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A Clam's Song

from 12 Songs, 12 Weeks by Buckman Page

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BPFANS: Thanks for listening. The hits just keep on rolling out. We can't stop ourselves.

A Clam's Song
Written by Marcus Lohrmann
All parts performed by Buckman Page
Recorded, Mixed, Mastered by Stark Naked Records
Written April 2010

Artwork by John Williamson


It is difficult for those of us with Northern European blood running through our veins to express ourselves frankly. I have trouble with that. Mix a little exposure to criticism and cliche art, a wince or two at obvious attention-grabbing Hollywood emotional tear-jerkers and you've got my worst fears down. Frankly, I am so afraid of cliche that it stops me from getting any kind of point across. I don't mean to sound self-deprecating here, it's a real struggle. Lyricism is a battle between inspiration, reality, and the pop tune you heard walking down the street this morning (or, more simply, that damn song you just can't get out of your head because it's too easy). Eventually, all these things catch up with you, bleeding into the music you pray is at least somewhat original.

I can't remember what we were arguing about. That's the dangerous thing about arguments. At some point they become a false pissing contest to see who can outlast the other. I sat down and wrote this song as an explanation, out of frustration for my lack of humility and ability to open up. "I wish you'd grab your shovel and find me here." This song is an attempt at the notion that to censor ourselves out of fear of being wrong, or cliche, or cheesy impairs our ability to get to the heart of the truth. Phrases like "I'm afraid," "I'm an idiot," "I'm selfish sometimes," and "I really like you," are ones we hear all the time. But sometimes it's the best we can do to explain ourselves. This song is like that. It's the best I could do at the moment to get at what was really going on.

Take care of each other. ^ML


I'm a stupid superstitious man
If I's a beast I'd be a clam
Diggin deep beneath the sand.
I wish you'd grab your shovel
And find me here.

Struggle when I talk
I got a different kinda walk
I wear holes in the soles of my shoes.
I'm a mess of a clam and you know it -
I think you think I'm cute.

But ooooh you're the best kind of best thing
And ooooh I love that you can love me.
Cause I'm a man who falls -
Got a tripping curiosity.
Find me between the walls -
Remove me from the stampede.
Honey, I don't need a savior,
Just someone to lay here and talk with me.

If I's the beat, you'd be the dance,
Emitting pure romance
A naked window to the past
It's fury and wisdom and chaos -
We'll not flee.

If I was lost you'd be the map,
A train upset with tracks
Two steps forward, three steps back.
There's a beauty in knowing
Walls are built to fall.

Honey, I don't need a savior,
Just someone to lay here and laugh with me.
Honey, I don't need a savior,
Just someone to lay here and hear me out.


from 12 Songs, 12 Weeks, track released June 15, 2012


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Buckman Page Chicago, Illinois

From belting vocal presence to passionate lyricism, from rhythmic precision and elegance to powerfully sweeping guitar solos, BP presents an engaging sound both in their recordings and live performances that is straight forward, charming, and alive. Their music is raw, clear, and full of hope. ... more

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