We've updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Here Hope Flows Like Blood From the Nose

by The Resurrectionists

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.
    Purchasable with gift card

      name your price


The Pilgrim 05:27
Think I’ll head on up to Hungry Mother Starve there with her Kneel at the water Drink it down Catch a worm Then I’ll come down Only way to lose them pounds Get a pill from the vet Then I’ll be fine Then I’ll head on down to Pigeon Forge My guts are empty Now I’m the starving I’m the poor But I got plenty Of wares in store From my Chinese Brother Korean Born That Jesus shit from foreign shores Yeah I’m coming down Ain’t no drought gonna Dry them wellsprings Ain’t no dearth of Empty vessels Find them bouffants Pluck them purse strings Gonna sell some Golden cow shit Pile it high as them old smokies When I walk my chains rattle When I smile my teeth shine Yeah I know there’s a better day coming But the Lord told me to make this one mine Then go on back to Hungry Mother Starve there with Kneel at the water Drink it down
Picher, OK 05:13
I fell into Picher, OK Covered in chat with nothing to say Dusts heaving gusts through the holes in our roofs Don't know where to go but sure got to move Three thousand fists make a throng of Tom Joads But the tractors they send or driven by ghosts For the sins of our fathers we can stay and they will bury us at home I woke up on an outbound train In a chemical bath they never did drain Dads dragging kids 'cross the poison mounds Sun setting fast on the way out of town There's a cancer in them mountains Running auburn in the streams But Tar Creek cannot build our houses On the hollows of our dreams This machine can't slay old Doe Run Got no Guthries at the wheel Our lungs burn with Cadmium From generations trading their lives for steel I woke up in Galena today Rubbed my eyes but it looks the same Cracks in the street breathing water and lime Standing for now but it’s a matter of time
All that I need is a bag and a box One to bury my troubles One to pack up my sox I was a private school boy Upper-middle class Privileged to make my own troubles Design my own traps I have my own laboratory A trash can full of vice My friends come to the cellar door To get clarity and roll devil's dice She was a public school From PS 39 Never had a spare pair of shoes Nor the thinnest of dimes The only things that she had Were personality, A swell at the hips, those black-painted lips, And a vinyl purse full of things to please you Here's to my troubles Like Houdini's locks Choke up that key before I Drowned in this box Her man's her little chew toy A wet-mouthed singing blues boy Spitting sin sweating droplets of gin You don't want those front seats, they'd warn you He asked her if she's found God She said she hadn't looked hard But take my hand to the back-alley man He's got the next best thing there for you He opened up his throat Swallowed it down hard Shouting groaning ugly twitching Sick on the sweets of the world Don't cry, little girl Don't speak his name You know you didn't love him Why'd you come here to see me? Now all that I need is a bag and a box One to bury my troubles, one to pack up my socks Out in the woodlands Put out that flashlight Mama always said you got to kill them with kindness But if that don't work this old shovel might Hit the ground running But I can't move too fast You know I got to make good time But, Lord, I have to last So here's to my troubles Packed in a box Buried in the woods Under three feet of rocks
Jersey Devil 06:20
part 1 I spent the night in Jersey City November salty breeze My mind was on the turnpike Her head upon my knees Now we leave the party Slam the old screen door Now she says she loves me Okay, it’s time to go In the marshes of phragmites It’s called the giant reed You can spot the Jersey Devil Among those ten foot weeds Further down the turnpike Found a man I think I know He says he is my old friend I doubt his motives though We talk about the old times Raise a glass to Easy Joe Who paid all his debts with travelers checks Disappeared ‘fore it started to snow It’s late in the evening He offers to buy one more I say no, he says hey bartender That’s okay I’m fresh outa dough That’s when he says he loves me Okay it’s time to go part II The Devil’s down in Jersey pulling the woods down He’s got the bittersweet vine and rambling rose The Lord is out in Cali setting fire to the desert He’s planned the day when they’ll sink into the see The Devil’s o’er in Persia shouting “…Siege unto Jerusalem” To radical men with cracks in their feet The Devil’s down in Jersey pulling the woods down He’s got the bittersweet vine and rambling rose The Lord is out in Cali setting fire to the desert He’s planned the day let’s stay at home The Devil’s o’er in Persia shouting “…Siege unto Jerusalem” Build that wall, my people must be free
Bet you took a long journey from boyhood to youth Bet you struggled with your faith and searched in vain for proof Bet you fell in with the wrong crowd and strayed a bit too far But you no longer gamble because you love the Lord Jesus Loves you but he don’t love that noise you’re making With that damned guitar Heard you started boozin’ at 3pm Heard you lost your religion like REM Heard you got that guitar and formed a rock’n’roll band Let loose three weighty bar chords, sang of your inner pain Now you got a lamp to light your path Now you got a support group to keep your life on track But you still got that guitar and you can’t put it back So you’re wailing for the Lord and you’re bringing the attack Is it lonesome in the light at center stage? Is there some inscrutable guilt that you cannot assuage? Does it make you wonder if you’re living the right way? Well, no amount of shreddin’ gets you into heaven Here the words I say
Leif Hillman 03:58
