Archive for the ‘Lyrics’ Category

The Ancient Texts

Wednesday, April 6th, 2011

Burn them, said the preacher man, but someone laid these screeds to rest inside an old tire swing, covered up with old vines.

overload

overload
the lines are down
overload
the dam is blown

theres a dark side to the sky
but there is a light side too
which side are you betting on
what are you gonna do

overload
the lines are down
overload
the dam is blown

there really is no end
when youre listening to the wind
what’s it coming to?
when is this thing blowing through?

overload
the lines are down
overload
the dam is blown

we’re racing through the hours
between conflicting powers
it’s hard to win this game
maybe the wind’s to blame
but if i doubt,
you will doubt
you wont know to hear my shout

overload
the lines are down
overload
the dam is blown

overload
the lines are down
overload
the waters brown

princess

it’s a million years
since you been around
i saw you walking last spring
in your white velvet gown
i saw you in the hothouse
putting roses on ice
but princess
who you sleeping with tonight

hey princess who you sleeping with tonight
as i sit here with my can of warm beer
making love to the moonlight

you tell me the things
that i cant forget
your pockets are full of…
let me guess
you long for that hothouse
but you look to the sky
hey princess
who you sleeping with tonight

hey princess who you sleeping with tonight
as i sit here with my can of warm beer
making love to the moonlight

hey little princess
you forgot where you came from
where northern lights shine
on rivers of wine
and you banged your favorite drum
alone on the playground
with your feet on fire
you dont belong in that hothouse
you should grow wild

hey princess who you sleeping with tonight
as i sit here with my can of warm beer
making love to the moonlight

hey princess who you sleeping with tonight
as i sit here with my can of warm beer
making love to the moonlight

were you cultivated or did you grow wild?

flakes

i’ll remember you as i knew you last winter
you came out of nowhere
snowflakes fell like headless angels
and they melted in your hair

i still feel you shiver in the night
like a dream i never realized
it’s torture just to know that you’re not mine

livings free
but livings lost to time
and so are we
as alive as any flakes in the fire

we’ll burn to be what we dream of
we’re hidden in the fire
if I can stand the heat of your hand
we’ll climb on heaven’s pyre

livings free
but livings lost to time
and so are we
as alive as any flakes in the fire

ivy dell

i was born in ivy
destined to die
close to the old treeline
on the end of my vine
so i packed my bags baby
and stepped out for a look
over the pines, the long long pines
over mountains I flew

i knew that i made one big mistake
when i thought things would work out so well
i knew that i made on big mistake
the day i left ivy dell

ivy still winds
through the hills of my mind
i call across mountains
and hear my own name
it says oh baby oh darling
you were born to stay
how can you leave me this way?

ivy cradles my head
and creeps towards my heart
with the lean of the willow tree
she tears it apart
she shuts my eyes, baby
and wraps up my hands
like the wind from a cloud
she carries me back

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Living In A Ghost Town

Friday, March 18th, 2011

This isn’t Ivy, this is some kind of ghost town, and every ghost seems to have an opinion about the way it’s been kept up. If I hear that crazy old lady in the spectacles bitch at me one more time about her damn broken windows, I won’t even pretend to feed her. I didn’t come all this way to be a tinker to the undead, and it’s a waste of good fried noodles regardless.

living in your heart

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you know its hard
living in your heart
living in your heart

its no dream house we live in
the walls of your heart are tilting
sometimes its too dark for seeing
maybe this whole heart is broken

and when the water drips in
could be the roof is leaking
could be tears you cant fence in
maybe this whole heart is broken

you know its hard
living in your heart
living in your heart

and whem the sun keeps shining
through falling good intentions
theres things that we never mention
maybe this whole heart is broken

you know its hard
living in your heart
living in your heart

its hard to sleep
in the rain and the heat
but there you are beside me
in this house of dreaming
it seems like
your heart is still beating

you know its hard
living in your heart
living in your heart

oh its hard
living in your heart
living in your heart

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And the Horse You Rode In On

Sunday, February 27th, 2011

Now we’ve had cars, trucks, trains, and now a horse. That’s what they call progress.

Up There:

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this is the part that you do not eat

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Nobody Here is From Here

Sunday, February 27th, 2011

This one dude drove by so fast all I saw was mud flying up.

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local boy

i dont want to be a local boy
i dont want to be that dude
i dont want to be a local boy
i dont wanna be like you

im heading home
my wheels are four by four down on the road
im living life
between the lines
to the sound of my radio

i dont want to be a local boy
i dont want to be that dude
i dont want to be a local boy
i dont wanna be like you

the years roll by
I’m drinking every night until the well runs dry
I’ll stay down here
one more year
laying low and gettng high

i dont want to be a local boy
i dont want to be that dude
i dont want to be a local boy
i dont wanna be like you

so just one more
because i cant find my keys or find the door
im hungry now
but I dont know how
and i dont know what for

Gotta get out get out get out get out get out
Put my wheel against a wall
Get out get out get out get out get out
I’ll run my tank on alcohol!

