Sage Francis – THANK YOU (Daytrotter) + lyrics

“Thank You” (Daytrotter session)

“Thank You” is off of my Copper Gone album dropping June 3rd. This version of the song was performed at Daytrotter’s SXSW studio last March. Here’s the write up from Sean Moeller at www.Daytrotter.com:

“We knew what Sage Francis was going to do to us when he came by the studio in Austin a month ago. We knew he was going to destroy us. We just didn’t know he was going to destroy us as much as he wound up destroying us. He’s a rapper unequaled and his new record, ‘COPPER GONE’, is a goddamned blessing, after a four year break between records. This particular song from the full session floored us. We were slack-jawed and stunned by the passionate delivery and sentiment in ‘Thank You’ and we all — Sage included — wanted to get this out into the world in front of the full session, which we will post in June. With music by Anders Parker and drums by Alias, ‘Thank You’ is a song that feels as ponderous as it feels definitive. It’s a song about a long span of time and people who mostly act out of love, though sometimes it’s strangely shown. Francis raps, ‘Thank you for the matches, for the gift of fire, for the wood and axe, for whuppin’ my ass/For the wheel even if you didn’t invent it/For the impact that you had on me/ It’s epic/Thank you for the effort, for teaching me the ABCs, even if I never make my way to Z, even if I never do for someone else exactly what you did for me, I’m gonna do my best while you rest, in peace/Thank you,’ and then we turned the lights off for the night and shut it down.”

This “Thank You” recording is part of a bigger session that they’ll release after Copper Gone drops. There are a couple songs that I did with B. Dolan and another CG song. This was definitely the one saving grace of SXSW for me. Many thanks to Daytrotter for staying on my case all of these years to get something done.

“THANK YOU” lyrics:

You gave me language as a gift.
I turned it against you.
I was stupid, I was young,
I was hanged by my Judas tongue.
You shouldn’t give weapons to kids who don’t know better.
They can’t possibly understand that there’s no such thing as forever.
For every letter in the alphabet…
You said, “Connect em to a happy word
no matter how bad things get.”
I did my best but the pickings got slim,
Once I arrived at “x”
and I had to think of synonyms.
I weighed them against the antonyms.
I was hanging with all the mannequins
Who were on a constant search for a person’s amputated limbs.
Almost offered up my own
by trading in my arms and legs.
You said, “Learn to express yourself
if you’re gonna stand for things.”
I stood up. Without expression.
Stood up against everything.
Including you. I was stupid. I was adolescent.
But I had your lessons to cling on to
and I want you
to know how much it helped
considering everything that I’d gone through.
There was a period without periods.
Run-on sentences were like binges.
I was a comma with no pause.
A rebel with no clause.
Anxiety’s no excuse
once there’s nothing left to separate.
We could have connected, but didn’t.
I was ignorant.
Passed out on the space bar.
The further we drifted apart the closer I came
to realizing just how amazing you are.
Now that you’re gone I’m going to say it to the stars,
Until my words knock worlds off their axis
and the universe collapses.
Thank you for the matches.
For the gift of fire.
For the wood and the axe.
For whoopin’ my ass.
For the wheel. Even if you didn’t invent it.
For the impact that you had on me. It’s epic.
Thank you for the effort.
For teaching me the ABC’s.
Even if I never make my way to Z.
Even if I never do for someone else
exactly what you did for me.
Thank you.
I was a stupid son of a gun with initials carved into me.
I was a stray. A runaway. Afraid some day you’d shoot me.
So I scratched off the letters with a pocket knife.
That’s how I lost my way when I was tossed into the fray.
This is not my life.
Who am I kidding, this is a Thank You note disguised as a written apology,
for everything you taught to me.
So awkwardly I approach…
the open microphone with everything that I wrote.
Clear my throat, adjust the collar on my coat,
As I rock crowds, microphones, and boats.
Then I stroke whatever little ego I have left.
I should have left it at the altar.
But I didn’t because I’m an idiot, self-deprecating author.
With a paperback edition
that isn’t worth a flip through,
If I don’t give you the credit that you deserve.
You edited the words.
From the grave and beyond.
From the first sign of sun rays at dawn,
Until the moonbeams set blaze to my lawn.
The universe collapses on my front steps.
We get to share in that moment.
For just one moment.
And nobody’s upset. And there’s no more anger.
There are no more sunsets
So I crawl back in the chamber.
You can shoot me up. You might as well.
We had great communication before the tower fell.
Thank you for the matches.
For the gift of fire.
For the wood and the axe.
For whoopin’ my ass.
For the wheel. Even if you didn’t invent it.
For the impact that you had on me. It’s epic.
Thank you for the effort.
For teaching me the ABC’s.
Even if I never make my way to Z.
Even if I never do for someone else
exactly what you did for me.
I’ll do my best. While you rest.
In peace.
Thank you.