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Nathan Willard 586BC - I’ve had numerous people ask me what song this is when they hear it - this is the one, and all the others are great as well.
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I remember with teary eyes when we were children and our parents were alive In September go for a drive Back tomorrow night Working under a friendly sun Talking it over as we went along And the old folks had known no fear in all their lives I cried when I saw the new foundations in the ground Because I remember the house that burned down I remember the way it stood The roaring fires The pots and pans and the food And the dancing, singing and shouting all through the night And the ceiling there up above I remember first meeting You in there, and I dare say I was in love And I still am I cried when I saw the new foundations in the ground Because I remember the house that burned down
Flashback 00:06
I think I was a good man at first, but really I can't be sure Because I know I been bad many years when I first realised I wasn't a good man anymore Doing my duty for God and everybody, getting sick and tired of the score My gut said you've got to look out for number one. No one else is going to pick you up off the floor So we forgot about God and followed self interest. The more self interested man wanted more Everything that wasn't mine I wanted to buy, and took loans on the things that I couldn't afford Nobody wants to be a pawn in the chess set. Nobody wants to be a toy in the store Every man a king and every woman his mistress. Every man a tyrant every woman his whore O Egyptian Horses Bring them north to me O expensive watches And the gold in my yellow teeth Everything's for sale and everyone is open for business, and that's the law of the land My house is big and my heart is empty. My soul's held together with elastic bands All the women of the world were my oyster, picking them apart with my eyes and my hand This place knows no brother or sister - only encounters for a woman and man And children become an inconvenience... a by-product... flies in the jam I lost count, lost sleep, lost interets. I even got rid of Sally and Dan in the fire O Egyptian horses Bring them from the south Women of the nations Bring them to my mouth The economy will save us. The economy is strong The nations all around us Got currencies of straw
In the Well 04:02
This here town's going bad from the inside Wake up, our time has come Everywhere's crawling with kids going senile Wake up, our time has come All these religious got nothing left to say Wake up, our time has come And all the politicians don't care either way Wake up, our time has come But we couldn't bare to look into their weary faces Draging like a ball and chain in the sand We couldn't bear to face all the consiquences So we took them by the feet and the hands [saying] "Throw him in the well!" Nobody wants to be a one way passenger Wake up, our time has come Nobody thinks twice about shooting the messenger Wake up, our time has come Haggard and weary, the prophets of the era Wake up, our time has come The age of consiquence is here Wake up, our time has come But they wouldn't dare believe that our words were loaded Spitting in our faces saying "I'll be damned" They couldn't bear to think that the dream was over So they took us by the feet and the hands [saying] "Throw him in the well!"
O LORD! The house is on fire! The taps ain’t working and the river’s gone dry O LORD, their burning it down Sacred walls are hitting the ground O my, o my! Looks like we finally got our time Zedekiah was wrong and Jeremih was right, but we were all kidding round through the night O me, o me! I didn't think He'd seriously Bring these savages to these streets and burn His own house like a dead old tree. O LORD! The house is on fire! The taps ain’t working and the river’s gone dry O LORD, their burning it down Sacred walls are hitting the ground O my LORD! Won't you come here quick and do a miracle or something? Surely you can't just stand there and watch while they burn your house to smoke and dust O LORD please! Won't you make it rain or make them disapear? Part the ocean and bring it over here. We thought you were kidding us all these years. O LORD! The house is on fire! The taps ain’t working and the river’s gone dry O LORD, their burning it down Sacred walls are hitting the ground I know I've fallen and I haven't been hanging round here at all When everyrthing was fine I was standing far off, now its on fire I've got my head in the dust I know it says that you don't come here with empty hands But the river's gone dry and for all my sins I guess this really is where it ends O LORD! The house is on fire! The taps ain’t working and the river’s gone dry O LORD, their burning it down Sacred walls are hitting the ground
586BC 01:45
Seven seals are decreed until the final blizzard, but I was Looking the other way when the bombshell hit us The trees were felled and the buildings were scissored So we ran like hell for the hills while the bell ringers rang their bells The avalanches fell and covered all the fields The city was rubble and the babies all squealed And the stars fell down from the sky like the last handful of a dead man’s pills Reflected in his widow’s eyes From a distance we watched the city die Her eyes were filled and the weeping began, “let me not be stilled” she said “Let me cry. Let my tears be endless. Don’t try to pacify me with television drink and anti-depressants.” For seventy years, most of us were slaves to our killers and oppressors Some of us ran away to die in the desert Some of us stayed and became homeless crazies Somebody rolled me over in the middle of a hangover and said to me “Wake up drinker! Your bottle is empty And all the off-licences have been ram raided” Those days hit me like a cancer or like a terrible car accident We thought we were safe, and we weren’t We thought we were rich, and we were, but now that means nothing So go tell your children and all your children’s children, so they can tell their children Write it in a book and send it to the four corners of the earth So even the goyim can read about Him
