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Blood & Treasure

by Paul Mark & The Van Dorens

  • Digital Album
    Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    "A great disk, "Blood & Treasure" is an early favorite for a year- ending “Best of" column. I highly encourage multiple purchases of the record..”
    - Georgetown Fats, Boston Blues Society
    ""Blood & Treasure"...Electrifying...Exceptional musicianship, witty songwriting, and a unique sound rooted in blues."
    - Blues Revue Magazine
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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    CD version of Paul Mark's 7th collection on Radiation Records, Blood & Treasure.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Blood & Treasure via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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      $14 USD or more 

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(Words/music by P.Mark) The Redwood Forest, that’s just a patch of sticks The Taj Mahal, that's nothing but a stack of bricks And today's headlines, sure sounds like old news Everything is nothing after you The Mona Lisa, she's just a schoolboy's sketch War and Peace, that's just a scribbled-down mess And Pavarotti at the Met? That's just a high school revue Everything is nothing after you I hit the Vegas strip, I wouldn't go twice I ran with the Wall St. Bears That's just punks rolling dice Been to Monte Carlo, that's just bingo and booze Everything is nothing after you I had tea with the queen, she's nothing but a soccer mom I met the President, he's just a white-collar con I sat down with the Pope, I drank with smarter dudes back in school Everything is nothing after you © Last Warning Music. All Rights Reserved.
(Words/music by P. Mark) We never talk any more You don't return my calls Then on the street Your smile is much too polite I tremble in disbelief Don't get me started No, don't get me started 'Cuz it just won't stop Then when I'm out with my friends They ask again and again Where could she be? Don't she know we're all here? I wish you'd never been part of me Now each and every day begins the same way Raise the shade, take a breath and I'm OK But there's a fuse down below Just waiting for a spark It's just waiting and I can't stand it I go out with new friends Try starting all over again Then I hear your name They say she's got another man The rage grabs hold of my soul © Last Warning Music. All Rights Reserved.
Perp Walk 05:09
(Words/music by P.Mark) At the precinct station Or on the courthouse steps Public viewing, checking out the arrest Pull that T-shirt up over your head Cameras and questions Make you wish you were dead They say I'm guilty but maybe I'm not I'll take the odds with the friends that I got Doing the crime or just talking that talk Perp walk We heard your story, we think you're a liar Gonna break your spirit Hold your feet to the fire You might be a sinner or you might be a saint Whether you done it or whether you ain't Media frenzy railroadin’ your ass We're ready to bargain But you better move fast Your chin's up high now Got your pride showing That won't much matter In the place you're going © Last Warning Music. All Rights Reserved.
(Words/music by P.Mark) You might refuse a helping hand You might wave off the hand that feeds you Just to prove that you can Mapping out your legend far as you can see Crossing your I's and dotting all your T's It may look fine on paper But how's it ever gonna happen without Someone like me? How you gonna raise the roof Without stone love down below How you gonna raise the roof If you ain't got stone love down below You might be true to the vision in your eye There ain't a cage that could hold you That could keep this bird from its flight But when the world gets wise And starts to break you down Slings and arrows drag you back to the ground Your soul is hurting And all that's left is pride You're gonna need someone to stand with you Someone by your side © Last Warning Music. All Rights Reserved.
(Words/music by P.Mark) When I was a school boy I was a talking fool The teacher'd snap her ruler and keep me after school She’d say you gotta lotta things to say You speak your mind but your mind's always running away I grew up with ideas, I always had a line I'd lose a job a week telling the boss what's on my mind See I gotta lotta things to say I speak my mind but my mind's always running away I caught a train for Boston, tried to make a few friends They put me off in Hartford with my hat in my hand See I gotta lotta things to say I speak my mind but my mind's always running away Then I met a woman, she read a poem every day I told her that I loved her in a 100 different ways See I gotta lotta things to say I speak my mind but my mind's always running away I held up a bank so I could buy her a ring While talking with the teller they slapped the cuffs on me See I gotta lotta things to say I speak my mind But my mind's always running away The judge said, boy now speak your peace You're headed to the pokey when you finish your speech I said judge, I gotta lotta things to say I speak my mind but my mind's always running away I’ll shout it to the mountains…I’ll shout it to the shores At the end of the day it's just my word against yours See I gotta lotta things to say I speak my mind but my mind's always running away They dragged me from the courthouse They threw me in the can Then I told'em all in jail I was an innocent man See I gotta lotta things to say I speak my mind but my mind's always running away I hunted down that woman when they finally let me out She kissed me saying “we got so much to talk about” See we gotta lotta things to say Let's speak our minds while our minds are running away I told the priest at the altar enough is enough I'm having second thoughts ‘cuz she talks too much See she's gotta lotta, gotta lotta things to say She speaks her mind but her mind's always running away I learned my lesson, learned it there and then I'll tell anyone who'll listen that I'll never talk again See I gotta lotta things to say I speak my mind but my mind's always running away © Last Warning Music. All Rights Reserved.
(Words/music by Sonny Thompson)
(Words/music by P.Mark) Up around New York City Where people are too smart by half A star can rise in the wink of an eye But it can fall twice as fast Feed the machine Never mind what your mama told you about hard work and dreams You wanna shot at the big time? You gotta join the team You gotta get on board And check your brain at the door You gotta feed the machine That promo man said I dig your band And I can get you radio spins I asked how many stations, in how many towns? He said it depends on how much you can spend That print lady swooned, she said I love your groove Your eyes and your soul are so blue But if you don't wear the shoes And the shirts that we choose There ain't a thing we can write about you My tin-eared neighbor knocked on my door And said my guitar playing was a crime I asked him where does a fool Learn to talk like he's cool? He said I read it in The New York Times © Last Warning Music. All Rights Reserved.
(Words/music by P.Mark) Woke up this morning And brushed my teeth with Ben Gay Splashed down my half-shaved face with Listerine Lost ten minutes in driveway cussing out Henry Ford Trying to start the car with my front door key Took out that corner patch of Mrs. Whatsername's roses Dodging a devil squirrel that took me by surprise The police kept askin', How come your ran them red lights? I said your honor, I'm still high Last night I laid down my head Demons dancing round the bed Thought by morning they would surely be gone But in the dawn's early light, much to my surprise The party was still raging on Down at work I sidled up to the front desk Told the receptionist that I wanted her for so long Then I made my way down to corner office Told the boss his comb-over was sitting all wrong Missed my appointments one and all til low and behold I found my watch was telling upside-down time The voice on the phone kept yelling, Why ain't you where you're supposed to be? I said excuse me, I'm still high I met the duchess for dinner and diversion Tucked the table cloth into my pants I said I thought that's what we're doing When she asked me if I wanted to dance When I stood up to relieve my condition Straight to the pavement the entrees did fly She started crying, Why can't we be happy like we used to? I said I don't know about you, but I'm still high... Why don’t you come up and see me sometime? ‘Cuz I’m here And I’m still high © Last Warning Music. All Rights Reserved.
(Words/music by P.Mark) I'd waltz through a den of lions Just to prove that my love for you is true For you I would cross the midday desert Swim across the salty sea blue I'd face down the world's wildest army And brand them a yellow pack of fools I most certainly would, but today is no good See I'm wearing the wrong pair of shoes I'd slog through the swamps of Louisiana High step through the muddy delta too Stand tall in Macy's front window And profess my unending love for you I'd parade up the steps of St. Joseph's And tell the padre he's got something to do I'll pledge my solemn vow, but tomorrow not now 'Cuz I'm wearing the wrong pair of shoes No mountain's beyond my ambition Just knowing that you are at the top No marathon's beyond my condition My thirst for you just won't stop I'd give you everything and tomorrow But I fear a fashion faux pas We'll walk like lovers do But today it's no can do I'm wearing the wrong pair of shoes Forever you’ll be mine, can we do it another time? I’m wearing the wrong pair of shoes © Last Warning Music. All Rights Reserved.
(Words/music by P.Mark) I'll paint you a picture Of a land far away Never been there myself But who's checking these days? Got no knack for color or line but when It's finished they'll all say He's done it again Extraordinary times mean extraordinary measures Morning coffee is stirred with blood and treasure We'll claim to see diamonds in a handful of dirt And keep the light from all our dreams I'll sing you a song About a tribal rainmaker Don't know anyone like that But I do read the papers When the chorus comes round We'll all sing out as one And though clouds are a mystery You'll see how it's done I'll write you a story About a fine little war Though I never marched in battle Or fired a gun before And when victory's behind us And the doubters proved wrong We'll explain to our children How we were right all along I'll build you a castle Of words and ideas That only the righteous and the lonely can hear We'll leave our doors wide open For those without ears For without the faithless we sure wouldn't be here © Last Warning Music. All Rights Reserved.
Ruff House 04:00
(Music by P.Mark)


