Archive for June, 2013

Once More, With Feeling

Tuesday, June 25th, 2013

Blue Horizon:

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Jesus Won’t Be Mad:

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Needle:

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Last Flight:

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Even When the Road Has Gone:

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Death Train:

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Princess:

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The End

Saturday, June 22nd, 2013

(End of Mondo P. Khan’s Search for Ivy Dell.

Read from Beginning.)

Hear new songs at:

Susurrations from the Hive

Summer Solstice

Saturday, June 22nd, 2013

It’s OK. They only wanted me to be in their band. I play trumpet now. I’m on fire.

(Happy Solstice Everyone!)

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(Lyric with chords:)

in the santa monica sun

c                                 g
parents watch and children wade
am                             g
in the santa monica sun
c                                g
gradually the smiles fade
am                            g
in the santa monica sun
am                g            c
in the santa monica sun

c                               g
shes got everything all OK
c                                                           g
on the beach on the blanket with a tight little j
am                     g
and a bottle of blue nun
am                g            c
in the santa monica sun

dont fall asleep santa monica babe
on the beach on the blanket with a cherry cheesecake
youll get burned and miss the fun
in the santa monica sun

f                                                 c
how she grew in that pool of gold
f                                                 c
she should never leave that fold
am                                    f
to interpret struggle or misery
c
she is raised to be
g
the special one
f
glowing
am                g           f
in the santa monica sun
c

Blood Ritual

Saturday, June 22nd, 2013

I ran back to my camp. Bent over my journal, someone came up behind me and hit me in the back of my head.

I fell over, stunned, there was blood all over the place,

I looked up and it was them! Them! They were hovering over me, muttering, not muttering, singing. The ritual had begun.

Take Me With You

Saturday, June 22nd, 2013

I’ve always wanted to find a place like this.

Take me with you (when you go)

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take me with you when you go
we don’t ever ever have to come home
take me with you when you go
there’s a white gate by the road

I was working on the new houses
when I was done I got on the bus
yeah I helped build those new houses
but not a one of them’s for us

take me with you when you go
we don’t ever ever have to come home
take me with you when you go
there’s a white gate by the road

skid row is just another apartment
look out the window at the tree
sit inside or go out on the balcony
just forget about being free

take me with you when you go
we don’t ever ever have to come home
take me with you when you go
where the wild flowers grow

all these places to live are the same
all the things to give you, they’re all the same
all the things to eat all the things that make me
laugh or cry, they’re all the same and cost the same
and lay the same amount out of our reach

and this is what they’re calling ‘liberty’?
fuck them
we ain’t free

there’s a white gate through the trees
falling down and rickety
vines creep across the fence
open it wide and go in

take me with you when you go
we don’t ever ever have to come home
take me with you when you go
there’s a white gate by the road

Thorazine Orpheus

Saturday, June 22nd, 2013

All that was left for it was to get some info from the kid. He’d wandered back to his car, was trying to start it, and I watched him fail. He started to crash out in the back seat.

‘Look so what.’ he turned away from me. ‘We burned the fucking place down. Everything was all good until that asshole Thorazine Orpheus came to play, showed us up and stole all our women. We were so embarrassed  we changed the name of the damn town.’

I couldn’t believe my ears. I’d been in Ivy all along!

Jesus Won’t Be Mad:

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Come to think of it, I’ve always suspected something like that.

Thorazine Orpheus:

No Dogs Allowed

Saturday, June 22nd, 2013

The Goat Man just looked at me with suspicion, and stared out the window at his goats. Though he had sung to me so beautifully before, it was clear I would get nothing from him now. He dismissed me, saying he had lots of shaving to do.

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Dog Don’t Talk

Dogs don’t talk
And dogs don’t think
Who knows why those doggies
Do the doggy thing?
Cuz dogs don’t talk.

I do have feelings
I do care alot
I care so much
That I forgot

I do have a soul
I do too have a soul
I keep it on the floor
Inside of a bowl

And I’m walking through my life
and everyhing’s fine

Dogs don’t talk
And dogs don’t think
Who knows why those doggies
do the doggy thing?
Cuz dogs don’t talk.

Chasing the Dragon

Saturday, June 22nd, 2013

The Confucian was philosophical. ‘Well, you have to understand…’, he said.

It turns out they were all in a band. The Confucian showed me his instruments, in his kitchen:

Do those really belong in a polka band, I wondered?

As for the lyrics, he said he couldn’t remember, and I’d have to visit the goatman who lived in the RV, he wrote all the lyrics.