Wish you could be better Shooting like you’d seen in those films But you’re driving it down like that ’78 Crown Vic You found in the ravine Down in Hillman Hollow You’re some mid-century gothic Some modernist’s dream There was a school bus and a tractor The scraping of fallen leaves There was a smile on your face when you asked her for forgiveness But you’d have to beg Come here, come here, come here She’d tell stories of that old man The wooden deck bridge that he’d cross coming for The afternoon aperitif Collapsed into the creek He’d talk about places that she’d never been Wink and tell her they’d ride that old tractor to Lynn As remarkable as it’s always been That’s when the old drunk started singing The fiction he was to make of her father Those afternoons in the barn And out in the barn Old Leif’s bottle and a song In the house three young girls to feed And a young widow to be Holding your breath and counting to ten Racing the devil up the dirt track Falling and skinning your knees That old superstition your pulse in your ears like voices Say get up and Never look back, look back, look back There’s a picture with no frame Man, he looked just like you, brother Good thing you stopped drinking whiskey When it burned a hole in you You know mother told me that he had a friend Who helped him with the feat And I remind her of old Leif
Old Pale Face turned blue when he entered the theater And since that moment the old boy sure loves a good film Cuz here hope flows like blood from the nose He tips his head and rests on the seat back And when it’s quiet the quiet is complete Most men don’t know quite how to take it So he speaks in a voice that almost always cracks Saying to himself that he loves moments like these When his words shatter up against walls of indifference And echo all around When life’s one certainty comes sharply into view Old Pale Face laughs but no one laughs with him That’s a good way to feel alone in the crowd Yeah, here hope flows like blood from the nose All the women appear ten years younger Yeah, here love shows like a raindrop on a rose But they don’t ever show you ever after Yeah, here life goes like a mountain stream over stones The truth is real cloudy and it’s insurmountable Yeah, here hope flows like blood from the nose
It’s a Sunday night in Chambersburg Snowing outside like an Old Testament curse Feeling awful sick and my wife says she’s walking Phoned up the preacher but he won’t be calling She says preach is gone now that’s where I’m going And I don’t think things could be much worse Cuz it’s a dry night in Chambersburg She says preach will be buried in the morning The cancer took him without much warning They say he was a genuine faith healer Don’t know what I saw but I want to believe it The Lord called him home now he’s gone to get his reward But now I don’t think things could be much worse On a dry night in Chambersburg To this town he came a stranger Heard it all before this time it cut me like a razor When that man was talking ‘bout the savior I put my bottle right down Started drinking from the cup Now I don’t know what could be worse Than a dry night in Chambersburg With fingers parted And taught hands a’ quakin’ He whispered words That left me all shaken Go now Be whole Unbroken in body Flat-busted in soul You’ll thirst no longer Your void is now full Receive this blessing In the name of the Lord Amen The ground is covered But it’s opening up The love that conquered It’s swallowing up And on that day where we all end up He’s gonna tickle it’s throat And all it holds Will be given up Until that day Got this question to burn Since he’s gone my thirst has returned Now I’m not sure what my Faith will earn How ‘bout another dry night in Chambersburg
To Hope’s rundown paper paper shack Fire makes everything new Carbon celebrating the wind Fading images of you But here comes the rain When you cannot leave but you just need to go Want to be deceived but you just need to know Used to believe but a mind needs to grow You know what to do you don’t need to be told He had his regrets and not just a few Bought a house and a car and that house had a view For a trophy wife he traded his youth From the top of the world there’s just one thing to do Lived his whole life never left his home town A sweetheart from school had a kid settled down Drunk every night at the Stillwater Inn Driving home eyes closed winding road he’s back again Born with everything but a single concern Unscarred and thus weak how else can you learn Not born with a soul no that’s one thing you earn Don’t be weak just this once light a match let it burn
At the Honeyspot Motor Lodge where all the stains have their own stories There's a girl black shopping bag sways with her hips synchopated gate lollipop eyes Read the numbers on the door That's the place that she calls home Think I'll stop here for the night Try not to make up my own stories About the bedsheets try not to think about the Slick-grease remote control Get to bed now get to bed I watch some TV Discovery all about the common house fly If I had 600 eyes I'd be up on the ceiling next door room 44 I saw her key turn there today In the blue light before dawn desperation Last chance cigarette tail lights Deep deep red Dreading daybreak Happy to be alive Here she come now here she come Sounds like an old song It's a place and time I've never known What is it about? Them flowers that never bloom Did you pay the bills in the morning? Yeah, with a paper napkin [Digits in lipstick] I stole the flowers adorning the window to the room next door OK they raised you right You put up a fight Like to see you win Summer nights and gin Another drink with me And I'll let you be This rippling river its hypnotic waves I'd like to stay and stay and stay and stay OK you can go home And I'll just sit here alone A little drop of sin Let's the Devil in This wicked river it reflects my ways And I could stay and stay and stay and stay


released July 18, 2008




The Resurrectionists Boston, Massachusetts

The Resurrectionists celebrate the dark depths of American roots music with a feel-good, righteous rock fervor.

Refined over the course of countless gigs in and around Boston, the 4-piece band’s performances combine driving rhythms and hellbent showmanship with a twilit vocal tour of family and faith, booze and the blues.
... more

contact / help

Contact The Resurrectionists

Streaming and
Download help

Shipping and returns

Redeem code

Report this album or account

If you like The Resurrectionists, you may also like: