The Dream of Stones

from Whore's Breakfast by The Rebel Wheel

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Call down the clouds. Draw the dark shroud.


Took too long to look at the sun,
metal glints as you load the gun,
too late for you
Draw the blind and pick up the trash,
Beer can bed and cigarette ash,
wait for you.
You feed her rage.
Gilt-lined her cage.

Twist the tip and fire up the high.
twisted face the smoke in your eye,
grace for you.
Needles spent the marks on your arm,
vacant stares and silent alarms,
wasting you.
Call down the clouds.
Draw the dark shrouds.

Lay the gold trap.

Light slows down and comes through the glass,
distant storm and hurricane blast,
come for you.
Winding down the unkindest truth,
empty words and all of your youth,
paid by you.
Call down the clouds.
Draw the dark shrouds.

Lay the gold trap.


from Whore's Breakfast, released August 11, 2013
David Campbell: guitar, bass, drums and drum programming, keyboards, vocals


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The Rebel Wheel Ottawa, Ontario

Steeped in dark cinematic soundscapes and complex, turn-on-a-dime arrangements, The Rebel Wheel features a frenetic mix of rock aggression, complex compositions and unpredictable odd-meter vamps. Originally formed in 1991 as a fusion-based midi ensemble, the floating lineup has gradually focused on a modern, more performance-oriented, genre-blending Prog. ... more

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