Get all 10 Sean McMahon releases available on Bandcamp and save 15%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of The Lamb & The Wolf, Our Father: Original Christian Songs Vol. I, Amazing Grace: Traditional Hymns Vol. I, That's How I Got To Memphis, O I Long To Feel Your Arms Around Me, Wheels Within Wheels (Rory Gallagher), The Way (Slow Train Tour Limited Edition), Williamsburg Bridge (live @ Prospect Park), and 2 more.
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If I blind my eyes to my love, I cannot protect you with my hate. Maybe you are the Adversary and The Friend. And if I am at war with myself, and I am trampling down each border between us — well in that case, I may become extinct like a dead nation. And so, you would then conquer yourself. And when our flag is billowing over nobody — when that day comes, I won’t know where to begin. Maybe you are the Adversary and The Friend.
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Varmit
03:12
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I’ll cut your throat if you’ll squeeze mine. I’ll shake your hand. Butterflies will fly out from our union, and they’ll see what we have shown. I ain’t asking about violations or how to stop. I’m bored to death, but now I’m not. So go refresh your mind on your broken soul. This country lane is stretched and older than the execution that removed your head. We ain’t on no diamond rainbow road, it’s just crust and mold that makes you think and do as told. But you’re so well-prepared that your destitute of all the words that could help the truth to blossom out from within you. We’d do anything to be near you! But you can’t see what you’re being shown. Yea, you’re just some asshole’s food, and you’re out of the loop with the shape of the droop of your own head swooping down. And you’re out of your mind because it’s running on time, and the fuel’s eaten up and there’s a clog in the line. So you tap the glass on your broken watch, and hope that what you are is all that you are — and it may not be enough, but it could keep the vomit down. Yea, the going could get rough, but you can’t keep this damn varmit down. I’ll cut your throat if you’ll squeeze mine. I’ll shake your hand. Butterflies will fly out from our union, and they’ll see what we have shown.
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3. |
Jesse Winters
04:09
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Jesse Winters found himself alone at 12 o’clock. It occurred to him slowly that loneliness is a path he’d rather not walk. “Poor, poor Jesse,” he told himself, “he’s on his hands and knees! He’s got no pride!” Preparing a letter addressed to the friends and the foes that he happened to have known, he scrawled in ink what was torn in his heart: his tormented feelings and his woes. “Poor, poor Jesse,” he told himself, “He’s on his hands and knees! He’s got no pride! Ah!” He picked up a rifle, then he stuffed an envelope with his letter to world, and tied his boots with the laces that he once used to hang himself, but broke. “Poor, poor Jesse,” he told himself as he loaded up his ammunition. He dropped his letter then he started shooting at the sky in the city square. And as they dragged him away, he told them about the letter — to read it out loud at the fair. It said: “My name’s Jesse. I’m angry at God, I ain’t ashamed to say. And so at noon, I’m gonna shoot Him down from his throne in the sky in the middle of the day. And when He falls down from the earth, my friends, we’re gonna have a trial — for each and every tragedy and genocide and every single problem He has made. I’m hoping He’ll apologize. Do you think He’ll apologize? I don’t know. But I hope so. — Jesse Winters.”
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4. |
Eden
02:42
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If indeed you are listening, why don’t you raise your hand? Show me what you’re feeling. Show me how you feel. I’m drowning in this country trying to get to the Promised Land. For I am offering water as we stand on this scorching sand. And I wanna find my brothers, and gather all my sisters. For we were dead on arrival, awaiting a calling voice or a hand. Well, if you would be the living, then you would let go your life. And listen to its voice. Pass along its song. I ain’t alone in this aching darkness. I’m staying warm in your light. If indeed you are listening, why don’t you raise your hand? Show me what you’re feeling. Show me how you feel. I’m drowning in this country trying to get to the Promised Land. I am waiting in a station for the train to take me home. And my friends, you’re all beside me. And I want to take you with me. The engine’s getting louder, so it must be time for us to go. So let us head home back to Eden. Forward is the way. And if we carry all the wounded, and stay pure as little children, then we will get through this night of darkness and be home by the break of day.