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Army

If I could find my army
I could save the world
If I could find my army
I swear that I could

If I could find my army
I’d fight for the rights of man
And write up all the wrongs
But I think my army’s gone

I saw seven billion children
Crawling on their knees
Burning in the jungle
Fire flying through the trees

And if I could find my army
Rising from the sea
They’d fall upon the shore
And wash the cities clean

It happened in the summer
A long time ago
By the time that it was over
We were crying on the phone
If I could find my army
I’d tell them in a letter
Now I’m thinking maybe
It was all for the better

Army of Rus

Saturday, June 22nd, 2013

So I rushed to see the Russian, asking him excitedly about Roscoes and the missing songs. I think I interrupted him doing something, I noticed an accordion shoved hastily under a chair.

“Waht, you don’ wan’ gasoline?”

I asked him again about Roscoes. He flew into a rage, broke his Vodka bottle, and came at me with it.

“Nobody goes there, you unnerstan’! Nobody!”

I managed to escape with a few scratches. Maybe I’d have better luck with the Chinaman.

Something ominous is going on here.

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Safari

There’s boys on my savannah
My trigger finger’s itchin’ yeah
Gonna get me a tailfeather
I’m going on safari yeah

I’m obliged to my savannah
Watching the herds graze
If the river rise today
I hope my family gets away

I’ll call my wife tomorrow
Do the children like the toys?
Then there’s nothing left to talk about.
I won’t talk about these dead boys.

I know what they did.
They know what they did.
Gonna hunt them down, safari yeah.

My life is flat like savannah.
It’s hard to understand it
when it lays across my heart, feather light
This boy is just a man.

More Clues

Saturday, June 22nd, 2013

It seems like I overlooked some crucial evidence. In the cassette case for the tape I found in the ashes of Roscoe’s Beer Barrel, I’d found a folded up piece of paper with all the lyrics written on it in VERY tiny lettering. The thing is, there are some lyrics for songs that aren’t on the tape. I can’t believe that I missed these, this could be the answer I’ve been looking for!

Dog Don’t Talk

Dogs don’t talk
And dogs don’t think
Who knows why those doggies
Do the doggy thing?
Cuz dogs don’t talk.

I do have feelings
I do care alot
I care so much
That I forgot

I do have a soul
I do too have a soul
I keep it on the floor
Inside of a bowl

And I’m walking through my life
and everyhing’s fine

Dogs don’t talk
And dogs don’t think
Who knows why those doggies
do the doggy thing?
Cuz dogs don’t talk.

Jesus Won’t Be Mad

We’ve only got a little while
If you’re not too good for me
Come on baby smile
Jesus won’t be mad
Jesus won’t be mad

All you pain makes you think too much
And baby that’s too bad
Come on baby smile
Jesus won’t be mad
Jesus won’t be mad

Cuz if Jesus really loves you
He loves all the things you do
And all the experiences you have had
Jesus won’t be mad
Jesus won’t be mad
Jesus…
Jesus…
Jesus…

 

Diamond

Saturday, June 22nd, 2013

Out in the field below the moutain, I found strange lines and markings – so ancient, it looked as if the chalk had come up out of the ground, as if lines were drawn without human hand. They were kind of crooked, thin then wide, the remains of some primordial ritual manifesting itself, a blind force from before time?

If I stood in the middle of the design, what would become of me?

It turns out it’s just an old baseball feild. I sat in the bleachers and made popcorn out of dirt.

(down to one mic. have used acoustic pickup instead on some songs. reaching the end of this I think)

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(oops! that was asswards! i fixed it:)

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This entire artifact appears to have been assembled from broken bits.

The Ballad of One-Eyed Jack, the One Eyed Baseball Player

One Eyed Jack,
You hit the ball and the bat cracked
Doesn’t matter now if you run,
One Eyed Jack.

One Eyed Jack,
You’re King of the Cards in the back room.
Now they all say you should just do that,
One Eyed Jack.

Shuffle and spit
Listen for the pitch
ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha
You’ve come to far
To get beat by ball
ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha
One Eyed Jack,
Squint into the stands
One Eyed Jack,
They’re showing you their hands

One Eyed Jack,
Winning back all your chips, man,
Too bad you can’t play ball like that,
One Eyed Jack

Life’s like that,
That’s the diamond on the plate –
You get one swing and that’s your fate,
One Eyed Jack

Gotta think big
You got a one base hit
ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha
Your feet are on fire
But your swing goes wild
ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha
One Eyed Jack,
Keep one eye on the ball.
One Eyed Jack –
Watch the shadow fall.

One Eyed Jack,
The One-Eyed masturbator –
You’re playing the wrong game,
One Eyed Jack!

But in the heart of one eyed Jack,
There’s a boy and a ball.
Send it over the wall,
One Eyed Jack.