Get all 4 Johnny Coull releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Hagiographies and Hit Pieces, That Cold Year, Songs to Control the Weather by, and City on the Hill.
1. |
Make That Blue Sky Rain
04:09
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The pearl-clad mirage makes her last stand tonight
Upon the tireless ocean, she glitters while she grieves
The mystery is gone, she thinks, into her fate the lover sinks
Until her broken heart’s out on her sleeve
Nylons from the drug store, a perfume of the grave
A cigarette rolls off her tongue and spirits her away
And she says: “Man, I’m gonna be lonely if I can’t,
I’m gonna make that blue sky rain
It’s gonna rain, I’ll make it rain this year away.”
And the trembling vacuum salesman gets his fix on at the open bar
While the angels line up to remove their wings
Skeletal with vacant looks, they stare him down, that open book,
Until his blood flows on to other veins
A funeral procession, if ever there was one
Though who can tell the live ones from the cats already done
And he says: “Man, I’m gonna be holy if I can
I’m gonna make that blue sky rain
It’s gonna rain, I’ll make it rain out there upon the land”
With the darkness, like a savior, on his hands
“Until I make that blue sky rain
It’s gonna rain, I’ll make it rain…”
That lonely masquerader gets all exasperated
While the citizens go crazy: that will be their only debt
They’re crying here tonight, they’re leaving it behind
Until the masquerader’s gonna be loading out
At the last parade, the patron saints of loneliness and vodka-lemonade
Will hand out remedies for drought
Mirage adjusts her halo for one last go at the sailor
Connective tissue forms beneath their brows
They’ll etch their resolutions on the inside of that coffin
“Ain’t ever too late,” one reads, and the other says: “The prophets promised rain…”
Until I make that blue sky rain,
It’s gonna rain, it’s gonna rain
Out there upon the land, with the darkness like a savior on his hands
We’re gonna make that blue sky rain
It’s gonna rain, let’s make it rain
I’ll make it rain
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2. |
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Perpetual motion machines
Aimed at night at the grooving queens
On the streets of Paris
Claimed by the clowns at last
Daisy will try her luck tonight
Falling fast and burning bright
Reborn on silken sheets
Baptized in mustard gas
Daisy will ride the Firestorm
Daisy will ride the storm
Daisy will ride the Firestorm
Tonight
A Cleopatra at eighteen
Her palace is the mirror-house
Inspects her eyes for lines
And other secret signs we cannot know
And as she faintly slips on by
The con men hide their jaded eyes
They’re almost made of dust
Dried up on Ring Toss Row
Daisy will ride the Firestorm
Daisy will ride the storm
Daisy will ride the Firestorm
And as she tilts and whirls
The darkness will go down
As Daisy hears the music end
A sudden blue-red glow alights
Upon the plastic Christ
And Styrofoam fallout
The cops have seized the one-armed male
Nailed him to the Ferris wheel
His one stretched finger points
Right at her through the crowd
Daisy will ride the Firestorm
Daisy will ride the storm
Daisy will ride the Firestorm
And as she tilts and whirls
The darkness will go down
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3. |
Lamb in the Fire
03:14
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The boys all beg
And lose their minds in tandem
As you cut them with that ancient smile
Eyes like teeth
They shout what they imagine
Madmen armed with torches, up on trial
Why don’t you bleed?
Little lamb in the fire
You are wholly exempt, so immune
Why won’t you bleed?
Little lamb in the fire
You will not relent or give in
Sacred and pure
In the whiskey miasmas
That rise from the lips of the dead
Sleepless but calm
Your radio antennas
Tuned only to the laughter in your head
Why won’t you bleed?
Little lamb in the fire
You are wholly exempt, so immune
Why won’t you bleed?
Like a lamb in the fire
But you’ll not relent or give in
Icarus is dead
The midnight air is heavy
The boys stare off into an aimless sea
Why won’t you bleed?
Little lamb in the fire
You are wholly exempt, so immune
Why will you not bleed?
Like a lamb in the fire
Under this wolf-eaten moon
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4. |
Saint Andrew's Fame
04:31
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You wait there by the platform like a shadow
For Andrew to put on his charade:
The teleprompter, grass, his old bravado,
While teenage hearts drop like grenades
He walks on down, emotionless, to greet you
Bombed out on fortified zinc
Carrying a brown bag filled with letters to the brim
Cracking your composure with a wink
You can’t get enough of Saint Andrew’s fame
You cannot hide from his light
He’s got patriots and pills, hotel room deals
And he will be back one of these nights
You can’t get enough of Saint Andrew’s fame
Andrew used to be a failure
Until they let him in the door
All those long hours crawling to you late at night
To a bed he does not use anymore
Your mama warned you this would happen
Confession cannot save the proud
For such a pure, untarnished halo
Now weather-beaten in the clouds
You can’t get enough of Saint Andrew’s fame
You sniff at his rags like a dog
Though he will not get up in the morning no more
He’s just the same
He’s just the same
He’s just the same
He’s just the same
As he ever was
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Johnny Coull Montréal, Québec
Johnny Coull is an independent singer-songwriter based in Montreal, Canada. His debut album, “City on the Hill”, was
released in November 2013.
Firmly entrenched in the vintage rock tradition, Coull tackles intensely personal themes, at once melancholy and incisive, set over punchy melodies, bright choruses, and virtuosic piano licks.
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