Summer Solstice

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

(Happy Solstice Everyone!)

(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

Take Me With You

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

Take me with you (when you go)

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

Chasing the Dragon

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.

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

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.

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

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

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)

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

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.

Angel

I’ve noticed a distinct lack of women around here – there’s like, none.

From what the natives tell me, even if you made it to Texas, there were perils. Either that’s true or they are seriously trying to cover something up.

P.S., Pain

Sacred Angel, cigarette stained,
You look so pretty in the dirty city
Making friends with Pain
But Pain is always a stranger

He’s coming round every corner
Headlights getting warmer
Sticking out like a foreigner
Pain is always a stranger

Torn up barby doll baby, wrapped in grace
You’re loving life from the other side
Flying high with Pain

Take off your ring
Strap on your wings
He will shout from above
Somebody owes him love
He will laugh at you
Until he’s blue
That is what he’ll do
Because Pain is always a stranger.

Bottle Caps

There was a bar or honkey-tonk here at one time, you can still see where the ground is charred, it must have burned all the way to the ground.

The chinaman says he got a table made of bottle caps out of here.

Bottle Bottoms

Just empty the bottle. Spin it on it’s side. Kiss it on the lips. Stick your finger deep inside. Who’s it gonna pick this time?

The bottom of the bottle’s turning water to wine for me. The best things in life are cheap.

Tear off the labels. Tear off the warning signs. Just empty the bottles. Pile ’em up (pile ’em up, pile em up) and let them shine.

 

Tejas

Some of these people dreamed of escape. In their songs, they often spoke longingly of a pure land of fire, where everything is remembered.

Texas

A blue horizon’s all you see
Far cities fall below the sea
A broken leaf blows
Through your attic window
You light a cigarette
And dream about lost continents
And Texas
Will you ever see Texas?

In the morning at the end of time,
There’s cream beneath the quiet lights
Of Texas,
Will you ever see Texas?

When the lifeboats have all passed
You’ll follow on the ancient paths
To Texas
Will you ever see Texas?

Translucent armies flow behind you
Paper bridges wash away
Long red dresses and old blue suits
Fall beneath the Milky Waves
Of Texas
Will you ever see Texas?

The Ancient Texts

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 to 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

Living In A Ghost Town

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

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

Nobody Here is From Here

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

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

Scattered Leaves

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

Sweet

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.

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

The Russian’s Tale

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…

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

A Million Waves

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:

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

Oh, Gunpowder

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:

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

X Rayed Rose

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

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

Some Disenchanted Morning

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:

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