My daddy drank away his legs
A local boy until he hit the dregs
I’m not going out that way
Gotta get out get out get out get out get out
Get out

i dont want to be a local boy
i dont want to be that dude
i dont want to be a local boy
i dont wanna be like you

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Scattered Leaves

Monday, February 21st, 2011

death train

baby ill use these hands for work
baby i will work your love
but i wont fold them up to pray
i aint going down that way

you say I’m running on the railway to hell
But I cant hear the whistle howl
or the ringing of the bell

i’m sleeping good on a death train
if you live like a dog, you’ll die on a chain
sleeping good on a death train
rolling on

look at the powdered preacher man
finger pointing right at me
sweatin and stooping in his suit
he just wants to be the one
sleeping next to you

sleeping good on a death train
if you live like a dog, you’ll die on a chain
sleeping good on a death train
rolling on

i’m sleeping good on a death train
if i cant stand tall ill be running in the rain
sleeping good on a death train
rolling on and on again

and i think im going home
and i wonder what its like
and im not crying in this cattle car
just got some smoke in my eyes

you say I’m running on the railway to hell
But I cant hear the whistle howl
or the ringing of the bell

i’m sleeping good on a death train
if you live like a dog, you’ll die on a chain
sleeping good on a death train
rolling on

i’m sleeping good on a death train
if i cant stand tall ill be running in the rain
sleeping good on a death train
rolling on and on again

up there

if you get up there
in the saddle
grab the reins and dont let go
if you get up there
just keep riding
ride until your thrown

if you believe
if you want to be free
if you get up there
you will be

past the treeline
up the hillside
ride until youre gone
just a hoof beat
just a heart beat
and there is no voice but your own

if you believe
if you want to be free
if you get up there
you will be

no more green pasture, there’s only sky
theres only hills to climb

just a hoof beat
just a heart beat
and there is no voice but your own
until there is no voice left but your own

if you believe
if you want to be free
if you get up there
you will be
you will be
you will

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Sweet

Sunday, February 20th, 2011

Sweet water dripping from a vine on one day of thaw. I see my reflection in an icy pool and have to wonder, if there were anyone here at all, what they would see.

The heavy tires throw up frost and slush. The light is on in the window, the sign says open.

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sweet on me

she’s sweet on me
like honey on bread
she’s sweet on me
sweet in my head

sweet like the sugar
that takes the edge off black coffee
at two in the morning
with the breakfast she brings me

she’s sweet on me
like honey on my bread
she’s sweet on me
sweet in my head

sweet like the syrup
on the edge of my table knife
we’re all alone in the diner
she’s quick and she’s quiet

and I’m just rolling through
I leave it all on the check for you
theres rain on my window
there’s a tape in the deck
the sweetest songs are the best

she’s sweet on me
like honey on my bread
she’s sweet on me
sweet in my head

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The Russian’s Tale

Tuesday, March 16th, 2010

There’s this Russian guy, he lives in the old defunct gas station, he must have come over with the Confucian. His name is Max, and when I visited him, he assured me that he stood astride the Berlin Wall with a pickaxe as that wall fell beneath him, and he shared a little story about what really brought about the fall of the Soviet Union…

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Max then told me he believes history is made by individuals eating other individuals. I then left.

Letter from Yeltsin to Gorbachev, 1991

im sorry gorby but youre gonna hafta leave
take your ugly wife and your big important party
take down your flag, see, mine’s red white and blue
here’s your marching orders for you

all I said was that she was greedy like a vole
and all your goodwill was falling down the hole
and I told Vladimir she had an ass like a house
and that the people want a little mouse

screw your demotion, gorby, i’ll get my revenge
ill be president and i’ll drink all day again
like when I worked on houses for the proletariat
all the toilets worked in my oblast

i kept a secret from myself since ’32
now I can build the houses, gorby, here’s one for you
not unlike the one your party built for my dad
when he got back from the gulag

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A Million Waves

Monday, March 15th, 2010

And this man, also from some strange clime or time, crossed a million waves to be here, to sing to me, him alone, it seems, and unlike the trailer man and the chinese passenger, his brow was light. Perhaps he still gazed upon the stars.

A Million Waves:

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the waves break on the sides
gotta keep the sail wide
then im rocked for a million miles
of endless waves and my heart says
that is all that awaits

a sleeping bag around me
i guess ill sing my self to sleep
old tin cans rattling
and ancient whispers
keep me breathing

and my heart beating
keeps me wise and pulling lines
in the light of the sun
in the morning

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Oh, Gunpowder

Monday, March 15th, 2010

A stranger, not from here at all, a man of foreign visage and demeanor, with a permanent crease on his brow, but a fellow scientist I gathered.

