5 track album
With the release of the Vermilion Hymns, Stephen Billeaud slowly walks down the left aisle before making the sign of the cross and taking a seat, leaving a little room for love. Van Morrison, Brian Eno, and David Egan walk into a church. The priest thanks everyone for coming and invites you to take your seat. He announces that Grand Chenier was just elected as Graceland's newest sister city. Diamonds, apparently from the soles of her shoes, were found in a canefield off the Mermentau River. The second coming is nigh but that's alright because the magnolia tree in front of Mawmaw Springsteen's is tall and strong from all those pas bons sworn into the morning air. It's reported on good faith that Julie Williams dances every Sunday evening in the minds of every bachelor (and then some). In the small of her back, in the palm of his hand, is hidden the spoils of a courir, une petite poulette, happy as can be. The world's second and third best historians have given up and surmised that the album must have been christened by Rev. Eno. We all hum along—riding in the back of an ATV along the banks of a rice pond with a spot light watching for bullfrogs—all hum along to the Vermilion Hymns. The sun sets behind mon fils and you can't help but cry a little because even though it's over you realize that's not at all what you really wanted but you were too wrapped up in everything all the time to realize it. Sorry, ma. Sorry, pa. Wish I had been better, but you don't have to worry 'bout nothin' no more. Vous aurez toujours l'amour.