Storytime With Roadkill

Storytime With Roadkill

BandFolkComedy

Lend you ears to a girl that can spin you stories wrapped in a harmonious cachophony. The trials of love and heros, whores and the judge, Christ and the executioner. Accompanied by puppets and a loop machine, Roadkill creates a world that is so full, it crumbles in three to five minutes. mmm good

Biography

When someone finds the right format in which to exist creatively, it offers an endless ocean of ideas to tap into. The art of story telling, for centuries the warnings of seedy characters and archetypal heroes have been represented in symbology and tone, the story teller creates a world with words, entrancing every ear in the room. Through these channels I have found my most creative and entertaining outlet. To tell a story in the time and format of a song has been an exciting challenge. In the end, the result is a show that provides puppets and monsters, shadows and live painting, character upon character, and every level of emotion. The music accompanies the story, so every genre has the opportunity to be touched. Please sit around my circle and give me your ears, and I will remind you what it is to love and laugh and be afraid...

Lyrics

Devils Dollars

Written By: Jesse Wilson

My stomach screams for hunger, and curls to the smell, of crusty feet and dusty hair of those who don't bathe well.
The fridge is always empty and the couches all are stained, they just take all of my money and ignore while I complain.
This isn't easy living and the source of all this giving, is a deficit that will not swell, but earn me my own place in hell.
Now he's really got my number, and my fears are far from rash, the devil keeps loaning me twenty dollars but Jesus keeps asking for cash.

We must support our savior, but really now all his friends? I wish the stories came with a dollar, because the stories never end.
And he never fucking feeds me, just puts thoughts in my head. I heard you were a maricle worker, where's my fish and bread!
He makes asking oh so easy, just a hand shake and a grin. And I'll take it without question yea I'm broke and it's a sin.
Bu Lucifers a waitin' says I dont have to pay him back, all this debt will be collect when I have my heart attack.

My major moral delima, how can I tell them all to leave? You wouldn't believe the ego of one born without being conceived.
Fuck this immaculate conception, boys it's payback time. Note to self, be more specific so I'll get beer instead of wine.
And just for all the trouble, I got a couple things in mind. Don't know anyone to heal, but a few you could make blind.
So might as well live this life raging, in the end I know where I'm goin. Screw the squatters in my house, Satan keep the money flowin.

Because I'm easily offended, and I know when I'm being used, and now my debt is due with Satan because of Jesus and his Jews.
And so the moral of this story, is watch out who's at your door, if they speak of eternal glory they'll break your bank and ask for more.
In the end they'll come out laughing, and all your possessions will be owned. They'll just leave and find another couch and you'll be stuck with Satan's loans.
Now he's really got my number, and my fears are far from rash. The Devil keeps loaning me twenty dollars, but Jesus keeps asking for cash.

Little Story

Written By: Jesse Wilson

Sable sister had a mister who took open hand and closed tight fist to her,
father pleaded and proceeded, a tear was shed for the man that beat her down.

Sister sable is not quite able, to reach the phone at the end of the table,
now misters cut up, time to wipe the blood up, hell of a way to get
your man to shut the fuck up.

Police insistent, she was resistant, no one believed that the little whore's innocent, now she's in danger, house wife wants to hang her, because the man she murdered happened to be a judge.

And it's just one more drop in the bucket, till its full we're trained to say fuck it,
Only splashes for fame and glory, and just one drop for a forgotten story.

Father teacher, and a loving preacher, taught men to love a devil's creature. Doubt tingle finger tips, numbs the upper lip, as he leads us all in a Sunday worship now rise, amen amen.

His faith is leavin him, heart deceiving him, and now all he's got is a wife thats grieving him. In his talks to the lord, his secret plans to soar, way passed due, time for this preacher to fly.

Well there's no cliffs in Texas but they got espestos, asphyxiate but don't arrest us. No you deserve better, maybe something wetter, though a watery tomb is no place to die.

And it's just one more drop in the bucket, till it's full we're trained to say fuck it. Only splashes for fame and glory, and just one drop for a forgotten story.
So I'll cry, I'll cry, I'll cry, a story to the mountains, and make waves worthy of the sea.
If we all, we all, we all, share a little bit more moisture, and plant a story and throw away the seed.

A wife suspicious, scarred and vicious, and a judges story way too fictitious. Rage and pain take its course, she sets her eyes on the whore, a pretty penny is the cost to take her life.

