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Fables Fables lyrical companion


Evan SulaSula-Goff Writing for

8stops7 Š 2011 all rights reserved



Chapter one


The Sting ...Keep those hands in my sight, face up and open wide, naked and exposed, undressing every li(e)ne. Those hands read like sin and murders of neglect; of lying through your teeth to suffocate the dead. My friend you’ve been an angry child‌My patience is indefinite. Tonight we wait until it all comes out. We came across this trail of blood and these casualties of war, the footprints of a life intent on keeping score.


I’ve been studying your tongue(and) in the words you comprehend, I am not afraid, ‘Don’t fuck with me again.’ My friend you’ve been an angry child…Come spend a little time with me Tonight we wait until all comes out. Tonight I swear I will wipe that stupid grin right off your mouth. So raise your iron fists. Lift those loaded lungs. Bring those hammers down. I’m having so much fun…



Chapter two


The Puppet She shows up and you change your tune. She bunks up in your drawing room. She takes all of your big ideas and uses them to fuck with you. Stop calling it a weakness. You’re no puppet and she’s no princess. She shows up and it’s not simple. If she loves you it should be simple. It shouldn’t take a miracle. If she loves you, it should be simple. Stop calling it a weakness. ‘Parasite…’ ‘Pushover…’ You’re no puppet and she’s no princess. Who keeps pulling up on your strings; keeps moving the weight of your tongue; keeps letting your arms just flail while your legs lay down helpless and stunned; keeps knocking upon your door; keeps whispering in your ear?


You say you’ve heard these words before… I see no victims here.


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Chapter three

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The Red Ant It’s getting cold in Pennsylvania; all the cameras and elevators, and you’ve got me drying off in hotel lobbies. Brother, I think you need another hobby. Some things you just don’t forget like, racing my accomplices. 4am and down and the stairs, sirens ringing through the air. We congregate and fill the room. Rabid whispers on the move. No one quite sure what to do, but fingers will be flying soon. I believe you and I should be okay, but we should probably pack our bags just in case. ‘They send out the dogs for people like us.’ Wrong time of year for New Orleans; for coffee cups and limousines. We stood toe to toe on Bourbon Street. Brother that Hurricane is a selfish, a selfish drink.

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They say, ‘You boys should get in line. Troubled deeds breed troubled minds. There’s a reason for those warning signs. Folks roun’ here start breathing fire. And fortune never wastes it’s time on magnets for the worst advice.’ I’m in my mother’s prayers tonight, can feel the angels by my side. I believe you and I should be okay, but we should probably pack our bags just in case. ‘They send out the dogs for people like us.’ And I believe we should cut our loss before lines get crossed and this dirty work catches up to us. ‘They send out the dogs for people like us.’

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Chapter four

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The Heir Welcome to the dance, the silence of skin and bones colliding. Ahh…’love’. Waking up the dead and moving the listless. Arms, limbs come alive like they were vestiges of a dying language that we accepted forfeit before you both were born. Now what has turned up missing; what the dead took with it…No one here really knows how bad for sure. We simply didn’t see the need. There was no connection ‘All agreed?’ Don’t worry your mind so. This has got nothing to do with… Welcome to the dance, it’s a fragile sway. Back and forth together, now separate. Those who came - 16 -

before us and used our names for ransom…No one left here among us can really know for sure. We simply didn’t see the need. There was no connection ‘All agreed?’ Don’t worry your mind so. This has got nothing to do with you. It was just beneath our second skin and it fused onto our skeleton. But, don’t worry your mind so…

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Chapter five

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The Albatross They said all would be 'forgiven,' when we found ourselves back home. There'd be rest here for the wicked, but 'we pray God, that part of you is gone.' She's been sleeping medicated. I've got the television on something dumbed down and sedated, just so I don't have to be alone... This is what we get for trying to be heroes, dragging (our) silhouettes across the floor. The curtains draw back, she barely whispers, 'Everything is different.'

