Boiling Breakfast Early

by Mischief Brew

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1.
There's mischief in the eyes of peddlers A love to dance in the hearts of meddlers I'll trade steeds but never trade 'way my days To be a working slave A graceful road to a quiet grave A merchant with a broomstick chasing my mother away If I'm a goblin or a devil Why do I send joy to the rabble? Why do I fill your childrens' hearts with hope? You send them to dreamland Armed with lies that I have no fortune grand Name me a working man But I am not a slave No I am not a slave, no You set traps for the vultures When they come for the dead Over the hills, under the earth Goodnight, city Fiddles lilting 'Round the licks, a victory dance Eat and drink and sing my children And here is wealth! Bread for the bakers And goods from the makers There's shoes not fit for their princes But fit for we Kings and queens Oh, if you could taste our dreams They're breeding strangers, bitter settlers And there's mischief in the eyes of meddlers
2.
Cast a stone into the stream to feel how much has passed Feel the strength of your screams as worlds alter From just one stone cast Hold land in your hands, hold all of its power On days when you think you're alone in your bower Your fences of nature will crumble And finally you last The earth finally lasts A piece from the waterside becomes a ripple in stream As the end's in the skies as you're planting up all of your means The gods don't march along with you Or cry when you've bled But they smile when you feast On the fare that they've spread When you hold the stone of the earth And you're stitching your seams Stitching your seams Oh what a sight that we are to see The masters of earth and the masters of sea Oh what a sight But oh, let us be Where will we end on this path to be free? This war for peace? And now we all gather to pray to the rocks and the creeks To remember, the ground we all stand on Is that which we seek To hold land in our hands, hold all of its power If they didn't destroy it, well surely they'd cower The dreams of the morning As we cast our stones to the streams Stones to the streams
3.
There was a knockin' at my door It's the dreaded landlord He wants his rent and wants it now And he is careless how He left us in a vacant daze Askin' how we got here And we retired to slumber But the glasses never were rinsed There was a tapping on my back It's the dreaded foreman I think I see a smile Through his teeth and his cigar He put my hands to working Said they'd otherwise do nothing And I made a thousand things today I'm sure I'll never use There was a ringing of my bell I picked it up to answer They said they were my comrade But they couldn't say my name So I asked about the sun and moon And what their thoughts on time were They hung it up in madness And went on to punch the clock And somewhere there's a sound of someone singing I got an invitation once to liberty They had a mischief brew, but no goblets were used Besting rum or porter 'Tis a liquor never brewed, never brewed There was a rapping at my door It's the dreaded policeman He had a ticket to enter Signed by fools and stamped with laws He questioned me on politics Scorned my generation For not respecting elders And the land's authority So when the landlord came to knock I said, "Come back tomorrow!" There's more life I'll be living Than just slaving from your wage And to the troop and foreman Make yourself the things I don't use For I'm off into the forest For a liquor never brewed Today, I'm following the sound of someone singing I got an invitation once to liberty They had a mischief brew, but no goblets were used Besting rum or porter 'Tis a liquor never brewed, never brewed
4.
We are bouncing and dancing as you sing your lullaby Shouting “move” when you say “stay.” The tune of your flute is a rifle you shoot That lays us all down to be prey They love you, we hate you We made you to break you today Breaking away We are painting the walls, making jokes out of laws Hiding sleeping pills under our tongues Shut the light, close the door, we spit them to the floor Then we’re hummin’ and a’strummin’ and a’bangin’ on drums What did you know when you said we are wasting away? How could you say? How could you say we just waste away, waste away? Big table not big enough How could you say we just waste away, waste away? Hummin’ and a’strummin’ and a’bangin’ on drums We will not be lulled into slumber by you We will not be lulled into sleep For we’ve had a taste of this wondrous place And its treasures, we intend to keep So now when they say we just waste away, waste away You can say hey, it’s not so Why is it then that we’re growing And growing and growing and growing And showing them all what we know?
5.
Barratry, hey! Barratry, hey!
6.
Who is this that stands before me With a candle at its end? There's a fire in the wheatfield And a storm around the bend There's strangers out a'prowling 'Round the great harvests of hay So gather all your family And send them all away And to your youngest daughter Hide her smiles, hide her curls For the master is a drunkard And he'll sell her off for pearls Hide her from the vile workbeast Cover her ears from the screaming world For the master is a drunkard And he'll sell her off for pearls Who goes before the tyrants Wielding innocence, like fools? You'll need a thousand armies And a tale to tell your troops Tell a tale of harsh oppression And the will to thrive again How your master is a bastard And his day must see its end And when they start to falter Bring their hearts a carving knife And I will not wince in sorrow Sir, you did not take a life For on the final day of lashing You won the wardship of their souls Captured, blackened by your orders Then set free in the wintry cold You say your master is a bastard And you cannot stand his yoke If your master is a bastard Take a knife up to his throat There's no means to scold your daughter When she overturns a stone There's no comfort in a dark house No harmony in torpid moans Work, rest, pay to die Your bones are rickety hinges Your back, a rusty tin So you shambled to your bedside Found your wife in bed with him If your master is a drunkard Don't bring him wine, or pour If your master is a drunkard Escape to freedom while he snores
7.
I'm humble, alone An old cutter of stone The maker, the shaper The smith of your home No magician am I For once I did thrive But now I can barely survive My love went away By boat and by train To somewhere, find someone With prosperous trade In the woods of Old Penn There's work to be done Build mansions for the landworkers' sons Where they threw away the knife for the gun The brick for the feather They cut a friend's throat Then they run They're fighting the rise of the sun They left me poor and alone and one So years did pass by How I did survive With faith that my friends Would come back to my side But I gathered a lot The craft wasn't forgotten We stand and our fruits won't go rotten We didn't throw away the knife for the gun The brick for the feather Didn't cut a friend's throat And then run They're fighting the rise of the sun They left me poor and alone and one So one day back they came Brought little but shame Their children in arms And their bodies in pain They shivered in the cold I saw from my stone home And they knocked 'til tears rained on the snow They cried, "Worker of stone that we left long ago, We're sorry we migrated to join the rows. But now we've returned Yes now we've come home There's no place that we'd rather go, no." Why humble my tone? An old cutter of stone The maker, the shaper The smith of your home A magician am I For I did survive Cause I never became civilized I didn't throw away the knife for the gun The brick for the feather Didn't cut a friend's throat and then run They're fighting the rise of the sun They came back poor and alone and one
8.
