Set I
01 - Dilettantes
02 - That's What She Said
03 - Goldfish Bowl
04 - 02/12/2012 (What About Me?)
05 - Study Break (These Sunless Days)
06 - I Want To Live On Sesame Street
07 - Sparky's Blues
08 - Untitled Folk Song
09 - Drinkin and Thinkin
10 - Wounded Town
Set II
01 - The Flash of Light Was Me
02 - Lonely Laying Here
03 - Like Movies For Your Ears
04 - Different Name
05 - Things I Never Showed You
06 - Two Different Earths
07 - Pencil Lady
08 - Love Dogs
09 - Unknown
10 - Leona Adams
Set I - Lyrics
Dilettantes
All alone,
All alone,
but he sets the table anyway.
By the phone,
he tries to think of better words to say.
Lets it go,
like fading, fleeting hours of the night.
It’s as though
the avenues that lead to him aren’t right.
By the phone,
he tries to think of better words to say.
Lets it go,
like fading, fleeting hours of the night.
It’s as though
the avenues that lead to him aren’t right.
This is the blanket covering his feet,
the insecurity that feels complete,
The crumpled style never fit to stay,
this is the part that he was meant to play.
In a bar,
he holds a humble whiskey like a rose.
At the floor,
he washes all the wisdom to his toes.
He reflects
on tests and scans and inner bleeding stings.
Through the night,
he’ll drink to watch these baseball players swing.
This is the scene so quivering to tell,
the bitter taste of mediocre hell.
The vaunted veil that’s hampering his sight,
this is the poem that he was meant to write.
In a field,
no one’s there to hear him hit the ground.
At the sky,
he casts his eyes but all he knows is sound.
In a church,
a minister pays tribute to a life,
to a man
who leaves behind a family and a wife.
This is the final painting that we sell,
a congregation caught beneath a bell.
A passing throng of deacons soft as wings,
this is the song that we were meant to sing.
cooling
in the wind.
I read your words and your poetry.
You like to play pretend.
Wish I had a key,
but that might be too bold.
You really love your solitude
inside your goldfish
bowl, bowl, bowl, your goldfish bowl.
I read your words and your poetry.
You like to play pretend.
Wish I had a key,
but that might be too bold.
You really love your solitude
inside your goldfish
bowl, bowl, bowl, your goldfish bowl.
Dead men tell no tales,
or
so I’ve been told.
Their words just reflect the light
off gems and foolish gold.
I should write a book,
and make it my life’s goal
to die and find my way to you
inside your goldfish
bowl, bowl, your bowl, goldfish bowl.
You’re not there
Their words just reflect the light
off gems and foolish gold.
I should write a book,
and make it my life’s goal
to die and find my way to you
inside your goldfish
bowl, bowl, your bowl, goldfish bowl.
You’re not there
even
though I know you are.
You come and go like chronic pain
but you stay in my guitar.
I really want this part.
I’ve studied for the role.
Is there room for you and me
inside your goldfish
bowl, bowl, bowl, goldfish bowl?
02/14/2012 (What About Me?)
There's a box of chocolates someone will buy.
There's a bunch of roses gonna make someone cry.You come and go like chronic pain
but you stay in my guitar.
I really want this part.
I’ve studied for the role.
Is there room for you and me
inside your goldfish
bowl, bowl, bowl, goldfish bowl?
02/14/2012 (What About Me?)
There's a box of chocolates someone will buy.
There's a man and a woman engaged in a kiss.
And then there's me, watching all of this.
And I said oh eeee what about me?
Oh eeee what about me?
Then I realize I'm not alone.
Plenty of people never use their phones.
They sit and they watch every Valentine's Day,
hoping that someone will come walking their way.
And they say oh eeee what about me?
Oh eeee what about me?
So to all you ugly, hopeless opressed,
crazies and schitzos, severely depressed,
can I have your attention? Please form a line
because I gotta question...will you be mine?
Just one time...will you be mine?
Just one time...will you be mine?
Just one time...will you be mine?
Just one time...will you be mine?
Study Break (These Sunless Days)
Don’t wanna get dressed.
It’s a sunless day.
Just wanna wear pajamas,
and be on my merry way.
Don’t wanna do my hair,
just leave the make up in the drawer.
I just wanna surrender,
and give up my daily war.
I just want taco salad
and to study for the test,
and for him to make me laugh.
Sunless days are the best.
Didn’t see your lack of lipstick,
or the wild of your hair.
Your smile trumps these painted things,
always leaves me unaware.
So I'll meet you in pajamas,
taco salad in my hand,
a joke or two, just for you,
to make contracts seem less bland.
The way we schlep together
is what I’ll take away,
how you found your way in my song.
God, I love these sunless days!
I Want To Live On Sesame Street
If I lived near Big Bird’s house
I’d never have to kill the mouse
that runs the length
of my floor.
A-B-C’s and
these would mean the world to me,
up, down,
near, and far.
My triangles and storybooks,
cooperate with silly looks.
Everything has
a voice.
Celebrities and cookie dreams,
everyday’d taste like ice cream,
sign language
helps hearing impaired.
I want to live on
I want to sit and rest my feet.
I want to live on
but the world is far too real.
I’d never starve. I’d never work.
That Oscar is a fucking jerk.
I’d like to punch
his eyes.
So if I lived near Big Bird’s house
I’d probably never kill that mouse.
We’d dance until
the dawn.
Sparky's Blues
Well, her left breast tattoo said "Wanted Dead or Alive."
