|Vocals, Guitar:||John K. Samson|
|Guitar, Vocals:||Stephen Carroll|
Morning bright, rise. Go over your lines. Iron your carefully crafted disguise. We'd all like to sing. It's easy to sigh; to sprinkle a handful or plausible lies. Our buildings will rise, poke out our own eyes. Publicly smile and privately frown. A weeping reprise. Please hear my cries; I'd like to pull just this one building down. So turn off the sky. Head in my hands. Night keep me warm. White window-sill. Blinded by heart. Cut my hair short. "Eyeless in Gaza with the slaves at the mill."
Indie rock heroes The Weakerthans new DVD-CD Live at the Burton Cummings Theatre, out now on Epitaph Records, offers a jubilant testament to the …