Get all 15 AllOne releases available on Bandcamp and save 10%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Emotionauts, Halcyon Wonders, Whole > Sum Parts, My Answer (prod. by Tantu Beats), Dusty Dossiers EP, The Following Story... (A Midnight Pursuit), Stone Soup For The Soul, For a Year, and 7 more.
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Fourth of July New Hampshire it is,
off on a drive now Gehring is pissed,
divorcing his wife now sharing the kids
with “poor Teri Knight” unfair little bitch!
At 14, Sarah amused from the window,
Phillip, 11, enthused by the big show's
missiles, Manuel brutal, a sicko
explodes too as he fumes over insults
miss those usual routes to the kids' home,
grips holster, dim moon is a sickle
pistol joins in the booming that's in vogue
ripped holes gruesomely through where their grins go
after the blasphemous act his van is a madhouse,
parody act of a Dad as they're fastened and strapped down,
Manuel panicking, New Hampshire fast in the background
burying bagging he's practically been blacked out
Chorus (Teri)
No person should have to bury their children
Never mind WANT to, after they've killed them
plagued by questions a parent is filled with
Please help me find Sarah and Phillip
No person should have to bury their children
never mind WANT TO, after they've killed them
crave my answers I ask could they still live?
Please help me find Sarah and Phillip
in a week in the west they catch the cold psycho
he then confessed, depressed in his own trial,
he then attempts directing them towards child bones
heathen forgets, at best “its in Ohio”
That's all from the Dad, cause it all went black
recalls what he can as he scrawls them a map,
ironic and sad, unconsciously stabs
when the drawing he has is a Toddler's craft
concrete slabs like monument drafts
green pump, tall grass and some logs in a stack
offering that to absolve what he has done
strangles himself and their door to the facts shut
Chorus ( Stephanie)
No person should have to bury their children
Never mind WANT to, after they've killed them
I'll search silent to spare you the built up
I swear I'll find Sarah and Phillip
No person should have to bury their children
never mind WANT TO, after they've killed them
grief is a death tax, Charon will bill us
I swear I'll find Sarah and Phillip
2 years through this, clues all useless
Feds look fruitless, press push news clips
a clarion call to Samaritans “please search”
clarity's all and the burial deserved
who reads it? Stephanie Dietrich, a grocer,
Deeply felt Terri Knight's pleading for closure
A mother, she empathized grief even closer,
sees it her home turf? “Ricco lets go search”
untold, humble, salt of the earth make
dug those chuck holes mocking the worst graves
Gung-Ho Pup, no halting the search made
runs roads months flow calls into work late!
Nice Cujo with a fine-tuned nose
piled loose notes, Steph's fine-toothed comb
mine crude holes, won't quite lose hope
we will fly you home and then find tombstones
The pup chose to sit in some snow by the road,
uncovers the kids, “when you know then you know”
Ricco beside her, she needs no admirers
she says “it's just how some how people are wired”
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2. |
Angie
02:48
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Adam went to Philly to play soccer as a pro,
on off-time he'd wander, by overpasses he'd roam
Oft times he'd chat with folks who hadn't had a home
He'd make sandwiches he'd dole out to those he'd get to know
Now met Red Colt, well read, cultured, drifter gentleman,
old cart, gold heart, silver tongue with civil etiquette
His lady Angie went at Adam, her ammo? Aggro expletives
Adam hadn't expected it, exceptional Red defended him!
Adam frequented the benches and bridges,
Affection had risen for Red and his missus,
He desperately wished to help denizens dismissed
in March both the vagrants vacated...went missing!
Around July Fourth, Homicide Detective Mangold
Discovers a corpse by the river, horrifically mangled
A sicko dismantled the body and horribly bagged those,
limbs tangled in branches an immobile mobile dangled.
The swamped precinct was stumped identifying the body,
Mangold's always solving, but probably not this homi'
Desk donning a post-it hosting Adam's number written,
A kid with uncanny hunch some “Angie” was the victim.
The homeless the Detectives question, when dispensing cards for business,
are defensive 'round the shield, real reticent and timid
Desperate, they reckon assistance in reconnaissance since
recollecting respecting the rep he collected tending the bridges!
Adam “hit the ground running” in gumshoes, obsessive,
He called the precinct daily, THEY called HIM “Junior Detective”
Angie meant a lot to him, this manifested impressive,
never took a break, looked for breaks in the case connecting
Evidence collecting as he met with Angies' exes
One mentioned a residence, she allegedly she never left
At this point, Adam ain't gonna break in an apartment
Let Mangold know, the men all go to get a warrant.
