Darkland Express part two

by Greg Segal

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1.
03:44
2.
09:26
3.
02:58
4.
02:25
5.
6.
04:57
7.
8.
9.
05:54
10.
11.
12.
13.

about

Please see "Darkland Express part one" for full album notes. Notes for individual tracks are here with each.

credits

released April 29, 2016

Greg Segal played: 6, 12 string and fretless electric guitars; acoustic guitar; 4 and 8-string basses; acoustic and electric drums/percussion; organ; vocals, breathing and whistling; tapes; bowed device; keyboards; piano.

Written 1980- 1992. Recorded at Phantom Airships 2 & 3, and at McKeever Manor with the Airship mobile, 6/91-10/92. Backing track for "Open Letter" recorded with the Guddie remote at the Dogpit, '92. Additional overdubs and mix done in 1996 at Phantom Airship 4, and 4/16 at Phantom Airship 7.

Remixed and remastered April 2016.

All songs written and performed by GS, except:

Demolished: lyrics by Terry Ann Daugherty.

Open Letter From the Author: music, "Toccata and Fugue in Dm- in D Major" by J.S. Bach, arranged (almost beyond recognition) and performed by Dog Neutral; lyrics by GS.

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Greg Segal Portland, Oregon

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Track Name: Demolished
You are life
So strange and cold
You cannot hold my burning soul
You are, you are my life

You are days of madness past
Of midnight tears and future fears
You're never just today

You're the place between the doors
Where my heart lives but never knows
The comfort or the beauty of
My own sweet love
My sweet demolished love

You are life
So strange and cold
You cannot hold my angry soul
You are, you are my life

-Terry Ann Daugherty, 1991
Track Name: Shadow Books
The old couple has a bookstore on the boulevard
I only see it at night around closing time

The old lady has a mouth, she does all the talking
The old man stares from behind the counter
From behind her

He shuffles, grunts, mumbles under his breath
I don't think he likes me
Oh well

I like this store, I have been here before
They've got books you can't find anywhere else

Latest writings by authors long dead
Rare works I was not aware ever existed
(Of course, perhaps, maybe they don't...)

Well they rudely remind me it's closing time
And they want my host eyes to leave
Gotta make a change (can't explain how)
Who am I with now?

She's been working there part time, I think
Overtime on black wet Sundays
Not much of a life
She doesn't miss her time much

There's a small apartment upstairs, around back
They wouldn't rent it out to just anyone
It's rented out to this girl
I'm her shadow tonight
As I have been, it seems, on other nights

She's sensitive, shy and lonely
Getting older, sort of plain
She doesn't like herself very much
Thinks most of her life's been spent in vain

In her quiet dim lit room
The darkness leaks in from outside
From the black humid sky
To the shadows that hover in the corners
All around

Heat that simmers up the smells
Of paint, carpet, old clothes and
All the personal scents inside a dwelling
Like a fingerprint, no two exact but many alike

Tonight again she's sad
She's argued with the old woman
Who is harsh and blunt
A sensitivity flattened and razed
By years of hard living

The old woman doesn't trust her to pay
And has too many rules for her not to break any

The girl is disturbed, upset
Her living space is in jeopardy

She has nowhere else to go
And probably no way to start over again
No one to turn to for help
Her too small apartment and her stressful job
Are all she has

Not true, not totally
She has friends
And at times like this she remembers them

I've seen her party with them before
Amber drink from the bottle
Feel less pain and laugh it off for a while
She's not lonely then, those nights are good
But most nights are like this

You think you're alone but I see you
Your guard comes down and you cry
And I know

Your soul is like this night
A choir of despairing voices
Coming out of the dark

Into your room...into the shadows
Touching and merging with the darkness
In your heart

She likes this place,
And though she hates the old bitch
She'd hate to let it go
A private place where she can be
A person no one knows

Naked walks at midnight
Through the shelves of printed treasure
Sensual, alive at last
Dark solitude and pleasure

The freedom of the unknown place
Depopulated store at night
A place to fully be herself
Free spirit coming up for light

The most light it may ever see
Outside of in her head
Better late at night than never
Better 3 a.m. than dead

Feel I'm slipping- got to go
Hate to leave you crying
But I'm one of those voices on the night
My signal fades, dying

Don't sit alone
If you can, call some friends
Who'll understand and change the mood
To something higher, just to get you by

I like this place
I like you too
It's a sure bet I'll remember you
You both have cheap class
And that's the richest kind there is

And if I get cast this way again
We can looks through the books
And dance naked in the aisles after midnight

Celebrate freedom surrounded by knowledge
Cloaked in mystery and the force of life

I'd like to see you again sometime
Yes maybe I'll see you
Somewhere
Down the line

G.S., 6/20/91
Track Name: Not Me
Who will claw his way to the top
Stepping on other souls
Not me, not me

Who will be the next big thing
The latest sage for sale
Not me, not me

Who will have a lot to show
A lotta respect and a lotta dough
Not me, not me

Don't you see that how you get there
Cheapens who you are
It's not that I care what you might think
But when you're gone I'm still here

Who can win with a heart full of fear
Success demons in your ear
Not me, not me

It will appear the winner takes all
Arrogance before the fall
Not me, not me

You'd drop anchor in a bottomless pool
The last is the first and you are a fool
Not me, not me

G.S., late 92
Track Name: Motifs
Motifs-
Thoughts in the night
Of a cul-de-sac I'd have once called my wife

Is this how legends are born
Annoying persistent
Unwilling to die and be forgotten

