to wake up to, someone to rebuild that barn for.  When they took her, they took my reasons as well.

I remember the smell, not unlike a night spent out on the flat lands when you have to almost hug your campfire to stay warm.  Mix that with the smell of boiled blood and burnt hair and you will get close. Every now and then I catch a whiff of something similar and I am thrown back into the ashes of our home, the scorched white sundress she was wearing when she said to "hurry back".

It was about midday and I was in town getting a few things for our fixins, flour, bit of sugar, when I saw the smoke coming from our side of the hill.  I took off running, forgetting my horse and everything else.  I just ran.  I think back now and wonder what if I had had the sense to jump on my horse, maybe those godless bastard would have met my hot lead and my bare fist.  There must have been three or four of them, what with the mess of tracks they left.  Unfortunately, for me at least, following them only led to the river where they must have headed downstream for a while because there was nothing else on either side.

By the time I got there, there was not much left of the house other than the smoldering walls and blackened framework.  She was still inside, choked by the smoke and heat.  She was gone before I even arrived.
I buried her quick.  Maybe too quick but she was mine to mourn.  There was a chestnut tree outside the backdoor that used to bloom these tall white columns every spring, the type that seemed to be dancing off the imperfections of the branches and trunk.  The tree put everything to shame when in her prime, making it hard to walk by without stopping for a good gaze.  The sunset even seemed a bit jealous, calling off the vivid reds and oranges for a few weeks to pay tribute to the blossoms. That is where I dug the hole, which in and of itself never seemed deep enough.  I finally had to call it good when the shovel bent on the bedrock.

Her skin was rough and obviously no longer hers.

With fire they took her and with my burning scars will I stoke the flame that is now consuming my core. Whatever love is, whatever love was, is now shocking and relentless.  The blood my heart now pumps is done so on one condition: revenge shall be swift."

-Henry Pickett Pratt

credits

released July 24, 2012

Ty Matsumura- Drums
Jessica Workman- Vocals
Jake Workman- Everything Else

Recording, mixing and mastering by Ben Woolley

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about

The Ghost and the Guest Salt Lake City, Utah

An artistic project blending the lines between music and literature.

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