"A positive musical encyclopedia of roots music that sounds and feels contemporary yet somehow sounds from another era...quite an album."
- Toxic Pete, U.K.
“Ear candy worth seeking out: "Lotta Things to Say" …You have to hear the punch lines for yourself!”
- Eartaste, U.K.

The beat goes on..."Blood & Treasure" is the highly-anticipated follow-up to Mark’s celebrated 2006 release "Trick Fiction". Barroom tested and road-weary tuff, the band weaves stellar songwriting and a smashing live band sound with blithe disregard for the tepid conformity of today’s corporate music playlists. The new release builds on Paul Mark’s word-of-mouth legacy with a live, no-holds-barred roots rock sound. This is emotional, thinking-person’s music that overlays a contemporary singer/songwriter sensibility on to the Americana legacy of blues, soul and raucous rock’n roll.

Cut in Memphis, Tennessee at legendary Ardent Studios, "Blood & Treasure" was co-produced by Paul Mark and Jeff Powell (Big Star, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Afghan Whigs, B.B. King, The Bottle Rockets). This is Mark’s seventh CD on the NYC-based indie label Radiation Records.


released January 1, 2008

Produced by Paul Mark and Jeff Powell
Recorded and mixed at Ardent Studios, Memphis TN
Mixed by Paul Mark and Jeff Powell
Assistant engineer: Lucas Peterson
Mastered by Scott Hull, NYC

James Strain - Bass
Harry Peel - Drums
Rick Steff - Hammond organ, piano
Susan Marshall, Jackie Johnson - Background vocals
P.Mark - Vocals, guitar, piano, harmonica, percussion


all rights reserved



Paul Mark & The Van Dorens New York, New York

Triple-threat songwriter-musician-producer Paul Mark has been mystifying critics and barflies for decades. With a striking lyrical edge and an encyclopedic facility with American roots music, NYC-based Paul Mark has built a top-drawer original song catalog that tugs on the ears of the literary as well as the liquidated. Mark is principal owner of Radiation Records. ... more

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