This ground looks familiar-
A night town full of dead end streets
It's just a reflection of the same old show
Midnight movie running in my heart
The screen is the empty shadow world

Hinting at ghosts
Silent echoes in my head
Ghosts don't die but some fade with time

Like streetlamps fade at the end of the night
Just before dawn
Making room for new arrivals

Curtains flutter in the dark behind unlit windows
Pale flashes like faces when there's nothing there
Just dust and memories
Shells
Of stillborn infant dreams to keep me company

Over and over again

Some of them look like people I've known
Some of them look like me
Sorrow the trait that links them all
For things that had been or will not come to be

Rumor has it that ghosts can only hurt you
If you let them within
I suppose it's true
But we can't be strong all of the time

On dead nights like these something wells up inside
And I want to shout and wake the living because I know
All you'll ever offer me is dead ends and wrong turns

And I'd spit in your eye or insult you
If I thought it would make a difference
But all I can do is move on
And try never to look back on

Motifs-

Thoughts in the night
Of a cul-de-sac I'd have once called my life

Is this how legends are born
Annoying persistent
Unwilling to die and be forgotten


G.S., 6/12/91
Track Name: Canadian Underground
Underground
In tunnels wet and grey
There is a world apart from light of day

They chased us down here
Can't let them find us first
It's us or them
Let's smash some head, my love

This time we're in the right
Let's put an end to them
And walk home through the night
Past cars and neon mist

Where did you go
Now I'm alone
How did it end? No one's around

Just me alone
Out on the street walking home
Through the night

Past dew soaked cars
The neon mist hangs in the air
Above my head
Above my head
Where did you go?
Where did you go?

G.S., 6/17/91
Track Name: Underworld/L.A. River Rafting/The Exploration/Hidden Life
The exploration
Searching for a secret place
Our own

We played this game as children
We still need it now
Down here wet cement vaults
And muddy shores
A shunned place to make camp

Underneath it all
Beneath the games
On the refuse of others
We find some color
Some rest
And the world goes away for a while.

G.S., late '92
Track Name: Points On A Line
Quick flashes-

Bookstore
Just out of school
Gotta catch a plane
Tan misty sky threatens rain

It's morning and I've just awoke
And I'm not sure where I am
but I think there was a swinger's party here last night
It sounds like it still might be going on

I've got my luggage and I'm off down the hall

I think there's two hours to go before my flight
I hear a sound as I pass a utility closet
So I open it to find

A woman in a tight black leather cocoon
Hanging from the rod by a harness around her chest
Mummified head to toe not a drop of her shows
Hands and feet bound together behind her
Suspended in a hog-tie

She moans and writhes behind the gag and hood
I assume, I hope, in ecstasy
I'm not sure but I think I hear the hum
Of a vibrator somewhere inside of her

I want to play but I don't know who she is
And I don't want to spoil someone else's scene
Besides, I've got a plane to catch

Well...what the hell...
This is a swinger's party, right?

So I set my luggage down, roll up my sleeves
and go to work
Tweaking her nipples through the leather

She moans in surprise and pleasure
(She didn't know I was there)
The action seems to drive her nuts
She must have been horny for hours

I tease her until I come
From hearing her moan and watching her writhe
then I look down at my watch
and realize I'd better get a move on

She's moaning even more now but
I shouldn't make her come
She's not my slave, it wouldn't be right

The torture's much worse when the orgasm's done
And it's not my place to release her

I exit the closet and look both ways
Not another soul around
Shut the door behind me drowning out delicious sound

On the way to the airport my head pounds
Can't remember the wild night before

And suddenly I wonder
Will anyone else remember she is there?
I hope so. Guess I'll never know.

G.S., 6/20-21/91
Track Name: The Time To Be
Sitting near the river as the light expands the day
Raining warmth into my head, I see another way

Water, flowing movement, birds are singing
They are free
Is freedom our illusion
Or just the time to be

Planes and ships and open fields are calling me to stray
Diversions and illusions grant more temporary stay

Could it be the root is there
For all to plainly see
It's not some trip we're looking for
It's just the time to be

Vampiric trivialities pollute the blood of time
Can there be transfusion
Can the two worlds be combined

Why should it take a miracle for all to plainly see
It's not more clocks that people need
It's just the time to be

G.S., 2/89
Track Name: Open Letter From The Author
Hey kids- Greg Segal here!
By now, some of you may be wondering
"Dude, like, like...what's Darkland dude?"
Is it real? Is it a dream?
And the answer is-

Yes.

So now you know-

This is Darkland

A place to hide your head in the sand
While things inside us and around us drift apart

Darkland-

Caught in the works
Lose your blues in the shuffle or watch them grow
Reluctant or happy but pushing that cart

Holes in the sky and the seasons disrupted
Mile after mile of blackened coast

This clockwork world we have superimposed
Is a parasite destined to die with its host

So you may dance on its grave or sing its eulogy
Weep for the past or rot in lethargy
Or say nothing has changed and pretend
Because it may not really matter in the end

Yeah, OK, pardon me for me being overdramatic
I wax philosophic and vent my fears

You've heard it before, it accomplishes nothing
Wordy complaints for your tired ears
But it may be the most I can honestly do
So take it or leave it, that's up to you.
I've said my piece, I'll shut up now
Until something bugs me again

Until then-
Have yourself a merry little doomsday
Play a good game, stay out of that rain
Don't get too much sun
Have as much fun as your schedule permits

And hell, don't take me too seriously,
After all, none of this stuff is real,
Right?

Good morning
Good day
Good night

Pleasant....dreams?

G.S., 7/18-19/91