She finds a man with a gun and a plan, ten thousand hard cash in his hand. Don't make it quick, I want her to be sick, since we shared a prick, she mine as well share my pain.

Before the stories been told, different dice had been rolled. The end of a marriage nearly thirty years old. The little whore killed her man, now she has to stand, nearly fifty years on and completely alone.

And it's just one more drop in the bucket, till it's full we're trained to say fuck it. Only splashes for fame and glory, and just one drop for a forgotten story.

A judge is vile, old and senile, and about to stand in his own trial. He didn't take a life, he cheated on his wife, and now he takes a hand to a woman he never loved.

To break the silence, he resorts to violence, and blood is shed for little defiance. Because she'll never stand up and put her hand up, thats why I break and beat her all the time.

While drunk and angry, he goes way too crazy and he pays the price because he wasn't worth saving, a bad judgment call, as blood hits the wall, it's the last we'll hear from our judge anymore.

And it's just one more drop in the bucket, till it's full we're trained to say fuck it. Only splashes for fame and glory, and just one drop for a forgotten story.
So I'll cry, I'll cry, I'll cry, a story to the mountains, and make waves worthy of the sea.
If we all, we all, we all, make a little bit more moisture,
And plant a story, and throw away the seed.

The Dying Dish

Written By: Jesse Wilson

Lick my tears and pierce my lungs, dear friends I'm done, dying in death alone.
Oh sweet withdrawl, splash sun on my face, so I'll leave this place with you in mind.
In day or night, live dark love light, laugh loud, make your shadow proud.

Bowls of peaches, drained by leaches, saved by Jesus, keep in stride. We forget to feel regret, so greiving sets on stupid pride.

Bound by braids so soft on skin, its there within I find release. Expanding eyes wide like wings, other lacey things, soars to softer air.
whisper wants and secret thoughts, before I rot, into this dying ear.

Coulds on fire, I expire, burning spire seals my fate. Last dying breath, inhale death, not ready yet, but it's too late.

hey

Shovel me deep, remember my story, keep my things, and love my boy.
Blood sweet water, and dusty box, with the fishes and rocks, I'll see you soon.
Step softly soul crusher, infants graves are angels foot prints.

Bowls of peaches, drained by leaches, saved by Jesus, keep in stride.
We forget to feel regret, so greiving sets, on stupid pride.

Mantis

Written By: Jesse Wilson

We fucked until it hurt because we both were starved for color,
It's never black and white when dealing with the tattooed lover.
Confusion under sheets contorts the morals under cover,
A sorted sum of pleasure? A person past their measure?
So hard core we hit the floor, so hard core we hit the floor.

Web of lies, six spider eyes, now I'm a fly, eaten alive.
Snaggle tooth of a twisted truth, a sneaky slooth, tears through my hide.
Beaten bare, with little care, of who's standing there, bleeding my pride.
Left alone to throw a single stone, hope to hit bone, but let him survive.

To tempt no touch,
no time for lust
sucrete a crust,
and crook that smile.
Cold blooded friend
fever forgive me
fever decieve me
and constance lie.
My eyes not blind,
just shaded by flesh
that I tasted at best,
the tounges hard and dry.
Chastity you whore!!
but what a good cover,
couldn't fool your lover,
with speculation aside.
No tell, no sin
but silence ain't so easy
when the one your teasing
squeals more than swine.

web of lies, six spider eyes, now I'm a fly, eaten alive.
Snaggle tooth of a twisted truth, a sneaky slooth, tears through my hide.
Beaten bare with little care, of who's standing there, bleeding my pride.
Left alone, to throw a single stone, hope to hit bone, but let him survive.

So all the problems giving my misliving since of feeling dry...I choked the beast, resting at my feet and pushed the pain aside.
I lept from stagnant, flowing freely, and feasted on his lies.
I boiled brutal batterings and seared the sinful acts. I made candy out of crying games and gave the candy back.
I protected all the points of pleasure, in every single act.
To make it right, I displaced rage.
Not to kill the beast but let him out of his cage, not to stone the man for acting his age.

Discography

1 demo, a full 11 tracks, unmastered
and more in the making
Thank you to Evan Brown and Alberto martinez for the production of these tracks!!

Set List

The set list can range from 15 minutes to 90 minutes, I have dozens on songs and only need myself to perform them.