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Come Find Me When the World Ends

by Dustin Drennen

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Dustin Allen
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Dustin Allen You were the main reason I picked up the guitar 22 years ago. Hearing your voice and guitar now still inspires me. Thank you.
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Yellowed 03:54
Picture me torn up in pieces drowning in ashes and burning with tears I’m the half of this glass already past you lips I’m a photograph faded by years Breath with me in this smokescreen Your eyes like black holes the cold space in between I’m the life that is left in your last cigarette I’m afraid I fear dying more than death Heaven is calling I’m letting it ring The sky might be falling So I’m digging in Standing my ground I’ll admit I’m afraid To die here alone In this hole in the world With another that you left in me Rescue me from this fever my guts are crossed-wires and I’m currently shocked at the length I will go to make my insides explode just to see something ugly come out Wrap me in my favorite blanket lay me in lowlight put me in my bed in the space between dreams slip quietly close to me wearing nothing but the air on your skin I’ve still got fingerprints where your fingertips are missing that is just in case you some need evidence more convincing
I stumbled into town Like a dog with three legs Everybody stared and teased You said you like like a redneck Wearing them boots How’d you like to dance with me We spun all around In the lights and the sound We laughed, and sweat out the drink I took you home And I walked all alone Right down into the sea There are ships and ghosts of ships A man is a vessel just the same We come out of the ground and we drift for a while Then we go down again I spent high desert nights With a choir of dogs Taking turns singing scared names Couldn’t tell the difference Between spirits and stars It was like we were swimming in champagne I sang your name out then And I lost it to the wind She hid it in the rocks and the trees I’ve been drifting for a while I just want to hear your voice I just want to see your face I can still smell you on the breeze
Blackvein 02:49
Were you lonely Did you miss me Were you bored in your grave just thinking about what we could be doing if we were together Cause four lips makes a kiss and I think we’ve got silence to spare Between you and me here at the end of all things I remember a boy He wasn’t such a cripple on the inside You’re a bit bright for these eyes It helps me bleed the ink from my veins     Were you lovely by the lowlight Did you sleep just to dream When I dream I hope I see your face and I hold you just close enough that when our bodies touch our veins bleed each other’s blood Between you and me here at the end of all things I remember a boy He wasn’t such a cripple on the inside You’re a bit bright for these eyes It helps me bleed the ink from my veins What have I got to give I’m not ready to give up thought I was through with this wandering Turns out I’m just tired of this business I’m in Take me with you the next time you go And if you want to go searching I’ll go pack my heart I still haven’t found my home
Outside the wolves, inside the jackals I'm haunted by her words, I'm betrayed by my actions her wounds are bigger walls than I have bombs and she cries bigger tears than I have guns As far as I can tell, backing down is foreign ground to both of us I have never been so useless or alone Down there are flames, out here's silence I never felt that kind of hurt, I think she's just frightened Her skin is thicker steel than I have tools and she's still entangled in their rules We're both pinned down, dead to rights, without a fight, no weapon left to use I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do with these hands The morning is cold, head's a mess of rattlers My spirit flows like toxins, her body's warm beside me But her ghost roams in lines I can't trace I showed up to her heart, found it vacant So we packed up our things, guess we'll wait it out in this empty house, where we learned how to dream Now we can't even find sleep, we turn at night, just like our days in the machine...
If you come knocking at my door I won’t live here no more Just some ghosts And a cold, hard floor If you come knocking at my door And the ghosts sing out… Don’t you go asking where I’ve been They’ll saddle you with laws and bind you with sins They say I’ve painted my skulls, that I spoke with the dead Don’t you go asking where I’ve been And the dead sing out… Don’t try to follow my trail The frozen tracks, the blood & the hair Teeth and bones, They can’t take what I own Don’t try to follow my trail And the blood sings out… If you see a fire at night High on the mountain, with no moon in sight Name me a star And gather your wise If you see a fire at night You can sing out… If you hear a voice in the trees It’s the echo of your spirit caught up in the leaves Forsake your reflection And these earthbound things If you hear a voice in the trees We’ll all sing out…


Making a record and recording some songs are two different things. I record songs all the time: in my kitchen, truck, bathroom, garage; in the woods; in a studio.

Steve Earle once said Townes Van Zandt never made a record. I was surprised to hear him say it, but I agree. Still, the man wrote some damn good songs and I’m glad he recorded them.

Here are some songs, just me and my guitar, recorded in a couple sessions. The circumstances were these: two Sunday afternoons in late summer, woods and mountains, cups of coffee, the unusual conversations between musicians. I was there of course, and presiding over it all was a musician (a guitar player if ever I’ve met one) whose boots I am unfit to tie, or untie, or shine, or even write about for that matter. Needless to say, I’m grateful.


released January 14, 2018

Songs x Dustin Drennen; Recorded somewhere in North Idaho x Bruce Bishop; Mixed @ Audioconfusion in PHX, AZ x Jalipaz Nelson; Mastered x LANDR


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Dustin Drennen Noxon, montana

Songs and poems from western Montana: a little folk and americana, a little Texas country, maybe more cowpunk, clear love of the West, especially the Northwest, an affinity for good beer, some romance and wreckage, some creepy tales, a general distrust for the establishment, a hopeful outlook all the same. ... more

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