The Sparrow's Scrapbook

by Burnt Paw

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'Of scenes like these, I say, who writes—whoe'er can write the story?

Of many a score—aye, thousands, north and south, of unwrit heroes, unknown heroisms, incredible, impromptu, first-class desperations— who tells? No history ever—no poem sings, no music sounds, those bravest men of all—those deeds. No formal general's report, nor book in the library, nor column in the paper, embalms the bravest, north or south, east or west. Unnamed, unknown, remain, and still remain, the bravest soldiers'

Walt Whitman, Specimen Days, 'Unnamed Remains The Bravest Soldier'


released April 11, 2016



all rights reserved


Burnt Paw Nottingham, UK

'Burnt Paw'.

Alt folk,
Open Tunings,
& Oral Histories.

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One day I will return
to find shining cliff
cast aside my skin
smeared over with dirt
I’ll swim out in the lake
I'll swim out in the lake
Cotton Town was dead
everything a wreck
I saw a sign
pinned to the door
'would you like to start
a new world?'
come and join the men
who swim out in the lake
what’s a man to do?
smeared over with dirt
clouds of mustard gas
Sunday morning best
women and the men
they swim out in the lake
one day I will return
one day I will return
used guitars you’ll find them here
o my god they've seen it all
sparrow bones and straw
tongues hanging out for any drop of water
in a town that's run completely dry
cigarette burns tattoo of a girl
there’s still hope for them yet
one day they’ll board the train for the delta
visit Charlie Patton’s grave
diabetic twelve string suffragette
cash-converter penitentiary blues
second hand coats dead men’s shoes
hendrix is from the tower block
police cant keep up with his tunings
louise has done time inside
they say she lost her kids
I know there’s still a song in her yet
one day they’ll board the train
visit the grave of Bertha Lee
Sue Rider something’s missing hence price
Track Name: PRAJA
Track Name: TOWERS
born again man shakes a second hand tambourine
he nearly set fire to himself in his sleep
kevin just finished his shift for another week
roll over beethoven scratched out
on simon’s three string guitar
the heart is a tower without walls
two russian boys sit drinking at ten am
they ask if I know any girls
and if so could I please direct them
there is a woman who is known upon this street
flower blue eyes tea cosy assassin hat
her heart is a tower with no key
a worker fell from the scaffolding today
leaving behind another empty space
I ask the cameraman did you know his name?
he says I’m just here to film another empty space
but his heart was a tower of grace
did you know you need a licence for that?
we saw you out in Cotton Town last week
you’re not the best we’ve ever heard
but you played pretty good
did you know the heart is a tower of blood?
here come a child who can speak directly to god
take another drink to be sure
then ask me for a hug
Bernadette’s husband died on this very spot
Danny I remember what you can’t forget
with your hand all bloody and broken you said
death falls like a tower with no words