Travelling All washed up Feet to feet Every face stone cold Silently Gone like litter on the breeze. And who could tell? Our thoughts are with the prophets lost down the wells And if its true that we never believed in hell We knew that every action has its ends MARCHING! MARCHING! Where you don’t want to go… But what’s done is done And we can never bring back what is gone And we can never turn back what’s to come And I can never make it right my son But don’t give out Keep your little head down to the plough And if you come to find that we’re not around You can still find your way back home DANCING! DANCING! Where you don’t want to go…
Broken Men 04:01
As the days turned from weeks into months We learned the language and wept for our sons Replaced the bandage every setting sun But we didn't know what to say So for a while we suffered in silence Each of us too ashamed to talk about the featureless wasteland where we used to have penises Until one night on a wednesday evening A few of us sat around quietly drinking The laughter soon gave way to weeping The Spirit drew down on our meeting till each man had his say And as the dawn broke And the blue bird spoke We sat in the sunrise and had a smoke Broken men with a glimmer of hope The first Babylonian Eunuch's support group Broken men They can never return what they've taken from us Broken men They can never tough what we've got in our guts Like a dead old tree Or a hollow log A freak of civilisation that doesn't belong Like a sheep with its wool shorn off lined up quietly outside the slaughterhouse No one looks us in the eyes We say nothing and no one cries Disregarded with the concubines Broken bodies and broken lives Like a desecration of a holy place A violation of a sacred space May as well've cut off my face and hung me out to dry But I defy you flesh and blood and snake I can't deny where I know you've been You may take what you may take but the devil can't have what won't be given Broken men They can never return what they've taken from us Broken men They can never tough what we've got in our guts Broken men We can never take back what those monsters stole Broken men They can never lay hands on your heart and soul
Exiles 06:02
In my thirtieth year I was washed up and dry So I made my way down to the river to cry I watched my tears swim off down the stream Carved my initials into the trunk of a tree Then I dreamed with my eyes wide open and my shaking knees I saw a great legion of wheels with eyes And four faced creatures were hanging in the sky I fell with my face to the ground, terrified O for His Glory that I saw in the sky Then He speaks "Stand on your feet son and listen to me..." "I am the LORD, the holy one" In the great Babylonian assembly My three friends wouldn't bow the knee They said if God didn't save them they'd prefer to die Than bow to the fantasies of any mans mind Wood on the fire! They threw in my friends to watch them burn and die The king stood up choking on his champagne There were four men walking in the middle of the flames My three friends walked out unhurt They were burned once before and now there's nothing left to burn The king bowed and prayed And slowly his kingdom was burned away
Put on your new dress darling You look beautiful Put on your backpacks children We're going home And if you still got oil in your lamps Burn it And if you still got strength left in your hands...
And when we built it we all knew that this house we'd built with all our hands was sure to fall down too But its beautiful And it points to something true So we built it strong and tall And we prayed when the Messiah comes that He'd teach within its walls just before the last sacrifice is set on fire


A musical cousin to 2008′s ‘The Pillar of Smoke’, the post-folk ‘Exiles’ tells the story of the nation of Israel’s Babylonian exile in the year 586BC, implicitly drawing comparisons to modern-day experiences of a lost nationhood. Reissued from Zang Productions, it’s by turns tragic, comedic and courageously hopeful, it meanders through folk, jazz and pop, all with the misty colour of a faded photograph.

‘Exiles’ opens properly with ‘I Remember the House (Pt. 1)’, seemingly the most conventional song Benjamin Blower has penned for some time – until it shifts into a wholly unexpected cascade of 8-bit keyboards. It’s movements like this that make it clear the album is a break with the no-frills aesthetic of his ‘Army of the Broken Hearted’ work. Blower once again explores the boundaries of his sound, and unearths a narrative voice that beckons you to sit around the fire and immerse yourself in a unique historical tale.


released October 22, 2012

All songs written and produced by David Benjamin Blower
© David Benjamin Blower 2012


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David Benjamin Blower Birmingham, UK

David Benjamin Blower: 6-string writer, poet, theologian and podcaster from Birmingham in the UK.

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