The “city key” smashed the door, anticipated horrors,
More bizarre than gore, see Angie was hoarder,
Postage, lawnmower, papers forty years or more
A redolence that readily lent the scent of drug stores.
The badges didn't have a minute to root through the trash,
Left it to adamant Adam to pursue the truth of Ang
He supposed the corpses' clothes implored Ang was killed indoors
The Force ignored him, assuring it'd look different of course
Adam felt like he'd made no progress at all,
Until a neighbor recalled a brawl that he'd heard through the wall,
Choking, shouting, pounding, a domestic, wild, crazy
consistent with the right date placing a Good Friday maybe...
Adam's suspicion roused now Red Colt was suspect,
Conflicting dour unrest especially 'cause he loved him.
A convincing note dug up from Her unkempt junk mess
unquestionably Red Colt the red handed culprit
Caught Red Colt, his shopping cart stocked full of cash,
Seems a family member died and passed it down to Ang'
Adam can't believe the stark good and evil in man,
Mangold claims the case closed thanks owed to the soccer champ.
Mangold retired, Ang's cash passed to her son,
Red Colt passed of cancer, imprisoned for what he'd done
Adam retired gumshoes, dust accrues on cleats he carried,
And he runs food pantries, to honor fallen Angie.
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3. |
Jolly Jane
03:18
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“Poor them!” Jane felt she aided her prey she confessed
Warped head, unstable, disabled, got cradled in bed,
force fed the fey to fade all their pain dulled to rest
Sure end, fatally playfully taken their breath.
Court sketch gave her the label,“The Angel Of Death”
A hilarious and personable death guide planner,
Jane, nefarious, surely had a most memorable bedside manner!
...
Taunton Lunatic Asylum for psychotic patients,
Toppan, “Jolly” Jane, do not mistake her commonplace
calm plainness and arthritic age as innocuous/safe,
She's got insane deadly habits, Devil's advocate, God she played
caught and contained off at the Cape Cod estate offing the Davis'
Inoculation authored graves, her knowledge gained at college (Cambridge)
odd experimentation's macabre engagements
certainly implied her certifiable state and the state denied nurse certification
...
The horror born Honora Kelley to an alcoholic father
“Kelley The Crack” pot, wack-job, I had jotted “may be the fodder”,
A tailor, the tale goes: “tried to sew his eyelids closed, lost it”
lost mother to the illness she's fraught with despite that she fought it
with no support the kids went to an orphanage, impoverished
Honora and sis boarded with top-end Toppans, fostered
The Toppans renamed her “Jane” to emulate a favorite Aunt and
she started embracing darkness regardless of shed hardships
“Poor them!” Jane felt she aided her prey she confessed
Warped head, unstable, disabled, got cradled in bed,
force fed the fey to fade all their pain dulled to rest
Sure end, fatally playfully taken their breath.
Court sketch gave her the label,“The Angel Of Death”
A hilarious and personable death guide planner,
Jane, nefarious, surely had a most memorable bedside manner!
As her alias implies, Jane was jovial,
Alas, the ailed lass applied a mask of joking tones,
observe morbid roller-coasters
swerve horrid overdoses
serve morphine comatose
rapidly Atrophine stoked its host
tragically atrophy folk to ghosts
as she would happily hold them close
Kiss them and dismiss them,
finished as they finished,
indicative of her sickness
she admitted it once admitted:
she came during their exits!
came highly recommended,
surprising one reference read,
“Jane sat by to the bitter end”
some Missus Hyde sits inside edits questionable ethics
a syringe for scythe elicited/incited vile deadly injections
whenever questioned Jane claims empathetic intentions,
signifies her murderous head sick ill-advised mercy subjective
…
“Poor them!” Jane felt she aided her prey she confessed
Warped head, unstable, disabled, got cradled in bed,
force fed the fey to fade all their pain dulled to rest
Sure end, fatally playfully taken their breath.
Court sketch gave her the label,“The Angel Of Death”
A hilarious and personable death guide planner
Jane, nefarious, surely had a most memorable bedside manner
...
She wonders why the undesired come to eye her
“I yearn to learn why your ire is what I earn?”
Justified snuffing beloved lives stuffed inside urns,
sometimes shrugs opining:
she must'n't have got her dire number right,
adjusts it higher admiringly judges her “fine work”
a writhing cuddled hundred drugged to die and smirks.