Oh, Gunpowder:

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they went looking for the essence of life
did they find it?
they went looking for the balance of everything
did they find it?

sulfur
saltpeter
a paperweight
and honey

sulfur
saltpeter
a paperweight
and honey

they went looking for the origin
did they find it
in the beginning was the explosion
did they find it?
oh gunpowder
you are forever

sulfur
saltpeter
a paperweight
and honey

sulfur
saltpeter
a paperweight
and honey

they went looking for immortality
did they find it?
they went looking for perfect morality
did they find it?
oh gunpowder
they found you, oh gunpowder
we killed each other
and set each other free
and the fireworks went flying

sulfur
saltpeter
a paperweight
and honey

sulfur
saltpeter
a paperweight
and honey

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X Rayed Rose

Monday, March 15th, 2010

What a sad shell of a man, an empty shell, and I shuddered to hear his song.

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then theyre gonna put you in the tunnel
then theyre gonna lie you on the table
what am i gonna say to your mom
shes gonna think that its my fault

x rayed rose
x rayed rose
x rayed rose
x rayed rose

then theyre gonna stick you with a needle
then theyre gonna cut your pretty petals
then theyre gonna prune your thorns
baby are you gonna be reborn
baby are you gonna be reborn

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Some Disenchanted Morning

Monday, March 15th, 2010

The first inhabitant of Wahoo was pretty straighforward, the local type, lots of those guys in these parts. Did I know, before he opened his mouth to sing, he lived in a big old RV?

Some Disenchanted Morning:

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i’ve been stuck in this old trailer
in the darkness and the rain
down by the field where i met her
at the edge of the hay
i spun my wheels into the mud
it raining hard and im stuck real good

she told me I missed all of my chances
and i wont get any more
in a cold trailer with no romances
waiting at my front door
all the powers down tonight
the water’s coming up over the dike

some disenchanted morning out on the sea
my door is wide open will you run into me
some disenchanted morning here’s hoping
your door is wide open come on baby
come on baby
come on baby

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Fires On The Beach

Sunday, March 7th, 2010

This is a newer recording of a very very very very VERY old song. I dropped a verse, did some spit and shine, and here it is. More High School Musical. This was recorded in Glorious Mono then

S T E R E O I Z E D

You’ll just have to use your imagination for the kick ass guitar solo.

Fires On The Beach:

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When the afternoon gets too deep for me
Let’s go outside and meet the sea
Tonight we’ll build a fire on the beach

When we can join in
With the other kids
Let’s kick our feet like dying swans

And fall out of reach
And laugh and yawn
Shake your body, baby
Like it’s all that you’ve got
Tonight we’ll build a little fire on the beach

Lay down with me
Wrapped in a sheet
You and me, we got time enough to dream
Of monarch butterflies
That dance across the dawn
When the chrysalis is gone
Can’t you hear their song?

When the afternoon gets too deep
Let’s go outside and meet the sea

Tonight we’ll build a fire on the beach

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Maybe I Can Catch A Flight…

Thursday, February 4th, 2010

(I think this might be more of a Mondokhan song, but here you go…)

my last flight

running late for a paper plane
jet lag comin back again
superhero of the runaway
saving time i lost today

check my bags
i’m home tonight
im holding on tight
for my last flight

flying kites in a mindstorm
falling back on a cruciform
cut the string and rock and roll
wait for me, im halfway home

sometimes i get so high
i cant come down
sometimes i see you burning on the ground
sometimes i believe, sometimes i forget
I took a ride up on a rainbow
and lost my grip

check my bags
i’m home tonight
im holding on tight
for my last flight

In the symmetric turbulent wake
of a flat paper plate
today a distinguished scientist has made
the discovery of rain
falling on his face

(One of these lines is a throwaway… can you guess which one?)

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Puppy Love

Thursday, January 21st, 2010

(Let’s pretend I found this lyric by the side of the road – on a page torn from a diary, crossed out, names scribbled over a hundred times with tight little circles, wadded up, stomped on, and left in the gravel and mud.)

“no more hearts to break”

hearts of gold get sold
hearts of fire fade
all the young hearts are getting old
and light hearts blow away

you were the first to say OK
i took your hand so i did not feel so strange

but sometimes a flower blooms
it spreads its petals and just runs out of room

hearts of gold get sold
hearts of fire fade
the young hearts are getting old
and light hearts blow away

where is the heartache
when theres no more love to take
cross your heart and hope to die
theres no more hearts to break

sometimes a flower blooms
it spreads its petals and just runs out of room

(“Ivy Dell”? More like “High School Musical”. Should I drown in vomit or just record the thing and be done with it? I sort of like the refrain bits. It’s sort of like a ‘fuck you’ greeting card.)