There's a hole in the wall There's a light down the hall There's a pest in the system So we'll surely hear it fall There's a knife in my pouch And a hammer in my belt There's a pot on the fire So the joy's yet to be felt There's home, there's a well There's a ringing of the bell So tonight we feast on treasures That they could never sell Spirits sing, spirits fly Through the window, see the sky Where the moon calls not for slumber But mischief, joy, and might So our weapons seem not much to show But they don't kill, they only help us grow No they don't kill We got our weapons We brew a mighty ale The dead are dancing on their graves As drums and fiddles wail We got our weapond We bring them to stones The victuals wer There's a knock at the door Well, I wonder who it's for Gotcher walking stick a'ready There still are different shores With a mind in our heads And a heart in our chests With the world at our boot tips, lad Our hands hold the rest I've seen the towers they build on and up I got the mirth already in my cup i've felt the winds they try to bottle up and sell I've walked an earth that they could never kill No we won't kill There's a hood 'round my shoulders And a banjo in my hands As the notes rise like smoke rings Together shall we dance This is the flicker through the window "Food is warm in here," it beckons While outside bites the winter air Inside you'll find our weapons. Weapons, weapons... So our weapons seem not much to show But they don't kill They only help us grow
9.
Come see pioneers starving on trout Meet the drunkards of spirit, of soil, of stout But old silent fires shall someday bathe all A cider ferments in us all Final call! Hear the prophets whose days have gone dim And for all royal silver, she still won't wed him Hear the bastards, yes among us, they go All flaunting freedoms so scarcely known How I see Merrily The unmasking of liberty As she bows to misery But her open hands, the joy and dance And this pattern across a great quilt For ages to span You're a traveler packing for years Armor of rage in a shower of tears And you never could see that you were wild and loose 'Til a baby blue soldier forbid you to choose Now you cry: off with these systems and off with these laws! Bring on the seasons, tradition, and song! The patterns and cycles We, hitchers of stars Shall reel in adventure to shatter these bores To march from these wars
10.
11.
Come labor, get ready to dance for your bread My son, I was once where you stand There's a beast with insatiable hunger Its minions need crafters and skilled working hands Needs a fortress high in the hilltops And we are the great chosen crew But I am a lowly carpenter So what have I power to do? Oh misery, call us to rise up at dawn To turn 'way as fast as we can We may be the mortar that cradles the brick But I am just one grain of sand And don't tell me of tossing the wrenches It only brings pleasure and pain And we are all lowly carpenters So where we're taken is where we'll remain And the masters shall govern with unbroken backs Look down from the top of the hills You can cry through the night just as much as you like There will always be towers to build I coulda been more than some stone-dragging vassal I could be more than their wood-cutting slave But we are all lowly carpenters So what have we power to change? And if you can't take no more then get out of the way For we have a day to get through We wire their castles, their prisons and banks Know their mansions from cellar to roof We've got hammers and wrenches and chisels We could destroy any great wall we come to But I am a lowly carpenter So what have I power to do?
12.
Listen to the fife and snare marching through the square Stencil flags of insurrection dancing through the air Read the rants of a Thomas Paine of modern day I have felt a spirit that has not yet gone away Hey! Boycott me and boycott this And mute your childrens’ mouths When they sing along to this very song Spread word all around Hey, F.O.P., boycott me! For I am standing up I’d rather taste a rebel’s glory Than drink blood from your cup Read the rants of those in jail And those who rode the rails Then lay down on the roads we paved Eat the crumbs we used for trails And discredit all the rogues Liberty’s crack within the bells The demons in your heavens And the angels in your hells The scorned few of today are the heroes of tomorrow They’ll be a holiday, times of regret and sorrow And when they’re pressed on stamps We’ll hope they’re not forgotten So let’s go down in history blacklisted and boycotten
13.
I'll always be a gambler I cannot dream of another way Every morning, rise and shine The dice I throw for the grandest day I'll always be a gambler I will bet my goods on a victory Always sail the River Chance And break the bounds of our liberty Shall I place my bet on beauty? She's won so many tales Or merry to be with fellowship? Yet foul no other's trail? For courage, it will fester And rot if not found a use So open every bottle Eat the sweetest summer fruit Hey, what card is awaiting? Are the winds with me? Will I have bested sorrow? For soul, a victory Or will I turn away, defeated Remain so 'til I die? A miserable poor man shouting out "A self-made one was I" I could spit into the river Curse the game at the side Watch the fruits of courage rot Then run away and hide Rather, here you'll find me dancing Down the wildest of trails At every turn, adventure And a hope that joy prevails A hope that joy prevails I'll always be a gambler I cannot dream of a richer way
14.
The devil was the land Crafted by the hand And chased out of the pastures into forests grand And there you'll hear the notes If you stop to drink this toast You'll be dancing to the reeds of Pan And the clergy of today Will try to lead you away Into dungeons, set you to work counting days And yet you shall invoke All the names of cunning folk Yearning for the sun in a darkened age Today our gods are seen So greedy, how they bleed They've been busy digging graves for eternity's seed The farmer is the man He scatters on his land Their handiwork, he takes no heed While prancing 'round the oak Is the merriest of folk Laughing like an ass at our wild west jokes So beware, all fey His passions are great They've been bottled up and grown threefold The duel of man against mystery Among the village folk Such wild tales were told But ways did change as the church, it stole Earth spirits, stone and seed Turned sex to greed And took the face of a musical goat The devil was the land Forest, sea, and sand Now we can barely stand Or use these tender hands The duel of man against mystery Which shall revel in its victory? The duel of man against mystery
15.
Goodnight, my dear Lay aside songs of spite and fear We lovers are bound Completing a circle and waltzing around Your words soothe as fire Roaring and washing the tinsel from liars And with every kiss Solace and bliss will not seem so rare Our rebel's embrace shall give us a taste Of truth that is masked by a sly poker face A spirit is well and alive Live and we will survive Goodnight, my love The moon, she shines from above So forget all the rough Rejoice and revolt with love when you rise up Your words soothe as waters Carving a path through mountains and mortar To shatter the ground Walls of silence with sound With lions and doves
16.
Cast a stone into the stream to feel how much has passed Feel the strength of your screams as worlds alter From just one stone cast Hold land in your hands, hold all of its power On days when you think you're alone in your bower Your fences of nature will crumble And finally you last The earth finally lasts A piece from the waterside becomes a ripple in stream As the end's in the skies as you're planting up all of your means The gods don't march along with you Or cry when you've bled But they smile when you feast On the fare that they've spread When you hold the stone of the earth And you're stitching your seams Stitching your seams Oh what a sight that we are to see The masters of earth and the masters of sea Oh what a sight But oh, let us be Where will we end on this path to be free? This war for peace? And now we all gather to pray to the rocks and the creeks To remember, the ground we all stand on Is that which we seek To hold land in our hands, hold all of its power If they didn't destroy it, well surely they'd cower The dreams of the morning As we cast our stones to the streams Stones to the streams