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4. |
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Fred and Edwina a Houston Mr. and Mrs. were
oil and water, the Rogers? all piss and vinegar
bickering occurred viciously with vim and vigor
the rigmarole rigorous, ridiculous on the Richter,
rig em a role and script touring ridiculing descriptors
thriving off conflict neither victims neither victors
Inventive pettiness: the Texans kept separate fridges,
Invective sentences stretch acceptable decibel limits
decades of livid head games, headaches at best imprisoned
their neglected hermitic kid (a tenant who kept his distance)
grin and bearing bared teeth snarled rarely love there
unfairly uncaring for how Charles was faring upstairs
Once a puzzle gets its hooks in you, it never lets you go
The more that you ignore it, you're in quicksand sinking slow
Once the seed is planted in you, brainstorms nourish, nurse its growth
mysteries with missing pieces, missing peace until it's whole
Beaten little kid, geophysicist genius lived with his
senior citizens, evil sits in him, needs an impetus
abused reclusive door mat all chats reduced to broomstick Morse taps
eludes abhorred parents news slipped through door cracks
Mom wrote bogus notes and stole with her only kid's hand forged
Charles owed in loans his homeowner's onus as landlord
could've lost the house! wanted now to blot them out
without getting caught somehow... harshly thought 'til the plot was sound
Once a puzzle gets its hooks in you, it never lets you go
The more that you ignore it, you're in quicksand sinking slow
Once the seed is planted in you, brainstorms nourish, nurse its growth
mysteries with missing pieces, missing peace until it's whole
'65: the final year that Charles takes shit
Mom and Pop betrayed him?! thought he ought to slay them!
watch the grave macabre display which is his Fathers' Day gift:
Seldom held in love, held a grudge, held a gun, calls Mom, impatient
Monster waiting had thick skin trigger finger itched him,
he scratched it with a blast which scratched Mom off his hit list
Fred crawled faster it didn't at all matter the walls splatter
Handyman's claw hammer mauled Dad as his skull shattered
In the bathroom tub Chuck tapped the blood like Dracula,
Hacked and cut, packed them up, meticulously had to scrub
3 days cleaning damage, planned this scene staged for the badges:
Parents with fridges for caskets, made a clean break and he vanished
Once a puzzle gets its hooks in you, it never lets you go
The more that you ignore it, you're in quicksand sinking slow
Once the seed is planted in you, brainstorms nourish, nurse its growth
mysteries with missing pieces, missing peace until it's whole
Montages play of clocks rotating thirty years now,
The Rogers' case, unsolved today, the jury still out
contemplative office mates pick up a whiff of the scent strong
dossier's dusty state rinsed as they pick up where left off
Martha and Hugh, two obsessive forensic accountant buddies
Farming for clues, Hugh confessed “research adrenaline junkies”
Alarming but true: soon consumed immensely, contentedly studied
embarking like sleuths, snooping intently in the intensely bloody
interviewing more and more riddles drew them door to door
quizzin' a hundred plus citizens forming this tour de force
isn't considered enduring chores sifting informing forms
digging through the gory lore's diligence a core allure,
Might go fish through microfiche moonlighting gumshoes
dug through one open case, opened two hearts and love grew
Martha and Hugh all odds against you bonding them two
as dots connect too want to spread truth and document proof
Confound: investigations failed, police evade avail
the fun-house-case entailed strange details that they unveiled
Bloodhounds chase their tales on paper trails 'til they prevailed
love-bound gallant Hugh engaged the gal and Martha's face was veiled
They shyly nod, they find it odd, in tying loose ends tied the knot!
Files compiled a lot, pried in plodding prideful prodding
defied the odds on the quite macabre crime they might've solved
“The Ice Box Murders” novelized the findings thus write the plot:
John Mackey? that missing key investigating gained,
His widow a willing witness, integral to explain:
Charles used “Anthony Pitts” as a secondary name
Several days after the murder visits a secretary “Jane”
not the “sedentary cave dweller” his reputation claimed
Jane's his lover, provides a getaway, buys a Cessna for a plane
absconded from the Texas state to Hondoras he flew the coup
Golden Goose turned a profit for bosses who knew the truth
Phony hit-man Faux-“'Tony Pitts” planned to kick back,
strange...assumed no kickback from his infraction's impact
wage dispute riffraff went bad karma charged a grim tax
enraged crew 86'd mad Charles with a pick ax
Once a puzzle gets its hooks in you, it never lets you go
The more that you ignore it, you're in quicksand sinking slow
Once the seed is planted in you, brainstorms nourish, nurse its growth
mysteries with missing pieces, missing peace until it's whole
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AllOne
Left-field rapper, slam poet, singer/songwriter, and author Bruce Pandolfo from Long Island.
Creating to connect. Obsessively exploring and creating art as healing and growing.
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