She got it in Cleveland back in 1965.
I think those fishnet stockings have seen a time or two.
They got these great big holes where the milky white shows through.
And I was really really drunk,
so I believe you'll understand
when I say, "God bless, Mrs. Robinson
I believe you found your man."
The wrinkles on her face go down to Chinatown,
and I was broken up. I was feeling down.
Her grandma hands were something like some kinda awful dream,
and when she hold me close she smelled like Aspercreme.
And I was really really drunk,
so I believe you'll understand
when I say, "God bless, Mrs. Robinson
I believe you found your man."
Loving's double good from ladies twice your age,
a quiet little fact taken strictly from the page.
Did I do the deed? Did I play that show?
Well beggars can't be choosers, love, and that's all you need to know.
And I was really really drunk,
so I believe you'll understand
when I say, "God bless, Mrs. Robinson
I believe you found your man."
Untitled Folk Song
I think the time has come to change my mind.
The coffee in my cup has left me blind.
I think the time has come to change my dance,
to tango past the clutches of romance.
Everyday these are the words I mumble
before I take myself into the jungle
where people pound their chests
like beasts to clouds above,
while I feast on unrequited love.
I think the time has come to change my tune,
to polish all the guns and shoot the moon.
I think it’s time to shed some innocence,
to bash the walls, to burn the picket fence.
Everyday I have these little fires
that breathe the oxygen of my desires
to open up my mouth just once
to scream words in your face
to validate all this time I waste.
I think the time has come to stop the rain,
to lick the wounds and stumble through the pain.
I think the time has come to say: THE END,
to swallow all the lumps and start again.
Everyday I think in terms of endings,
abandon what I’ve lost and take my winnings
out into the nighttime noise,
running down the streets.
I’m just searching for other ways to eat.
Drinkin and Thinkin
I been a drinkin and a thinkin
how sanity in me keeps a shrinkin.
I'm drinkin whiskey which is risky
tonight.
I burnt my midnights into sunlights.
Reality, she put up a good fight,
but with scotch, I will watch it
melt away.
Everybody thinks I'm crazy,
and my mind is over-hazy
because she left me here
with bitterness and beer.
I'm a flippin and a trippin
out of my mind I'm a slippin
through make believe I receive
tonight.
I been a drinkin and a thinkin
how people are like eyes that keep blinkin.
I'm drinkin wine, but I'm not fine
tonight.
I've seen some motion in the ocean.
Off the coast of everything there is commotion.
I'm sippin gin, and once again,
sittin here.
All their eyes stares straight at me
with criminal degrees.
They think I lost my way
because I always stay.
I'm where the door meets the floor,
and I won't be back anymore.
I'm mixing mai tais with goodbyes
tonight.
Wounded Town
I remember being old,
Set II - Lyrics
The Flash of Light Was Me
Last night, in my bed,
a dream crept in my head.
I saw when the world will end –
my loved ones, and my friends
pinned down in the park,
huddled in the dark,
they could hear
the hellhounds bark.
Hey little girl what’s the news?
Did you win that game of Clue?
The world’s falling down,
and I can’t find my shoes.
Then I was on a plane
and a thought shot through my brain.
I saw us going down
like an open hospital gown –
the people in first class,
shattering like glass
their screaming
turned to gas.
Hey little girl, did you see
those people on TV?
When that airplane became a flame
the flash of light was me.
But then, I saw your face,
and I tried to find your grace,
but when I saw your eyes
I could see through your disguise –
all the things you do,
how you make me blue,
the tragedy that’s you.
Hey little girl, did you hear?
Or was daddy drinking beer?
The sun came out today
everywhere but here.
thinking of her in another bed.
Oh lonely!
Is this cup of coffee.
On the commute, stuck to my route,
gridlock grinds on the metro loop.
Inside of our cars, we're faces in jars.
I meet someone's eyes...God it seems so far!
Oh lonely!
Is rush hour daily.
Apartment is still, a silence that kills.
My castle built out of each month's bills.
At the end of the day, I come here to lay
in front of this screen, feel my mind decay.
Oh lonely!
Is nothing on TV.
Things I Never Showed You
I’ve got things I never showed you,
knick-knacked broken bits of string,
in a box with a keyhole.
Sometimes I take it out to sing.
Treasures trapped like icy sinners
along the slowly passing years,
mementoes could’ve sworn were winners,
all just practice for the tears.
Here’s the time you touched my hand,
a snow kissed Friday football loss.
There’s the time I was the man
when I helped you bear your cross.
Baby, I am not a dweller.
I’m rarely ever caught like this,
but we are sums of all our journeys,
so I drink, and dream, and reminisce.
Come tomorrow’s rising sun,
different lines will draw me clear.
Tonight’s an ocean of remember,
and all I want to be is here.
Here are all the looks you gave me,
stretched like ribbons to the start.
There’s the time we danced so slowly.
Here’s your laugh. There’s my heart.
I’ve got things I never showed you,
knick-knacked broken bits of string,
in a box with a keyhole.
Sometimes I take it out to sing.
Leona Adams
Leona Adams,
I thought about you today.
Leona Adams,
this is how I pray.
I wondered if you wanted
to play.
Leona Adams –
busty Miss Seventeen.
Cystic Fibrosis
kept you from being prom queen.
Sometimes I think you were
a dream.
Leona Adams,
you wished we were closer in age
so we could be lovers,
and you could keep turning the page,
but your life was only
a cage.
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