about

This is a raw, scratchy collection of demos, radio performances, and practice sessions. It includes the first demo, "Mirth," in its entirety (remixed and remastered), as well as songs from "Live on WKDU," "Don't Spoil Yer Supper," and some unreleased songs as well. Released on cassette by Dead Format/Square Of Opposition Records (OUT OF PRINT), and digitally by Fistolo Records.

Track info:
1-8: Complete “Mirth” demo, remixed and remastered
9-10: From “Live on WKDU” CDr
11: From 2nd WKDU set
12, 15: Appeared on “Don’t Spoil Yer Supper!” tape
13-14: Unreleased demos
16: Unreleased demo, appeared exclusively on digital version

8: Also appeared on “Where The Wild Things Rock” compilation
9: Appeared on “This Is War!” & “WKDU Live” compilations
11: Appeared on “Beyond The Ballot” & “A Wrench In The Works” compilations

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released April 8, 2008

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Mischief Brew Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Emerging from the undead ashes of PA punk troupe The Orphans, Mischief Brew started with a scratchy demo tape in 2000 and has since spread the good word of anarchy, hilarity, and rebellion across state lines and even the Atlantic Ocean a few times. We've managed to exist for over 13 years in one form or another by kissing nobody's ass and doing everything ourselves, for the most part. No rules! ... more

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