1. Swamp Thang
Spencer Kimball and Gary Sears
What does Denvil say?
Be sure to keep the creature away.
2. Down at Denvil Head
Spencer Kimball and Jack Hastings
Going down to Denvil Head to suck ... some juice
Mr. Wrapper said he'd sell me some but ... he's got a rag loose
I'd really swear we're in for a flare, but now ... I'd swear I see the green of pelouse
chorus
I've got to call the voodoo queen
See what she says about this scene
(She'll tell you go just get lost)
I've got to call the voodoo queen
See what she says about this scene
(She'll tell you talk doesn't cost)
Down to that swamp don't get lost
Going down to Denvil Head but who ... knows why
I could say that I'm nervous or bored or just ... want to get high
I really think I could find someone who can fix ... this nasty mental pigsty
3. Little Ollie's Last Picture Show
Jack Hastings
Shadows move across a torn and tattered screen
A hint of red and a flash of green
Little Ollie's bent to turning the crank
Moving film through the clattering machine
The candles flicker and the shadows dance
As Bocephus makes his squeezebox howl
And maybe for a minute there is magic in the air
As the audience screams and shouts
Chorus:
It's a broke-down, half-drowned movie palace dream
Got more cobwebs than curtains and the brass has turned green
It ain't got no popcorn and it ain't got no soda
Got Frankie's fried crawdads
and some moonshine that will roll you
Still a glint of gilt and a hint of velvet red
Keeps the people coming from the Denvil Head
Keeps the folks coming from the Denvil Head
Coming from the Denvil Head
Little Ollie's spinning that crank so hard
He's afraid his heart will give out
But he can't stop 'til the reel is done
That's the bargain he made and there's no room for doubt
T'was the Son of the Shadow that appeared to him
One night in a fearsome dream
And he promised Little Ollie he could have magic
By the light of the silver screen
Chorus
4. Oxygen
William Fuller and Spencer Kimball
Perhaps it would be prudent
To remember of that night
How the oxygen went missing
When we finished with our fight
The right the wrong the same old song
The echoes of a dream
That ricocheted off bedroom walls
And then turned into screams
Chorus:
I smiled with pride in how right I was
When you finally turned to leave
I forgot that no one's still standing
When there isn't any air left to breathe
Soak in the warmth from the sun
Sit on my royal porch berth
Who decides what's fair and who won
In a sea of soiled scorched earth
Footprints in the dirt prove you walked away
A worrisome soul wishes you'd stayed
A moment that happens and then starts to fade
And is gone and then is too late
Chorus
Bridge:
I gasped when I saw what happened
I hurt as I think what I've done
I try to take in some fresh air
But I can't seem to fill up my lungs
A man left staring in the distance
A woman left staring at the stars
Two hearts in a changing landscape
In a vacuum filled with scars
Chorus
5. Don't Get Your Panties in a Bunch
William Fuller and Jack Hastings
Feel that low deep beat as it's a-poundin'
Hear that high lonesome moan turn to a wail
Now is the time for prayer and sanctifyin'
Pull up the anchor, set the sails
You've known the folly and the wisdom
Hear that song; take that chance
Makes no sense, no comprehension
Keep movin' on, don't stop the dance
Don't get your panties in a bunch
Don't get your panties in a bunch
Though it feels like a third-rate sucker punch
Don't get your panties in a bunch
Chorus:
If your story takes a wrong turn
And your poem does not rhyme
If your grapes decide to shrivel
Instead of turning into wine
When the meaning ends up missing
Will you accept the sweet caress?
Will you swim into the waters
Of an azure endlessness?
Let's ride the terraplane to freedom
Or maybe catch that mystery train
Don't be afraid those clouds are forming
You're gonna feel that cool soft rain
If you can't keep your toe a tappin'
If there's no swing left in your walk
When all the hounds have you surrounded
With all their worthless talk talk talk
Don't get your panties in a bunch
Don't get your panties in a bunch
Life might try to squeeze you dry like a sponge
But don't get your panties in a bunch
Chorus
Bridge:
Acting on the wild hunch, stopping for the naked lunch
Craving for the wicked touch, suddenly you hear too much
Teeth all shattered with a crunch, feeling like you took a punch
Don't get your panties in a bunch
Don't get your panties in a bunch
Though your lover tells you to just shut up
Don't get your panties in a bunch
See the dawn as it comes calling
Dance the watusi and the stroll
Hear your heartbeat's joyful pounding
Feel that slip'ry rhythm move your soul
Chorus
6. Adrift in the Devil's Garden
William Fuller and Gary Sears
Rain comes down through the rafters
So I take a walk outside
Amidst the blackthorn and rose
There's a flash and I try to hide
Huddled on a high mound watching
For the things that don't look right
But the rain only pounds me harder
As the twilight turns into night
Chorus:
Given the choice of redemption
Waiting to take a stand
Adrift in the devil's garden
Lost in a foreign land
Make my way on a crooked path
With little left to say
Mistakes of the past are scattered
All along the way
A bank swallow flies above
A streak of white and rust
Wanting to fly above my sins
And leave them in the dust
Chorus
Bridge:
Thunderlights on a breaking heart
Oh, to see the way
Oh, to change the monkey mind
How much left to pay?
