Salvation Rose

by An American Forrest

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Audio Hammock Well written, produced, and recorded. A humble offering that passes on human truths in mighty fine form; recommended. Favorite track: Southern Mouth.
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Written in Marrakech, Sofia, Sarajevo, Madrid, Venice, Albiez-le-Jeune, Paris, Walla Walla, Adna, Kent, Greenwood, Fremont, Ballard, Bainbridge Island, Moscow, and Pullman.

Barn Sessions: April 5-6, Adna, Washington. Engineer: Mat Bainton.
Living Room Sessions: June 16-18, Moscow, Idaho. Engineer: Bart Budwig
Church Piano Sessions: June 17, Pullman, Washington. Engineer: Bart Budwig, Alex Forrest VanTuyl
Dynasty Sessions: June 24, Seattle, Washington. Engineer: Justin Cronk


released September 2, 2013

A. Forrest VanTuyl (Vocals, Guitar, Harmonica)
Fawn Dasovich (Vocals, Piano)
Jonny Wade (Upright Bass)
Julian Stocking (Upright Bass)
Charles Wicklander (Hammond E-100)
Heather Thomas (Drums)
Cooper Trail (Drums)
Patrick McHenry (Pedal Steel)
Heather Hagan (Violin)
El Barto (Trumpet, Handclaps, Vocals)
Sean Knox & Tiffany Harms (Vocals)
Jesse Witciziak (Accordion)

Produced by An American Forrest with Bart Budwig

Artwork by: Showdeer
All songs by A. Forrest VanTuyl


all rights reserved



An American Forrest Oregon

Western Music from Eastern Oregon.
Ragged-voiced tales and wild, hybrid style, finger-picked and strummed guitar. Poetic incantations that conjure images: a lone rider silhouetted against a sunset, the days fading light, the unspoken bond between horses and people. Songs as detailed as tooled leather about old love, and new frontiers. ... more

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Track Name: August
Winter came hard, she came harder
pulled my heart out on a thread
sewed my scars and took it farther,
she stitched her picture all across my head
We slept clean on Charlotte Street, settled in my broken bed
She said “I may not be back when August ends...”

Summer showed
I kept callous
she said “Alex, breathe.”
Burnin’ slow
all that we can salvage
I said “fold the borders and throw me in between!”
I’s weak-knee’d on Charlotte Street, I was kneelin at my lonely bed
sayin’ “I may not be back when August ends.”

Pulled my boots
‘n I soaked my bourbon
Oh, I smoked my third one of the night
heard from you,
it was postmarked Austin
You don’t know what you’re costin’ my mind
Harmonize my memory, I hear her in every breath, sayin'
"I may not be back when August ends"

Sky split slow
an it stole my thunder/
This weather I’m under ain’t gettin’ warm
I said "No,
I wasn’t born to wonder, an'
I’ve wasted every lover since I was born."
Sky's bleedin' leaves over Charlotte Street,
baby I'm burnin' this empty bed,
No I'm not goin' back, and I'll let August end.
Track Name: Hemisphere
She was up late lookin’ for a Northern Cross
I had achin’ hands, I held a tattoo’d scar
and an address full of ampersands and rough-cut arms and lavender
and lilacs under strangled stars

I sell the sunrise, I sleep bizarre,
I break the constellations in our suitcase hearts
keep the calendars, keep the clocks,
keep the histories repeating and the past post-marked and give us
Time in the same hemisphere and Time less flawed

She was up late waitin’ for her dreams to dawn,
yeah she’s anything but mistaken that she’s takin’ too long
with her folded-feather memories, his Cezanne songs
yeah her eyes are missin’ autumn leaves, her wrists are missin’ fall so it’s

Cedar bracelets when she gets back, it’s a Latin Atlas and a borderless map
I said “keep the calendars and keep the cards, keep the histories repeating and the past postmarked and give us
Time in the same Hemisphere and Time Less Flawed”

Swallow Cedars in the silence save the north where you were born
pay your sober debt to solitude & a soul to stay forlorn
carve the walls out from our country flood the border forgive the storm
curse the callous on this history and these broken oaken doors you can
sell the sunrise, and sleep bizarre, go and break the constellations in my suitcase heart,
curse the calendars, curse the clocks, curse the currents in my arteries & the headwinds in my vox and give us
Time in The Same Hemisphere and Time Less Flawed

