My cousin Owen Coffin
I think about him often
He laid his body down
To feed the few remaining
The tender age of seventeen
After two years at the Sea
His mother trusted him with me
But we were beaten by the Sea
Imagine my shame in surviving
Within the first leagues on the Sea
A squall pitched the topmast into the lee
Survived by the skin of our teeth
But something yet wickeder under the waves
Waited an ocean away
Rise my son
Up from the seizure
in your lungs
It's just cold, hard life
Testing your will to sacrifice
C'mon push, now, pry
Tasting the salt that stings your eyes
If you don't win this fight
You'll never have to win or lose again
A year of blood and lard earns
A Coffin steel much harder
We rounded past the cape
To make for virgin waters
With ports to make provision
We hunted with conviction
The Andes saw Dewitt abandon ship
But soon he'd be the envy
Of the men who lived much longer
The beast was as pale as the steam
That spewed from its hump as it cleaved
Into the Essex, splintering
And smashing into pieces
Slipping under the waves
And drowning all hope on the way
Set adrift on the Sea
Burned by the sun and sympathy
For those left who'd die
Butchered that some may yet survive
Without food this life
Forces a man to improvise
If I draw short, then fine
I'd sooner die than live to dine again
My cousin Owen Coffin
I think about him often
He laid his body down
To feed the few remaining
Brooklyn's Groupie make post-punk that is at turns bouncy, scuzzy, joyous, and sharp, with a strong melodic core; this is their debut LP. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 19, 2021