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Under the Leaves…

Wednesday, January 20th, 2010

(I just don’t know that this marks the way to Ivy. Maybe this is some other project altogether, must make a note in my journal…)

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wonderful leaves turning gold, turning brown
wonderful leaves are falling down

we live in the leaves
and hear the roots singing
we’re shaking like bees
we set the leaves tumbling

wonderful leaves spinning round spinning round
will we leave them on the ground

the roots in my heart
but the year gets long
let me show lost ages
delicate and crumbling pages

wonderful leaves turning gold, turning brown
wonderful leaves are falling down

sometimes its spring sometimes its fall
beautful fall
ill get the leaves and keep them all

wonderful leaves turning gold, turning brown
wonderful leaves are falling down

wonderful leaves spinning round spinning round
will we leave them on the ground

(Sort of hopeful and sad at the same time?)

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While Walking In The Woods, By A River…

Wednesday, January 20th, 2010

(Plenty of trees and rivers in these parts…)

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Little Milton’s Repose

through your charnel houses high
you’ll return to the sky
from fields hung high with fire
from the day and from the night
everyone returns
if you run
you will learn

down rivers green with gold
if you’re young if you’re old
to your scattered bodies go
you’ll return to your home
everyone will return
if you swim
or if you burn
everyone returns

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A Shit Hole?

Wednesday, January 20th, 2010

(Is this from a disgruntled resident of Ivy Dell, or am I on the wrong track altogether?)

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people come to my shithole
they never put it down
people like this shithole
spend the day in a shit hole town

people come to my shithole
they shit on the streets
i’m cleaning my shithole
everybody gotta have a dream

rednecks with radios look like rodeo clowns
i live in a shithole
i live in a shithole town

look around the shithole
one time the river was running
wipe your feet on the shithole
it was running from you and me

one time in the shithole
in the graveyard me and you
someplace good not a shithole
I just want to feel good good good

i live in a shithole
shit all over me
shit all over me
i live in a shithole
shit all over me
shit all over me
shit all over me

Could be Ivy Dell Trailer Park…

(I stuck a couple of mics out on the porch to get the rain and door sounds, and proved that the mics could get moderately wet and be simultaneously dropped and still function at one hundred percent. My newer Chinese mics might not fare so well, though…)

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Goatman Demo

Wednesday, January 20th, 2010

(Trying to get a bnetter examination of the Goatman song. With honest, genuine unsimulated crickets!)

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i hear the goatman calling
i hear the goatman calling
he is calling you
he is calling you

i remember running by the river
i remember drowning in forgiveness
we’ll still shed our snakeskins
we’ll ride that river til its red
we’ll leave our little wind
down at the edge

i remember what you said
some things are barren but not dead
baby forgive me, make it all my fault
because my whole life
wherever i was
i wanted to be gone
except for that once

i hear the goatman calling
i hear the goatman calling
he is calling you
he is calling you

(Is this from Ivy Dell? GOATMEN?? I’m starting to think it might not be the lost paradise that people say…)

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Goldmine Lyrics

Sunday, January 17th, 2010

goldmine

if all i had was gold
i could buy you this mountain
but i think i sold my soul
for the hole that im down in
something keeps pushing me
i keep on digging deeper
baby would you be so cold
if all i had was gold

if all i had was gold
would you be happy
in a mansion, all alone
trying to trap me
something keeps pushing me
i keep on digging deeper
baby would you be so cold
if all i had was gold

all i got is sunrise
a thousand days of sunrise
and next tries and white lies
and sun rise after sun rise
that’s my life

all i got is sunrise
warm days of endless sunrise
whatevers there behind the glare -
it’s all mine

if all i had was gold
i could buy you this mountain
but i think i sold my soul
for the hole that im down in
something keeps pushing me
i keep on digging deeper
baby would you be so cold
if all i had was gold

(I don’t know if this one’s quite up to snuff, also, the chords are a little sunny for me to take seriously. Are there gold mines in Ivy? I was thinking more along the lines of coal, but if you change this lyric it doesn’t make any sense. Mayhaps a guano mine?)

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Even When The Road is Gone

Saturday, January 16th, 2010

here is a lyric:

even when the road is gone
they still walk the road
past the old brokedown house by the gulley
in a little town in the valley

the grass grows on the old road we walked along
critters crawl and children stumble
and the wall that held the treeline – it aint so strong
the stones fall out where mortar crumbles

even when the road is gone
they still walk on the road
past the old brokedown house by the gulley
in a little town in the valley

they decided they dont need the road no more
georgie ray dont come to cut weeds
but my aunt sheila – she wont take the long way to the store
on sunday shes beneath magnolia trees

can you hear laughter
now and hereafter
in the black gravel dawn
even when the road is gone

even when the road is gone
they still walk on the road
past the old brokedown house by the gulley
in my little town in the valley

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