FIRE-WEED

Copyright: © 2025 Far West Records
℗ 2025 Far West Records

Credits from Bandcamp

Shot of Malört
Weather
Rich Chicago People
Little Kid
Later in the Evening
In the Shadow of the Pines (Traditional)
Hoyt Axxton
My My
Oreo Ice Cream

Credits:

Shot of Malört
Written by Andrew Marczak
Recorded and mixed by George Rezek at Evil Chicago in Michigan.
Andrew Marczak - Gaff Piano and Vocals

Shot of Malort while I hold your hand
I’ll love you darling til I can’t
I’ll love you darling til I can’t
And tell that joke that always lands
Just tell that joke that always lands
I’ll love you darling til I can’t

Weather
Written by Andrew Marczak
Recorded and mixed by George Rezek at Evil Chicago in Michigan.
Andrew Marczak - Guitar and Vocals
Peach Miller - Vocals
Nico Ciani - Drums
Matt Ciani - Bass
Nicole Murray - Wurlitzer
Lucas Chamberlain - Lead Guitar
Lydia Cash - Fiddle
Dylan Sage - Banjo

I’ve become subservient to the weather
I’ve become subservient to the weather

Grandpa’s in the kitchen with his oil pastels
And yesterday’s Globe and Mail
I’m on the sofa with my skin
Stuck to the leather

I’ve become subservient to the weather
I’ve become subservient to the weather

Grandpa starts reading me an open letter
From a mother of five to an at large killer
He’s been stranglin’ coeds all along the coast

She says, I’ve got no doubts about your good intentions
In fact i think you're teaching them a real good lesson
You can't expect your next breath to happen at all

And that’s why
I’ve become subservient to the weather
I’ve become subservient to the weather

Rich Chicago People
Written by Andrew Marczak
Recorded and mixed by George Rezek at Evil Chicago in Michigan.
Andrew Marczak - Guitar and Vocals
Amy Myers - Vocals
Nico Ciani - Drums
Matt Ciani - Bass
Nicole Murray - Wurlitzer
Lucas Chamberlain - Lead Guitar
Lydia Cash - Fiddle
Dylan Sage - Banjo
George Rezek - Additional Guitar

Rich Chicago People don’t like lamps
Rich Chicago People don’t like lamps

They like white white overhead hospital lights
They like white white overhead hospital lights

And Rich Chicago People don’t like lamps

And up on Flattop Mountain lives a ghost
Scribbling on the burnt trees leaving notes

It’s an old old language
That no one can read
It’s the only language that lightning can speak

And Rich Chicago People don’t like lamps
Rich Chicago People don’t like lamps

The like white white overhead hospital lights
They like white white overhead hospital lights
They like white white overhead hospital lights
And big wide open floor-to-ceiling windows

Little Kid
Written by Andrew Marczak
Recorded and mixed by George Rezek at Evil Chicago in Michigan.
Andrew Marczak - Guitar and Vocals
Amy Myers - Harmony Vocals
Nico Ciani - Drums
Matt Ciani - Bass
Nicole Murray - Wurlitzer
Lucas Chamberlain - Lead Guitar
Lydia Cash - Fiddle
Dylan Sage - Banjo

When I call home I won’t make a noise
‘Til I know that it’s you

When I call home I won’t make a noise
‘Til I know it’s you

And I hope it gets easier
The more time you do

When I call home I won’t make a noise

Little kid at the break of dawn
By the hospital with his headlamp on

Meets my eyes as I cross the street
Says, Hey buddy you look a lot like me

Later in the Evening
Written by Andrew Marczak
Recorded by George Rezek at Evil Chicago in Michigan and by Sasha Massey at Golden Bull in Oakland, California
Mixed by George Rezek
Andrew Marczak - Spoken Word
Jack Brereton - Piano
Jesse Cheshire - Piano

Absolutely nothing could have been improved about my stay at this quant and iconic Sacramento motor Inn. Situated between an assortment of petrol stations and a Mexican restaurant with a 3.5/5 yelp rating, I felt all of my needs and cravings could be satisfactorily met at only a moment’s notice. The check-in was swift and professional. Upon entering the room, situated on the stately motel’s sizable backside, I was met with clean floors, blackout curtains, two memory foam mattresses meticulously tucked on a pair of black industrial bed frames, and a roughly 38” television set replete with HBO and other premium cable offerings. Later in the evening, upon returning from the evening’s indulgences, my colleagues and I were greeted by a single dying cockroach on the floor. My three cohorts and I pulled up chairs and watched the upside down creature jerking its grotesque appendages, as if this small beast were grasping desperately for death’s sweet release. After about an hour of watching this macabre dance, we obliged its wordless request with the heels of our boots. Subsequently, we silently stood up, splashed each other’s faces with a handful of water from the remarkably clean sink and exited the room. We found some of our traveling companions in a room neighboring the pool and cajoled them to take a plunge. We rehearsed our synchronized water dances while our coach filmed and yelled out curses in response to any misstep or miscalculation in our routine. We thanked her. We shared a single towel and dried ourselves and then returned to our dens to recharge. We slept like babies. We awoke to the sun in what felt like no time at all. Check-out was naturally as smooth as check-in. 10/10, would recommend!