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5. |
No, It's Not
04:41
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I spilled my colors onto the floor like a newborn babe unto the earth. I thought that it was righteous, but no, it’s not. I watched your fingers dancing on my guitar. I watched the empires rise and fall. I watched as daggers rained down from the clouds. I watched your fingers dancing on my guitar. I spilled my colors onto the floor like a newborn babe unto the earth. I thought that it was righteous, but no, it’s not. I gave you apples from our old tree. I gave you wisdom under the sun. I gave you something that we could not see. I gave you You, and to me, you gave Me. I spilled my colors onto the floor like a newborn babe unto the earth. I thought that it was righteous, but no, it’s not. I laughed at my footprints swimming away. I laughed at preachers with nothing to say. I laughed with all the dead men ’til they were all out of breath. I laughed at my body for being made of flesh. I spilled my colors onto the floor like a newborn babe unto the earth. I thought that it was righteous, but no, it’s not. And I thought that a dream was never coming true. And I thought it was strange that Me, instead, is You. I thought that oceans only waved when I looked their way. And I thought that Jesus Christ was dead, but I touched His wounds and I saw His face. I spilled my colors onto the floor like a newborn babe unto the earth. I thought that it was righteous, but no, it’s not.
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6. |
Patient Like A Lamb
03:01
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I will sing of all the things I wish I could see in the world: a real idea, something new that hasn’t been done before; a brotherhood staked on the hearts of the people’s goodness; a spiritual force that don’t need no rules to make it worthless and dead. An isle redeemed, stable and free. Patient like a lamb. I will sing of all the things I wish I could see in the world: a new idea, a way of being that ain’t misunderstood; a faithful heart that need not be given, or taken, or taught, or unlearned; a candlelight at night that never darkens and always burns. And I think that I’ve seen such things in my dreams. So it must not be too far. So I’ll be patient like a lamb.
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7. |
Struck From The Page
01:36
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You're bulging and disgusting. Cropped out of my frame. You're counting rings on my woodcut so you can keep track of all my pain. And you wanna call me liar, but you know that's what I am called. And you can't stand to say my name, you look past my eyes into the wall. You've been avoiding me all the weekdays, and now come the day of rest, you've come to tell me something -- well I'm already unimpressed. This day is no longer holy. The ink's faded from the page that called you to be friendly, that condemned your stupid rage. My pain is on a canvas and you took a photograph to chew on in your mouth, to digest and then pass. Well I am not like Jesus, and I am not very kind. I much prefer to push aside undesirables in my life. So with a sharpened blade and with a broken heart, I will command your image to darken and then fade from my art. And there will be no living memory when you are cropped from the frame, for I am etched into a woodcut -- but you are struck from the page.
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8. |
Shame
06:01
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In all I’ve lost, what should I have retained? How am I not much better off this time around? Look at all I’ve done. Look at all that pain! Look at me, o look at everything, o soul of mine. I hear all the voices telling me, “It’ll always be the same.” Crooked ways they push my body through: crooked voices, crooked aim. Shame, shame, shame, tell me your sweet story now and I’ll surely pay the price with my pain, with my pain. Pain, pain, pain, you and my everlasting love are gonna bleed together now, writing my name, writing my name, writing my name. I know you’ve waited so long to walk along the wounded way, to find a secret you can make me stumble on. But I stumble so well, I can make it look like dancing, always leaving things to chance and no one else. Well that’s the dream we’re dreaming in our heads, it’s so dense, and it’s so strange. But that’s the way our bleeding wounds do heal. We’ll come out perfect through the pain. Shame, shame, shame, tell me your sweet story now and I’ll surely pay the price with my pain, with my pain. Pain, pain, pain, you and my everlasting love are gonna bleed together now, writing my name, writing my name, writing my name. O Holy Ghost, I tried to teach you right and wrong. Tried to keep you in a stack of books and lies. But now I see what I now see: see you looking through my eyes at everything, have a look around. Heaven and the stars all tumbled down, learned to die, then I arose. Beauty in a dream that looks like me lives within me — I’m her clothes. Shame, shame, shame, tell me your sweet story now and I’ll surely pay the price with my pain, with my pain. Pain, pain, pain, you and my everlasting love are gonna bleed together now, writing my name, writing my name, writing my name.