I have wasted all my daylight, I have sidestepped every waltz
I’ve outdistanced every honestly amnesic needless fault so
make her lips to kiss the dateline, lay her ribs on Capricorn,
those hips they curve like Cancer on the mornin’ God was born

you can sell the sunrise, go sleep bizarre, break the constellations in our suitcase hearts
you can hang the calendars, unwind every clock, I been drownin’ all my borders,
nailed my passport to the Southern Cross, said
“Finally, I’m in your Hemisphere, and I’m less flawed.”
Track Name: Salvation Rose (Josephine)
I will burn my back til my red hands crack, I will wake up before dawn
let the angels moan, and I’ll make my home, where your rusted bones belong
burn the midwest nights, burn the lost lake eyes, burn the Madison Mornin’ songs
where the road don’t move I can wait for you I can send your blues back home

Highway 101 we can save your sons we can break your guns and graves
it’s the high tide reach, it’s your turquoise teeth, how the pearls you sleep with taste
I gave all my love to your brother's drugs and your mother’s worthless faith
you’re my blood stained kin, you’re my half-dead hymn, you’re my sin that I can’t save

Let my prayers swing low like a Salvation Rose let my wanderin’ toes find thee
Let the lithium doses and the red Ponderosas sing like a cedar scream
you’re the nightmare caught you’re the colt unlocked, you’re the last thought before I sleep
we’ll be callused and cold we’ll be salvaged and sold we’ll be there when God learns to bleed

and the orchard’s full of fireblight and my back’s been sore since spring
and I worked from dawn to midnight and I still ain’t worth a thing
and your stone soul’s my religion I was baptized in your eyes
and I cursed all our divisions, tore this mountain and ripped this tide

I wake up and RoseMarie’s dead and you shaved my head and you’ve stolen all my songs
my home’s burned down I didn’t make it out, I just screamed your name til dawn
when the flames took me, I felt your cancer creep and my ghost will have no haunt,
I’ll be locked and barred, I’ll be locked and barred, I’ll be locked and barred
so break these land-locked arms and tattoo your scars on me, Josephine
Track Name: RoseMarie
Carve the Cascaseds from the same small sky,
Frame it all in Cedar,
He'll be awake when the telephone rings,
He'll be there to meet her.
Cover the ashes like your sister's smile,
Frame the fall in shade
Rose Marie, Rose Marie, Rose Marie sings,
"all my debts have been paid."

Blacken the piano strings, waltz me for miles
love the line for the leader
Blackberry border, the sweetness, the sting
lay my body beneath hers
Hide us in the lilacs, let stars fill the silo
Honey let’s all stay late
Leave your religion like you left Abilene,
Leave your grey guns by the gate

Throw away the thimbles, and throw away the signs
we were born believers
grow our golden roses & hold our dreams
kiss your close-eyed sleepers
RoseMarie, RoseMarie, Rose Marie sings
"all my debts have been paid,
Shine the summer sunsets, an' shine the piano strings
Lay me down in the shade...
Lay me down in the shade!"
Track Name: Southern Mouth
Southern Mouth

I hear messages from God in my radio static,
letters from you growin' mold in the attic,
hardwood floors and dust in my lungs, and
feelin’ anything but 24 years young;

We tried to love like my parents, ended like yours-
regard these lines in our faces like wasted shores;
we dug love from the cracks of our salt-choked skin,
distilled our own nostalgia-infused gin,

Southern Mouth.

Last I heard from God, he lost his dick in the war,
contracted Clap in a taxi from an Illinois whore;
he’s in a hospital in Paris, shootin’ morphine on the floor
with a nurse with a name that sounds just like yours.

So if you hear me in Texas where the barb-wire sings,
where the girls drink whiskey, and the boys gasoline,
turn your blue eyes to Market, turn your clock back an hour,
give your love to the loneliest man left in Ballard,

Southern Mouth.

I heard the message you left in my radio static
and then I dug all your letters outta the attic
I tore up the hardwood, slept on the dirt
we never got better just a different kind of worse

Southern Mouth.

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