The blooming flowers of judgement
Fading in their grief
Time has come to face the fire
And fight the unholy thief
Chorus
7. Denvil's Due
Jack Hastings
The sun is on fire and the sea is rising
I can see the cities burning all along the horizon
Looking for shelter but there's no place to go
Jump into the river, get pulled down below
Chorus
If it's the day of judgement
We brought it on ourselves
There ain't no God to save us
Or send us all to Hell
No Messiah coming
To answer our prayers
We feasted on this world
Now it's time to pay the fare
The storm is upon us and now it's here to stay
The clouds are spinning 'round like a crossfire hurricane
Maybe there's a Noah to save the chosen few
But that don't mean nothin', what's the rest of us to do?
Green lightning flashing in a purple velvet sky
Time to dance to the thunder, the hue and the cry
Something's rising up from way down below
It might be Leviathan, to reap what he's sown
(Repeat Chorus)
Bridge
The princes are safe in the palace
The king and queen will be spared
But the witches and the fools
And the wise men in their schools
Will face the rack and the snare
The old gods are stirring in the deep primeval sea
The cyclone and the maelstrom are waiting for me
The hurricane sings to the swirling typhoon
The world is dying but it's much too soon
8. The Prophet Sees
Jack Hastings
Colored smoke rising from Frankie's
There's iridescence in the air
The Denvil Head is stirring
All of you now better prepare
When Denvil speaks we all listen
Though his prophecies are quite unclear
But when he tells us that trouble is coming
We all feel a cold stab of fear
Chorus:
Sometimes he moans and sometimes he sings
And sometimes he whispers your name
And as your eyes roll back in your head
You can feel Babalú Ayé's rage
Living a life on the razor's edge
Is bloody often as not
And one close shave might be your last
As you face the Gordian Knot
But we all stand together
And face the future unhinged
'Cause the only way to come to terms
Is on a three-day binge
Repeat Chorus
Denvil Head - The Backstory
Well, you know it was sometime after the sun flared and the seas rose. The Sun stuck out a big old tongue of burning plasma to lick against the world and fried every satellite and circuit - and civilization in the bargain. And then, as if the Earth and the Sun were in league to end this scourge of Mankind, the icecaps returned to the sea that made them in a matter of weeks.
Now it's hard to credit, but somehow, some way, before all that merde hit the fan, a motley bunch of raggedy scraggly swamp-rats, Cajuns, outlaws, mutants, etc. that lived so deep in the bayou they was all but lost to the world anyways, managed to get every rickety shack, shanty and FEMA trailer up on big old poles with walkways strung between them and ladders and ropes down to their pirogues and floating what-nots, such that they were spared the worst of the Flood. They were already far off the grid and a mess of Luddites to boot so when the Flare put an end to the Information Age, they gave it nary a second glance.
They call the place Denvil Head because in Frankie's Sky-High Lounge, there is, prominently placed, the complete and entire corpse of Denvil De Le Croix, stuffed and preserved by the taxidermic talents of Roadkill Robespierre. Denvil, that poor child with his grotesque and outsized head, was the first and only casualty of the general catastrophe and was thus bestowed with this singular honor. Once in a great while he will speak to deliver cryptic portents and warnings.
Now Frankie was a beauty but there was a sadness to her as she would never get to go all the way to being a full-fledged lady what with all them doctors getting washed away and such. But she was a Lady nonetheless; and had the class and the ass to prove it.
And I suppose you are curious about some of the other denizens of this stubborn outpost. There is the Wrapped Man, all in brand new bandages every day though no one knew who does the wrapping. Some called him the Invisible Man and some called him the Mummy but he never said a word about it. And he got along just fine - sometimes on four limbs, sometimes on three and occasionally just the two but never any eyeholes, mouth hole or nose holes or any other holes for that matter. A man of mystery, he was.
And of course there was Francois, the last of the Jumping Frenchmen of Maine, who, it was said, leaped across the sky from Maine to Louisiana in 16 hours. But that was long ago and now he can barely get his ass up to refill his glass of 'shine. Speaking of moonshine, that is supplied by Papa Pajama who has established a still in a raised-up, glass-bottom boat.
And "Little Gyp" Gepetto Francoleone who to all appearances is a drooling 10-year-old inbred in filthy overalls but has a tuxedo-clad dummy on his arm as smooth in speech and manner as Cary Grant.
Other items of interest: Tourmaline the Voodoo Queen runs the show and protects the town through various spells and the occasional zombie. Laurence the Lightning Collector provides occasional power from his array of lightning rods and antique batteries. When he's got some power to spare, the whole town gathers to listen to Zydeco on an old Walkman. The water is a toxic soup from all the chemicals that got mixed in from the petro plants and oil rigs. It teems with all manner of dangerous, mutant creatures; some right out of H.P. Lovecraft. Supplies reach the town through the efforts of Ophelia Earheart and her see-through blimp as well as the occasional flatboat. A manatee lives in one of the shacks and provides services of a very special and intimate kind to the town's men, women and everything in between and beyond.
Such is life in Denvil Head.