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9. |
Some Bones
05:43
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In your heart there is a cemetery filled with graves, filled with memories. Your soul is a cup filled with anxieties, filled with anxieties. Your love is a well. Anyone can drink, anyone can drink. Well some -- some, some they say -- some bones are not yet dry. I know I've seen them walking, so I know that they're still, still alive. Why, o why? In New York there was an ambulance. The sirens wailed a song of circumstance. And a lonesome man listened from within, listened from within. A medic and a friend were the only ones with him, were the only ones with him. Well some -- some, some they say -- some bones are not yet dry. I know I've seen them walking, so I know that they're still, still alive. Why, o why? Into your loneliness, let a lover in. Bare all your sin -- she'll help you carry it. And when you make it to the door, you'll be welcomed in. You'll be welcomed in.
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10. |
The Way
09:12
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Jealous they make me, the sinners and saints. They pray to their gods in their gardens of shame. And worthless the season that bears no good fruit. So truthless, so used, so passed over, nude. Naked on the baked clay of the desert. Chasing pleasures, chasing pain. It's all the same when you can't find your way. No excuses nor pardons, nor saving of face. Beauty is ugliest in the shadows of grace. Naked on the baked clay of the desert. All the trains on their tracks, they're teaching a lesson. Keep your foot off the tracks, let the wheels within wheels go round. Let it take you under the river and across the top of the city. Cross the bridge that God has built out of iron & water. Naked on the baked clay of the desert. So, foolish I follow on Jesus' narrow maze. I'm looking for water to quench my thirst and wash my face, and hoping for a dancer to help me along my way. She'll teach me how to help her without getting in my way. I'm thinking that I'd really like to see her now, naked on the baked clay of the desert. Take all my clothes off! Wash me in the water! Soon will come the wintertime and I'll be on my knees, begging for a blanket or a dream. And while the fall's still warm & crisp I'm dancing in the streets spending all my days on everyone. Lately I've been thinking about Jesus and his cross, the way it seems I'm living with these feelings. Everything so vivid, everything so good. Everything is so fucked up and painful. Bury me in my grave, I know I'm already dead, but I want my pain! I want my pain! Living in the world feels just the same, my spirit's joy is in my pain! I want my pain! That's the way. Who knows what this smile is for? It serves me just the same. Blooms from something beautiful. Now everyone around me is within their little worlds. Everyone within me is around me all the time. And I believe it's perfect 'cause it's so pitiful it's pure -- everyone around me singing "beautiful." Hearing all them singers singing all their songs, their voices light my way and make it simpler. Bury me in my grave, I know I'm already dead, but I want my pain! I want my pain! Living in the world feels just the same, my spirit's joy is in my pain! I want my pain! That's the way.
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Song For When I Am Gone
05:09
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When my life comes to close, I want you to burn all my clothes. Goodness gracious! Nobody knows where my soul is going at the end of the road. When I finally close my eyes, that's alright, everyone dies. Goodness gracious! Heavens don't cry. No one -- not you, not I -- holds onto their lives. Because life is built to end. You get it while you can. Yes, life ain't made to last. But love is made forever, though life may go fast. When I can no longer hold your hand, all that I ask is that you still stand. O! Goodness gracious! I know that you can. I may not be here, but I'll still be your man. Because life is built to end. You get it while you can. Yes, life ain't made to last. But love is made forever, though life may go fast. When I'm no longer here -- when I'm gone -- and everything just seems so wrong, goodness gracious! Don't you wait too long. I am here, my love, I am here, I am singing this song. Because life is built to end. You get it while you can. Yes, life ain't made to last. But love is made forever, though life may go fast.