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We all have big ideas, and with our hearts upon our sleeves we bring them out into the open hoping the world will see what it is we see... And we run through water to lose our shadows...

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Chapter six

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The 22 38 My finger skips the page, this masquerade; my guilty pleasure. I keep spilling over headlines. This one catches my good eye...

Correspondence stops and congregations form on paper and glass with plastic remorse. We should anticipate to walk away with full disclosure, transparent and hovering over all our friends and family...

And we take our leave from this violent shore to retrace our steps and lay down our oars. And we all get high Yes, we all get high Take our lead from ghosts We walk side by side You just wait...

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Herein lies the ruse; the wretched cliche, nothing ever seems to change. We hold nothing back to stop ourselves from being tethered to this world. And we all get high Yes, we all get high And I hand you yours And you hand me mine You just wait...

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Chapter seven

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The Seed

So throw your hands up And clench your fists, ‘love’ If it’s complicated Be complicated Don’t make it easy It’s never easy Don’t try to explain it I know, it’s complicated But…if you need it now We can stop the voices Needles through the stereo Sing…like you need it now She takes her picture of… From here we watched the ball drop And the march of crows and men I want to disconnect with you But baby we belong with them - 28 -

We… still live in a cold, cold world are all prone to freezer burn You can’t deny it, but There’s people trying And I need you so So I know there’s hope for me She takes a picture of her captive audience And says, ‘This one’s bout to come alive.’ We burned our eyes Waiting…for a bus…or even a train Any safe passage In the wake of the storm. I tried to catch water on the tip of my tongue. She was horrified. She saw in each drop, a poison seed, And now in me there was poison as well. She ran and the chaos surrounded her like a shield, Like a wall.

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Chapter eight

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The Mark It was a false sense of security. It was a hard line not to take. But in the face of certain mutiny, it was an easy thing to say. Keep placing bandages on our severed limbs. These damns will break and drown out the sounds of promises… ‘Safe for now, you rest easy, you are safe for now. Spread your seeds on the fields of our future affair with fertile ground. We have reasons to expect this Temporary Fix to outlive all our kids. So rest easy, you are safe for now.’ And for these self-inflicted injuries every one of us will wear all the scars of our lost century through another century of repair. We will lock our doors from this day forward. Surely things have changed in my neighborhood…

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I put my ears to the floor as these boards crack and splinter, spread and make room for what’s bubbling below. I consider my part in these walls that have risen to protect us from things that were ours to control. control We always come back, we always return, and we reunite with our broken worlds. Too soon we are to forgive and too soon to forget, until it shoves us in a corner and swings and connects‌

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Chapter nine

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The Patriot This feels like abandon, sent away for the winter, in the care of a transient. Like cats chasing flash lights, they’re moving us, ‘forward and along.’ So I catch a ride into the city where I cried for my country, all lined up red, white, and blue. This feels familiar and I need something familiar to do…

‘When it starts to snow in Beverly Hills, would you please put in a good word for me? Out here I’m sure they want somebody else. So, would you please put in a good word for me.’ How I wish that you could see me out here with the pretenders. ‘No, it isn’t funny.’ That’s because it - 36 -

is… ‘Would you send me a memory? Match my bad evening. Send me your notions of a dramedy.’

It’s not s’posed to snow But, what do I know?

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Chapter ten ten

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The Moth These four walls feel Like a tomb I am out of focus I am out of view… I don’t need to hear you say that it’s gonna be. It’s not gonna be. Like I’m just waiting hear for words. I don’t really care to know that you think it is. I is.. don’t think it is Will you please leave and let me hurt, like it’s supposed to hurt.

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My mind’s a dried out Reservoir My shell lies listless Across the floor‌ Backlit. Shaded. She spins around to face me Bundled. Burdened. A Moth in broad daylight.

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Fables lyrical companion  

A lyrical companion to Fables, the new record from 8stops7. Available everywhere now.

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