A post apocalyptic psychedelic blues ballad from the point of view of a mother trying to explain to her child why it happened.
Written, Performed & Produced by Drop Dead Sunset
© 2023 Herrmann, Jones, Cox & Gray – All Rights Reserved
Download The Single – mp3 format @ 320kbps
Personnel:
Ty Herrmann – Guitars
Steve Jones – Bass
Keio Stroud – Drums
Nathan Cox – Lead Guitar, Chaos Guitar, Treatments
Ernie Gray – Organ, Guitar Synth, Vocals
Credits:
Mixed at Torrida Nashville
Cover design by Ned Muipo
You have deciphered the code.
You must now travel to the coordinates located somewhere in upper Asia to find Serge. He will know the location of the briefcase containing the location of the map to a Holiday Inn. You must then talk to the concierge, Debra. She will give you the key to the room where you will find a Gideon’s Bible.
Inside that Bible you will find a phone number. Call that number from the payphone in the parking lot. Talk to Franceska. She will whisper to you a cypher. Do not write it down. Memorize it. She will only say it once.
The cypher will give you the location of a of a small single-engine prop plane. Teach yourself to fly it in twelve hours and not a minute longer. You will then have exactly two hours to fly to the coordinates written inside the glove compartment. It is a Denny’s in South Dakota. Talk to Ethel. She will give you the idol. Destroy it.
Contact Ricardo when this is done. He will have further instructions.
Lyrics:
i don’t know a way I can explain to you
you won’t understand the reason why
we knew about it for many generations
people talked but never really tried
normalize it
put it off another day
the floods and the usual famines
the hurricanes and dying of the bees
and the fires burning all the forest
shrug it off behind a dumb cliche,
“there ain’t no guarantees”
nothing you can do will make a difference
leave it up to the authorities
we’ll survive though constant innovation
leave it up to ingenuity
throw it away
as long as it feels good
the floods and the usual famines
the hurricanes and dying of the bees
and the fires burning all the forest
shrug it off behind a dumb cliche,
“there ain’t no guarantees”