So, it has been a while since we last updated a lot of our social media outlets, but things are starting to look up for Pillow Talk.
As of recently, we officially have been signed by San Antonio record label Texas Is Funny Records (texasisfunny.com). That being said, we are proud to announce that they will be releasing our debut 7" Faux Fur, which is set to be released this coming September 30th. Details surrounding the show are still being worked out, but we are putting a ton of publicity into this release.
Anyways, just wanted to drop in and fill everyone in on what is going with the band. Until next time, peace!
North up the Pike, where day turns to night--I waited on you there. There in the gloom, 'neath every moon, at least a fortnight. Faces in clouds, cast on the ground in shady little boughs. On came the rain and hid all the day, and soaked me through. My frown was on the ground, and where were you? Was I in love, were you? Tell me, Love, I dare you to. I left you behind and made for the heights on the county's other side. I crossed o'er the bridge at old River Ridge, and passed on by. My pride I put behind, like I did you, and the sole of every shoe, and every mile I walked without you. The breadth of it grew, and the bitterness too, till I knew I hated you for leaving me there. But you didn't care that I loved you then. And the coldness in my heart has all consumed a love that ever bloomed, and a warmth I only knew for you.
There's a patch of sunlight that peeks through on the hillside, that once caught your eye and my likeness inside. But the path we cut that day in the rough is all covered up, like it never was. And the breeze on the air cut a jig in your hair. I remember you there, but the wind couldn't care. And it spirited you ever distant. Till along with it, you were gone, in an instant. I remember, still, you alighting there on the farthest hill, the baby's breath. What if I told you I hid a sinister lie, that I will carry your love for life, that it ain't gonna die? Well, I doubt that you're listening anyway, Love. But I wrote you this record to prove that it ever was. You faded from sight on the distant horizon, and danced in the light as your silhouette died. And with bated breath I watched that hillcrest, but there was only wind in baby's breath.
There's a burn on my arm that I got the day we met, in the shape of a heart, from a friend's lit cigarette. On the floor where we danced, when I clumsily bumped his hand, in your eyes was the fire I mistook as the pain went it. To the middle of my heart it went and it caught me unaware, and I lost my will in your stare--any will to ever look away, and it will forever be my fondest memory. So, the days rolled by and we caught up in the game. It got in the way, and it never was the same. Oh, but once in a while you'd remind me of that first night, in the haze of the beer and the glow of the disco lights. To the middle of my heart it went, and the flame would burn inside. I would light it up to watch it die. In the middle of my heart I kept it to flicker off and on, but it never did catch on. On the altar the day you and I were supposed to wed was a letter the preacher found, which simply said: 'I remember I used to be yours, and you used to be mine.' And the room spun around, and we dipped for the final time. To the middle of my heart it went, and I keep it down inside, in the place it always dies. And the hardest beats that it used to heat, empty, cold within my chest, are the ones I love the best.
A slip of the pen, and winter blew in and muddled the letters at my hand. I strove to compose, in tormented prose, one missive to send her--one love letter, a plea for forgiveness; and when the wind stayed my hand I'd only just begun to count all the ways regret filled my days, how lying beside her did fan a flame. Like the light on the desk, it danced without rest till smothered by winter, the coldest ever. I'll trade you the way it is for the way it had been. I'm lonesome, cold, and blue. Or whatever the ransom is, I would pay every cent my captive heart to loose. But off on the wind the words I had penned flew somewhere forgotten, and ever thence. I never again could conjure them hence, till cold reminiscence took my every hour.
I loved you like a fire in all its ruin. Oh, but never in return did you ever feel the burn. And all along I knew what I was doing. I knew that you were lying, but I meant it every time. Did you go and find a better man than I? Did you give him all your love? Was mine not good enough? Well, if all I ever got from you was lies, it was worth it for my part, though it like to broke my heart. Oh, who did you save your love for?
The two of us, lights down low, were just a-feelin' right at home, when a-comin' up the road rode your daddy and the deputy. And your pa had a hanging rope. You snuffed out the light, I went out the hall window into the night. And you called after me, "Courage, baby! Send for me and I'll come a-runnin'. Just send the word, and I'll come a-runnin'." When I seen you in your dressing robe just a-comin' up the road, I knew you were my only love. And you held my hand and we went through the driving snow, clean forspent when we hit the Red River bridge. You slipped on the icy shoal and fell to your death in the cold river below. Well, I knew I'd best be gone next time the old train whistle called. And when the menfolk all took arms, your daddy swore he'd hang me sure and I would surely come to harm. Oh, the Panhandle wind blows discouragingly hard. I lit a shuck on an eastbound train, ne'er a stitch but my luck. To Dixieland I went a-runnin'. And oh, my love, I'm still a-runnin'.
When I was a kid, I went looking for arrowheads in an Indian crick, and just kept going. I said, "I reckon I'll leave." I meant nothing to no one, except a dog name of Blood, and we drifted along. We headed way out West, where it's picking up. Hitched a ride in the cargo bay of a Greyhound bus. I saw the desert that way, come alive in the starlight. Camped out in a bramble to keep the coyotes at bay. I had Grandaddy's gun tied up in a satchel. It was near all I could handle, but Blood scared them away. We're headed way out West, where it's picking up. Hitched a ride in an airplane and a pickup truck. When I was a kid, I went looking for arrowheads in an Indian crick bed, and just kept going. I've made it as far as I may. I came in to some lean years. Blood died in El Paso, and I buried him there. And I'm living way out West, where it's picking up. Got a mind to stay if fate deals me any luck.
Daylight's cusp, at bitter war with dusk, will rage all night to bring the light. The sun above will greet the moon with love and tuck her in to a sky blue bed. And midday finds the clouds at rodeo, the ceiling spinning, dancing to and fro. As evening bends and whirls, the saying goes--I held it all in my hand. The sun's last rays bleed o'er the day in waves. They blink in doubt and flicker out. The stars, from sleep, astride the blackest steeds, at twilight ride to fetch the night. And midnight spreads its ragged blanket out, so full of holes that ne'er a man could count. And you and I are lost in all that's going on.