Carl Molengraaf

Carl Molengraaf


The music that would result if the love child of Elvis and Hope Sandoval chain smoked, was taught to sing by tone-deaf Pixies, and shot heroin with Anton Newcombe.


I'm different than other bands 'cause most other bands are better than me. But I'm definitely more depressed 'n stuff.


September Forever

Written By: Carl Molengraaf

Down a quiet stream,
The rippling water has become a looking glass.

I see,
The last of Autumn's leaves,
And the old age lines that came my way too fast

Just ahead,
The trees stand all alone,
Against the coming winter's cold, relentless wind.

It's not fair,
That we're so short of time,
I don't want to say goodbye to you my friend.

I am a fake philosopher, I think I think deep thoughts.
I spend hours contemplating, all the garbage I was taught.
And as the years keep falling by, I'm thinking I'm so clever,
But I don't know how to make it, September forever.

The birds have flown down South,
The only sound comes from my paddle in the stream.

Too soon,
The water will be ice,
With no reminder of the journeys that have been

There's fire,
In the western sky,
Indicating that the day is almost done.

I wish
That there was a way,
To sail with you past the setting of the Sun.

There's a sign on the corner, of Kensington and tenth,
Framed in good intentions, and a bed of hyacinth.
Extolling well-worn wisdom every month to all, however,
They don't know how to make it, September forever.

I held you tight the other night, until you fell asleep.
I felt your breathing on my arm, even, slow and deep.
I'll pray to God, or Jesus Christ, or anyone, whoever,
I'll do anything to make it, September forever.

Faded Soul

Written By: Barie Bulin

Faded Soul

Soaked to the skin, wipes the rain from his brow
Sunset is creepin’
Forgot where he’s bin, rum bottle showed him how
Now he’s weepin’
His past, slowly driving him, insane
And that, rum bottle is, his cane

Stares at the moon, lays his head on the bench
Closes his eyes
Sun comes too soon, with that trashcan stench
It’s time to rise
Now this, empty bottle gives, him pain
Rain soaked, battered boots walk, down main

Dry paper bag, brings his friend to his mouth
Greedily sighs
Pain is gone, shuffles his frame south
Blood in his eyes
Destiny, too plain for him, to see
What he wants, to be is not, to be

He once was, a brave man
Until life, took its toll
Now just, an empty shell
Another, faded soul

Now that he’s gone, nothings changed at all
All is the same
Look over there, another’s heard the call
For this suicide game
It’s clear, what drives a man, to drink
Memories, far too painful, to think.


One. Song. Only. September Forever, about a friend with terminal illness.

Set List

Covers are for pussies. My set consists of a 3 hour guitar solo, using the pentatonic scale, usually in the key of A.