Biography:
Simon Joyner (born 1971) is an American singer-songwriter. As well as his solo work, he has collaborated with a number of artists including John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats.
Joyner was born in New Orleans, Louisiana, but lived in Omaha, Nebraska most of his life. The geography, mythology, and personal connection to both the South and the Midwest act as shadow characters throughout his large body of work–swallowing some characters, emboldening others, always reminding us that place is much more than mere scenery.
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Em C
that crucial filament is all but spent
Em C
and soon it will be dark in my basement
Em C
my heart is waxing the slick floor again
Em C
hoping i'll slip, and fall in love
Am
well, she gave me the choice
Am C F
to remain and rejoice or to recoil and rebel
C F C F
well, papa, this gravity attack
C F
yeah, it's a gravity attack
G F
and i can't seem to carry, much less bury the past
(same for all verses)
well, your ex-girlfriend said i was a terrible mess
yeah, she's got a real good head on her shoulders
when the singer spoke and confessed
he didn't really smoke cigarettes,
she said her teenage brother smouldered
on a hotbed of coal in a sterile white room
underneath that joy division poster
he moaned papa, he moaned papa,
sometimes i gotta vent my spleen!
sometimes i gotta vent my spleen
when i get shattered in the heart
and scattered in the brain
well, all the medicine in these sermons
still can't keep his brazen nose from turning
and salvation, it may come free of charge
but faith always costs him something
they say there's nothing as sacred
as the blood between brothers
when it's pricked from their thumbs
and exchanged beneath the covers
well, papa, my brother is gone!
yeah, my brother is gone!
so would you tell me now how it is
i'm supposed to get along?
well, you asked for a chorus but you got a refrain
yeah, it's another sad song that moves like a train
you can't whistle to it
but you can fast-forward through it
flick it off your shoulder like dead skin
they say my head on a plate
may curve the debate
about the unbearable high cost of living
but papa, everything falls apart!
everything falls apart
and the grass will grow
as surely as they'll break your heart
that crucial filament is all but spent
Em C
and soon it will be dark in my basement
Em C
my heart is waxing the slick floor again
Em C
hoping i'll slip, and fall in love
Am
well, she gave me the choice
Am C F
to remain and rejoice or to recoil and rebel
C F C F
well, papa, this gravity attack
C F
yeah, it's a gravity attack
G F
and i can't seem to carry, much less bury the past
(same for all verses)
well, your ex-girlfriend said i was a terrible mess
yeah, she's got a real good head on her shoulders
when the singer spoke and confessed
he didn't really smoke cigarettes,
she said her teenage brother smouldered
on a hotbed of coal in a sterile white room
underneath that joy division poster
he moaned papa, he moaned papa,
sometimes i gotta vent my spleen!
sometimes i gotta vent my spleen
when i get shattered in the heart
and scattered in the brain
well, all the medicine in these sermons
still can't keep his brazen nose from turning
and salvation, it may come free of charge
but faith always costs him something
they say there's nothing as sacred
as the blood between brothers
when it's pricked from their thumbs
and exchanged beneath the covers
well, papa, my brother is gone!
yeah, my brother is gone!
so would you tell me now how it is
i'm supposed to get along?
well, you asked for a chorus but you got a refrain
yeah, it's another sad song that moves like a train
you can't whistle to it
but you can fast-forward through it
flick it off your shoulder like dead skin
they say my head on a plate
may curve the debate
about the unbearable high cost of living
but papa, everything falls apart!
everything falls apart
and the grass will grow
as surely as they'll break your heart
Simon Matthew
Simon McBride
Simon Nicol
Simon Norrsveden
Simon Parry