The group is hanging out, pleasantly engaged with chit-chat and cleaning and prep of the club.
D is hanging up his paintings and a few of them appear to be plain white canvases. Grub pokes fun of D for hanging up paintings of literally nothing... but then D turns on a series of mounted projectors and reveals that this art is actually digital - it's a swirl of colors in motion. Sprocket and Jonah ask Carla to schedule a psychedelic night at the club because D's setup reminds them of a lava lamp.
Grub begs Carla to let his band play at the club. She's hesitant; the last time she let them perform, they started playing a song she once recorded - a song she wanted to forget.
With Price in tow, Placid storms into the club and drops a stack of magazines on the counter, muttering something about someone who has pissed her off. The group is concerned... but before anyone can address this, Wayne, a local beat cop, enters and all conversation stops dead. Wayne strikes up a friendly conversation with Carla, who has known Wayne and his family since he was a kid, but it devolves into a confrontation with the assembled group about Club Cibola’s various infractions, both legal and moral. The ultraconservative Wayne opines that this neighborhood, where he grew up, has fallen into decay... D, Jonah and Placid argue back.
lyrics
D:
So did you feel it:
The bullet that tore you apart?
And did you notice the final futile beat of your heart?
And did you reach down to try and dry the tears as they learned
Beloved son and loving husband would never return?
And were you saved by the prayers offered up in your name?
And were you honored when everybody came out to the town square
Consecrate the ground there
Dedicate a statue
A copper plaque to thank you
Fly the flag at half-mast
Say goodbye to times past
Stop and let your mom know
That you were a hero
Doesn't matter
Because a billion Christians swear that you are burning in Hell
For blood that wasn't Christian blood that stained the ground where you fell
Forever locked out of their Kingdom, but it's just as well -
Eight hundred million Muslims see the Christians burning in Hell.
Hell is a place made of circles and lines
Hell is a place made of nightmares and fire and
Hell is a place where you need to believe you are more than the sum of your flesh and your bones.
So did you hear the cheer erupting up as you scored?
And did you sense the eyes upon you as you took your award?
And did you notice the clapping of the hands on your back?
And did you see your reflection in the plaque
Hung in the town square
Consecrate the ground there
Dedicate a statue
A copper plaque to thank you
Fly the flag at half-mast
Say goodbye to times past
Stop and let your mom know
That you were a hero
Doesn't matter
Because a billion Christians swear that you are burning in Hell
Eight hundred million Muslims see the Christians burning in Hell
Forever locked out of their Kingdom, but it's just as well -
Six hundred million Hindus tell you they just got out of Hell.
Hell is a place where you're hungry and cold
Hell is a place you see over and over again
Hell is a place where you need to believe you are more than the sum of your body and soul.
You know, a billion Christians swear that you are burning in Hell
Eight hundred million Muslims see the Christians burning in Hell
Six hundred million Hindus tell you they just got out of Hell
Two billion Red Chinese don't give a shit
And I say -
Hell is a place where your subway is late
Hell is a place where you never make eye contact
Hell is a place where you're hungry and cold
Hell is a place where nobody is interested
Hell is a place made of circles and lines
Hell is a place where you look old before your time
Hell is a place where you need to believe you are more than a name on a plaque on a wall.
credits
from Rise And Shine: Day 2,
released December 15, 2019
Words and music by Jed Davis
Published by Eschatonality/ASCAP, all rights reserved
Jed Davis: vocals (D). keyboards
Bryan Thomas: vocals (JONAH)
Lindsey Anderson: vocals (PLACID)
Alex Dubovoy: guitars
Mike Keaney: bass
Joe Abba: drums
Yoed Nir: strings
Produced by Jed Davis
Recorded by Jed Davis at the Ramones Loft, New York, NY, and Pile of Sound
Additional recording by John Delehanty at O Studios, Albany, NY
Mixed by Tim Latham
Mastered at Howie Weinberg Mastering by Howie Weinberg and Will Borza