In The Shadow of The Pines
Written by Sylvester Legg and Hattie Lummis
Recorded and mixed by Andrew Marczak at home in Chicago, Illinois
Andrew Marczak - Acoustic Guitar, Harmonica and Vocals
Peach Miller - Harmony Vocals

We wandered through the shadows
Of the pines my love and I
As the winds were blowing freshly from the sea
When a sudden fit of darkness
stole across the summer sky
And the shadows came between my love and me

Some hasty words were spoken
And almost unawares
Hasty answers to unthinking anger led
And our hearts felt bitter longing
And our weeping and our prayers
Ne’er can make these false cruel words unsaid

Come back to me sweetheart
And love me as before
Come back to me sweetheart
And leave me nevermore
In life’s dark pathway
The sun no longer shines
Come love and meet me
In the shadow of the pines

You took the ring I gave you
Nor you cast one glance at me
As you held the jeweled trinket in your hand
And then you went and tossed it in the waters of the see
While the waves were splashing
idly on the sand

You went your way unheeding
the tears I could not hide
You went your way and not a word was said
And a stubborn heart was breaking
Underneath this mask of pride
And the pine trees sobbed in pity overhead

Come back to me sweetheart
And love me as before
Come back to me sweetheart
And leave me nevermore
In life’s dark pathway
The sun no longer shines
Come love and meet me
In the shadow of the pines

I awake from bitter dreaming
But to call aloud your name
I sleep again to dream of you once more
My stubborn pride has lifted
I admit I was to blame
Forgive me dear and love me as before

For the future’s overshadowed
With the darkness of despair
In the joy of life love’s sun no longer shines
I’d give this whole world gladly
Once again to meet you there
Reunited in the shadow of the pines

Hoyt Axxton
Written, recorded, and mixed by Andrew Marczak at home in Chicago
Andrew Marczak - Guitar, Mandolin, and Vocals
Peach Miller - Harmony Vocals

It’s 3 in the morning
You’re out with the Borzois, knee deep in snow
And you think about that summer
The sky could eat you whole here, if you aren’t careful

The gas station’s empty
His old friend still works here, but you don’t remember his name
And he says you look better
He’s real glad to see you, but so strange seeing you all the same

And the strongest oath is straw to
The fire in your blood
The strongest oath is straw to
The fire in your blood

You looked just like Hoyt Axxton
Firing out from the trees, at a million miles an hour
Goddamn, if that doesn’t feel like relief

Well the strongest oath is straw to
The fire in your blood
The strongest oath is straw to
The fire in your blood

My My
Written, recorded, and mixed by Andrew Marczak at home in Chicago
Andrew Marczak - Guitar, Fiddle, and Vocals

My my what fine work you do
My my what fine work you do

Pull out your notebook
Write down a couple dumb words
Hope to forget them
I’ll be singing them still

My my what fine work you do
My my what fine work you do

Sacerdotal intuition
Blending in dont talk, just listen
Hallelujah jealous fishin’
Dancing drunk across a kitchen

Oreo Ice Cream
Written by Andrew Marczak
Recorded and mixed by George Rezek at Evil Chicago in Michigan
Andrew Marczak - Guitar, Gaff Piano, and Vocals
Peach Miller - Vocals
Nico Ciani - Drums and Vocals
Matt Ciani - Bass and Vocals
Nicole Murray - Wurlitzer and Vocals
Lucas Chamberlain - Lead Guitar and Vocals
Lydia Cash - Fiddle and Vocals
Dylan Sage - Banjo and Vocals
Amy Myers - Vocals

I didn’t ever really doubt it
You said that you could live without it and
Watch your reruns on the floor

You always had a knack for business
You had a sweet tooth and quick forgiveness
I think it’s safe to say that you got bored

I hope you’re eating that Oreo Ice Cream
Buyin’ it by the pint at the dollar store
Every time the doorbell rings
The part of my heart where you are sings
But it ain’t your voice anymore

I bet you’re somewhere like Miami
Always said you wanted somewhere sandy
Where you could spend your nights on a starlit shore

Out stoking little fires
Making gardens out of old car tires
And watching reruns on the floor

I hope you’re eating that Oreo Ice Cream
Buyin’ it by the pint at the dollar store
Every time the doorbell rings
The part of my heart where you are sings
But it ain’t your voice anymore

All songs mastered by Terrin Munawet
Album Design & Layout by Samuel Aaron
Album Photos by Andrew Marczak