Let me tell you about a man named Jack.
His hair was long as it was black.
He crossed a country to a desert land.
And wrote guitar songs, he didn't quite plan.
About women he used and left.
Empty bottles and early deaths.
On the road like a rollin' stone.
No one to call on now that hes alone.
He's in a room with the windows shut.
Door cracked to let the light shine on through.
He's got his mind in another place.
Another drink, another drag, to get him through.
Now Jack had an errand to run.
It's been three years since he'd seen the sun.
Stepped outside guitar in hand.
To end his life behind the wheel of his van.
When he saw it'd all gone to hell.
Thought about his Ma' and Pa' and wished em' well.
When he had nothin' left to sing.
He turned the wheel to end his misery.
He's in a room with the windows shut.
Door cracked to let the light shine on through.
He's got his mind in another place.
Another drink, another drag, to get him through.
A collection of 12 years of beats from Canadian producer Beatchild, this compilation offers warm, hazy sunshine in the dead of winter. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 1, 2021