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lyrics

This is the story of a dangerous fool
I guess we could call him John
Counted his losses too steep to climb
And in the mornin' he was gone
Living off the strip in the city of dreams
Became a game he would never win
So he headed out into the desert
With a pistol and a bottle of gin

He kept his eyes on the road ahead
Like he had his whole sorry life
He didn't care about the expectant girlfriend
Or the wife that he left behind
In a deep purple suit sunfaded and worn
A beacon in a smokey back room
He drank his last bill and the air was still
When he stepped out beneath the moon

He cried it's cold in the twilight
And I've spent my final dime
I'm waiting for the reaper
And I sure hope they is kind

Fuel ran out on the side of the road
So he slept there beneath the stars
A coyote howled at the rock in the sky
And it echoed low and far
A fistful of gin the desert wind
With the barrel on top of his tongue
But his gambling soul had dice to roll
So he waited for the mornin' come

As it rose above that jagged horizon
All it was was red and round
In it's unending rotation
There was no truth to be found
So Called John knew he could not run
So he waited for the thirst and the violence to come
Cursing the day and the sky
And the stupid sun

credits

from So Called John / Circle of Life, released June 26, 2020

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Kristian North Montreal, Québec

Kristian North eviscerates the very notion of restraint with a maximalist sci-fi epic grounded in the sounds of ‘70s soul, funk, and disco, with dizzying detours into the wildly disparate realms of rock opera, show tunes, and Hawaiian-tinged country, culminating in an assemblage that defies categorization. ... more

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