The Book of Slaw: Songs from My Great Aunt Coleslaw (Chapter III)

by Elk Minister

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"The Year of The Elk is in danger. At this precise hour, The Book of Slaw: Songs from My Great Aunt Coleslaw (Chapter III) remains unreleased in streaming stores due to editorial discretion at my online distributor. The final reason is that Chapter III does not comply with the spirit of the distributor, and is in fact not music.
Perhaps the distributor is not aware that My Great Aunt Coleslaw invented the Mayaboard, which is used exclusively on The Book of Slaw. The sadness I am feeling I have never felt before in my entire life.
What this means is that Chapter III, my sixth album this year, is only available via Bandcamp. This limits the reach of the music and words of My Great Aunt Coleslaw to her millions of fans. 
I am not sure what this means as it relates to The Year of The Elk. My Great Aunt Coleslaw proposed a strict schedule for the 26 releases, and I am not sure what this will do to the 28 day, 13 month calendar. This could alter the space-time continuum in a way I am not qualified to speak about...
I hope you follow the link below and check out the album that was refused distribution for editorial discretion."


released March 24, 2018


all rights reserved



Elk Minister Denver, Colorado

Elk Minister was born in a log cabin deep in the forest of the upstate region. While being raised by his mother and his Uncle Radcliffe, Elk Minister developed an affinity and love towards music, philosophy, and science. At age seven, Elk Minister was writing and recording his own songs on a homemade tape recorder built by his uncle. In 1999, he wrote an opera with his imaginary friend Gerald. ... more

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Track Name: The Book of Slaw: Songs from My Great Aunt Coleslaw (Chapter III)
bewildered and confused
i crawled onto the floor, not sure where i was going.
grabbing on to the frills of the carpet
I carried myself towards the door,

down the stairs.
i broke the banister
I remember falling
crying myself to

i remember
i remember

its not me but someone else who was here before

do you remember?
do you remember?

variations over time
as the clock stops
want to fix it
but i cant find the key

im in a box on a shelf two steps from the closet
my grand mother use to live there but now she is gone
theres a fairway
and not to be seen
until the man in the pointed hat bring attention to the millions and millions
of displaced individual messages which are somehow
still tolerated by a length of the population divided by the importance of a certain memory

not very fair indeed
but what to do to control the certain time of lives

the nonsmoker who started for fun
the certain someone who had always wanted to always be one
and made everyone laugh
now look at her

the crawling melon that has not done something remarkable in their entire life
shadows what it is
and i will ask one question for the great snail of graham
to resolution of desert dreams

you can tell from the sweat on the lips
you can tell from the fear on the sweat
you can tell
you can tell

sweet mother to all holy tongues of this place
to be confused for the times of reluctancy
it has been replaced
by feelings of positivity
the likes of which have not been seen in nearly ten thousands years
long before man was a footprint on his own existence

the king of golden crowns
to pharaohs
to queens unbound

consonant clouds victims of their own desires

hats of many colors and symbols representing symbolic excellence
what a world we live in
what a world
what a world

geometric shapes can trigger such emotions of admiration or hostility in a matter of mere seconds

the world world never be the same without it
because of the never ending wilderness that is chased by the lions
over logs in the fog of the long wilderness

it may very well be worth it though
all of the memories you will have
ll the thoughts you have the thought
though gold is no more
the days of treasure have been mismatched like a reptile that has melted on the soil of his skin
in a shattered concrete statue of past and future memories


3 horned heroes to kings of queens
and at the feet of popularity
and the dissonance will always rise a child who refuses to raise its hand

the disciple of imagination
is enwrapped in sugary futures
and wrapped in plastic adversity

to be climbing while carrying buckets of milk water
choking on the fat of skim pills
i remember
i remember

the blue circles
and the long pin stretching outward
reaching out for me
pulling me out
making sure that am okay
when i haven’t drowned
im gonna be new again
gonna be a new boy

im gonna be new again
with my eyes running from side to side as i topple over
spitting fluid out of a mouth composed entirely of a biological system
that few people alive or dead are able to explain to someone who has a very
small amount of knowledge in science

it not my fault or yours just a truth in a world where science is deemed as satanic absolutism
not one person reaching out to lend their helping hands of good
they were cut off years ago by a world that was not expected

it was negated
self ignored ignorance
settle me up
sign me up

with my eyes closed and my lips sealed i laid on back

i imagined it different really
not the way i had expected it

i waited
i didn’t know what to do

perhaps if i had done things differently

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