I heard the weatherman calling for a tornado
I open up the door then and down I go
in the cellar, in the cellar
in the cellar with the pickles and the jam, that's where I am
Well, there's garlic on a nail and apples in a box
carrots in a pail, cucumbers in the crocks
in the cellar, in the cellar
in the cellar with the pickles and the jam, that's where I am
Well, the garden grows cabbage, I make sauerkraut
small potatoes are the first to sprout
in the cellar, in the cellar
in the cellar with the pickles and the jam, that's where I am
I'm a self-ordained monk in self-imposed exile
I get no sympathy here 'cept from the weeping tile
in the cellar, in the cellar
in the cellar with the pickles and the jam, that's where I am
No, it just won't keep, the seal won't hold
the fruit will spoil under the mould
but the seeds are where it's sweetest
and it is sweetest at the centre
you wait for them to ripen
so you can store them against the winter
against the winter...
Oh, I try to hear you talking but all I get is static
I'm down here in the cellar, you're up there in the attic
in the cellar, in the cellar
in the cellar with the pickles and the jam, that's where I am
credits
from Anthropology,
released December 31, 2015
Paul Bergman • bass, drums & percussion, guitar, voice
Jon Guenter • viola
Amy Loewen • voice
John Paul Peters • violin
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