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Williamsburg Bridge
06:16
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What are you looking for out there? For the groundswell beneath your feet? I wish I knew just what you're thinking, 'cause I don't know what you said. What did you mean that time we viewed together a sacred view from a manmade bridge over a winter sea as it flowed through the veins of a city? What are you reaching for out there, in the starry heart of our two dreams, of our two dreams we dreamed? The wind was kissing both our lips as we held hands so distant, precarious, heads in the clouds. The while we passed with the gray sky overcast and the people with envy passed us by from island to island, from sigh to sigh. Below the river flowed and the bridge did bow toward Williamsburg with a furrowed brow. And the dreams of two lovers nearby, it overheard as a song somehow. And it wanted with sweet intent to conceive and give birth without knowing how. So it scratched its head and it asked for peace from a fleeting word that's gone quiet now. What were you praying for last night when the chains came off of your wrists in your bed? I dreamt we crossed that dark frontier up ahead. And I love you, so I held your hand and we went ahead.
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Mighty Jim was stubborn and needless of a lover so he put into his head an idea that was made of lead. And the neighbors heard a bang as he sang his song of love, but they knew not what kind of love he was singing of. And his mother cried completely when she came into the kitchen. She crawled to his hand, and she kissed her one son's hand. And she hollered out to God, "Is he with you in your land? Are you satisfied with taking all that I had?"
The children of the neighborhood were dazed and bereaved. They watched as they led the mother of their friend away, but then she turned to them to say, "Dear children, play. I swear by God one day I'll be ok."
And they sang to their mother, and they gave her flowers
And they kissed their father, and all of their sisters and their brothers
And they came into a circle to perform a miracle
They danced in the memory of their friend
Mighty Jim, he saw from heaven all that he had done. And he tapped upon God's shoulder, whispered, "Let me see my mother." And he picked up a pair of wings so he could fly on down, and he descended saintly back toward his town. His mother knew him quickly and she threw her arms around. Jim said, "Don't be worried, we are all just short stories." And he looked her in the eye and he said, "Mother, can't you see? Your breathing and you love. That's all you need."
And he sang to his mother, and he gave her flowers
And he kissed his father, and all of his sisters and their brothers
And they came into a circle to perform a miracle
They danced in the memory of their kin
The mother found the children and she took them in her arms. And she blessed them all from harm and that their lives be well and long. But they took her by the hand and they said, "Mother, you can stand. We are only meant to live as long and as well as we can. I hope you understand. I hope that you can."
And they sang to their mother, and they gave her flowers
And they kissed their father, and all of their sisters and their brothers
And they came into a circle to celebrate the miracle
They danced to the music in their skin
The mother, she wept quietly and she lifted up her eyes. And her heart felt lighter, the skies a bit brighter. And she turned to children to say, "Children, play! It's a beautiful day! Everything's ok, everything's ok -- everything in every single way!"
And she sang to her children, and she gave them flowers
And she kissed her lover and all of her sisters and their brothers
And they came into a circle, to proclaim the miracle
They danced to the music that always had been.
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Sean McMahon Massachusetts
singer-songwriter and minister from martha's vineyard
Sean McMahon recommends:
A Promising Flee
by Bird Courage
Brothers from Bushwick.
go to album
Bushwick brothers/sister from NZ.
go to album
Tidwell's Treasure
by Tidwell's Treasure
Hard funky thrash from Western MA.
go to albumIf you like Sean McMahon, you may also like:
Tides of a Teardrop
by Watchhouse (formerly Mandolin Orange)
The forthcoming album from Mandolin Orange blends rustic Americana melodies with aching, orchestral arrangements.
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Meet Me at the River
by Dawn Landes
On “Meet Me By the River,” Dawn Landes’s self-described “Nashville record,” buoyant country melodies settle deep into lush instrumentation.
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In the Key of Grey
by Matt Dorrien
Nilsson and Newman meet in Matt Dorrien’s deeply-felt piano-driven barroom ballads.
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