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

Bushwick Book Club presents The Shining

by The Bushwick Book Club

  • Streaming + Download

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

      $11 USD  or more


"Snowy White" It is the tongue that bites My senses, pulse of wetness seeping through me. Redness roaming. Redrum drumming. Into pathways lost to my eyes. Wendy spies. Somehow unaware of yesterday and her husband wonders all her wonder or pain. I found - a red fire glows. Embers sparking in dust yards of yesteryear ashes. Who lies buried in that caretaker mass grave? Unknown to me. Twin souls lost beneath a red sea. A nameless mass that grows in multitude under fireflies and charred earth. Am I to grow from this if someone wets my seed? Can I see beyond circumstance, embrace an axed eternity in my hands? Arms ache with the desire to hold. 237 To touch. Caress beneath folds of skin, curves of life. Warm blooded glow of soiled earth mixed with flames and liquid red. She begins to move. To sway. To live. Inhale! A slip of air seeps through the covering of darkening clay. Sun beats her shape to grow from her watery womb into night's air. Light you. Bite you. Come catch me if you dare to follow my footsteps into the dark wooded green of my moiste home. Wet. RedWet. 11 fold Drilling leaves. Growing old under a sold soul. Slowly growing mass of humanness rising from the redrum flames. Broiled to perfect temperatude. Alight with life, she begins to see. Perceives the light. The Red And dark. How they change and glow. She deems her mouth for consumption, safety. A bite can chomp the limbs off yummy branches or hands or doors or hardened foes. I grow. I die. In silent splendor of solitude. The tree in the forest that no one saw falling. Overlooked the hills. The cold. The anger. Resentment turns golden red. Like the color of my lover's look before I took his life. And mine. I took his life. Then mine. No one knows it's rising. Yet all feel her heated presence. All know she lives. Protect her, cry she-wolf sisters gathering around her in circles formations. My kind changed. Disguised the life I knew into something unkind. Her vulnerable new ness her fresh understanding -infinite compassion. - dangerous. Not all may understand what she is or why. Wendy why. Danny can fly. There need to be markers. Lipstick kisses on the redrum room. Ways of helping so we can survive and live and live for all of us. She escapes. Leaves. Falls away. Regains again the lost amplitude. Aptitude of her freedom. Dust to dust needs no protection. I drew myself a map of the world. One where mountains grow quite bold. There lives a silent I in love. A quiet spot that floats above. It peaks at sunrise morning's dew. Snowy white. It fades as longing dies a new. A part must die for I to thrive. A part so hidden that I deny. She lives in me. In quiet rooms where silent knowing comes renewed. Blame cold and wind and rain for storms. This blustering blast of dense hormones. Chemical shifts in celluloid blocks remove my unintelligible thoughts. Learn from the flow. All I's are one. And storms that come but cleanse the sun. Speak not of pain for I see none in glorious awe of I and One. Tonight. I found him. Not because of a set standard but more connected to a yearning. Like when you wake up parched and all you can do is lunge for the faucet and dip your tongue in the chlorinated liquid life seeping out. I guess that's what struck me most about him. Of course, I know I'm cursed. Who wouldn't be? Five-six. Great ass. Good hair. Athletic tits. Wink wink. Sometimes I even make myself cringe. Anyway, if I don't enjoy this then why the hell am I hear. Shit. He heard my heel click.
Jack Nicholson Torrence Was at the end of his proverbial rope He shouldn’t have punched that kid on his debate team He should have just left him alone And poor little Danny’s got the shining He sees dead people He hears of red rum Halloren says the things you see can’t hurt you close your eyes, doc and they’ll be gone Gonna be a long lonely winter At the Overlook hotel With no living soul to play with Until the snow melts The lady in the bathtub 217 Would kill for another younger man She’s been soaking in the tub since 1957 purple and bloated just waiting for Dan The Ganster in the Presidential Suite Had his brains splattered over the fine silk wall Known in his day for chopping up his victims The guys who killed him ran away with his balls Gonna be a long lonely winter At the Overlook hotel With no living soul to play with Until the ice melts Come and play with us Danny For ever and ever You look in the mirror You see the redrum Tony can’t save you from Mr Grady And your Dad’s kinda creepy And so is your mom
mortis sanguinum (death blood) hominum occidunt - (kill men) iratus leonum (angry lions) iratus lepores (angry rabbits) iratus sepes (angry bushes) deus no! (god no)
What if Danny has a fainting spell and swallows his tongue! What if Jack falls down the elevator shaft and punctures his lung What if you run out of food and have make like the Donners Feeding on each other or until you’re all gonners. What if the place caught on fire? Oh what a thought. What if your marriage has expired, and it’s starting to rot. What if you overlook all the signs at the Overlook, and they find you dead. What if you have a fun time, now stop it, Winnifred. Wendy, there's no overlooking at the overlook, he’ll never finish that book, your marriage is cooked and now you’re hooked on a road you wish you never took. everything you don't want to see is on repeat. Wendy, there's no overlooking at the overlook You’re on the road you wish you never took and now you’re hooked. You should have left him when he shook your boy and broke his arm. Sure he didn’t mean any harm. What does it take. How many bones have to break before you’re willing to wake up and leave Jack. Now look. You’re at. The overlook overlooking the monster you married is possessed and busy cooking up murder in ways he’s on a craze to please his palate. You know he’ll go for broke with a stroke of the rocque mallet. There’s a horror in ever y room. Some very bad thing that keeps happening happening. You can’t escape the fear and doom. Try and keep your sanity from unraveling raveling Every room has its horrors. Death and blood fill the corridors. There’s a woman in the bathtub who can’t stop dying There’s a guy in a dog suit who can’t stop crying The woman in the bathtub -- dead but flirting The guy in the dog suit whose knees are hurting. REDRUM on wall from which there’s no recovery You can even die from the evil shrubbery. REDRUM on the wall. There's no recovery. Evil rabbits are made from evil shrubbery. REDRUM on the wall happens again and again Blood in the hall - Come take your medicine. REDRUM on the wall happens again and again Blood fills the hall come take your medicine. Evil on repeat evil on repeat it never ends. Shine on… Danny, shine on…


Recorded live, October 29, 2014 at The Frying Pan in New York City.


released November 6, 2014

Flyer by Thomas Bayne. tombayne.com
Photos by Lippe Manufacturing. www.lippemanufacturing.org


all rights reserved



The Bushwick Book Club Brooklyn, New York

We started in January 2009 playing songs written in response to Kurt Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions. We haven't stopped since. We've written & performed songs inspired by everything from "On The Origin of Species" to Dr. Seuss to Raymond Carver. There are BBCs popping up nationwide now. Bushwick Book Club Seattle started in 2010 & is run by Geoff Larson. Our nerdy dare-devilry knows no bounds. ... more


contact / help

Contact The Bushwick Book Club

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account

If you like The Bushwick Book Club, you may also like: