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To Kill a Buzzard

from Attachment Figure by Sarah Morrison

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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Translucent black ice colored vinyl
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  • LP + Lyric Book
    Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Printed booklet includes lyrics (handwritten by Sarah Morrison) and illustrations by Weston Pope
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    Comes shrink-wrapped
    First Pressing of 300

    Includes unlimited streaming of Attachment Figure via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Sold Out

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Printed booklet includes lyrics (handwritten by Sarah Morrison) and illustrations by Weston Pope
    Translucent black ice colored vinyl
    Comes shrink-wrapped
    First Pressing of 300

    Includes unlimited streaming of Attachment Figure via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 10 days
    edition of 10  9 remaining
    Purchasable with gift card

      $29.99 USD or more 

     

lyrics

To kill a buzzard–is it a score
for your heaven or hell basket?
Only catch, never release
He didn’t steal nothing
Doesn’t matter birdie didn’t sing like you liked
Must’ve forgot here it’s
shoot or be shot

Hope is spelled in an archaic hand
Divine it to me and I’ll
relay it to this land
Does it translate? Does it compute?
Ask the buzzard, where’s the proof, where’s the proof?

Mid-flight runner, by a different name
any different place you’d soar like the honeyhawk
Never to choose to disobey the rule
of when you hear the click, stop-
when you hear the click
Trophy kill or carrion,
happened to be you they picked to glue their fear on
No one more scared than the vigilante
and no one more wrong
Pin the tall tales on the kills of the summer
Spread mount, frame, and lock them in the cupboards
Do you sleep better little gunner
like with a fake dream catcher
above your headboard?

It only takes two finches to make a charm
is how I sleep instead
but in your bed you rest right through it
Here revulsion is a feeling that doesn’t apply
In a southern dream
In a southern dream

What happened to this land’s fertility?
Its womb’s trademark hospitality?
Are we better known for our balms
and elixirs, saps, molasses,
sassafras, tall grasses
or the snake in the crop?
The food in our trough
is the word around my town
quoth, “it’s safe in the south”
Same neck of the woods
but a different plot

Georgia borders, ancestral hoarders
Can’t you spot the specter dimly
In the corner?
Chanting at its deafness,
history’s defect. Mine,
the faith that if I carry her to term
she will deliver me in return
But I was reared here
I was reared here
I was reared here
I was reared here

credits

from Attachment Figure, released October 13, 2023

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Sarah Morrison Florida

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