Eons have passed, civilizations have risen up and decayed, and in the decidedly un-Mad-Maxian desert scape of our mid-lives, during (to quote Joanne) the most boring apocalyptic film ever, we’ve managed to make a record! It’s called DAD JAMS! It’s out now! It has vinyl!! Please stream it, buy it like it, love it, and tell a friend. Also hug a friend if you’re vaccinated.
ALL LYRICS so far ANCIENT BABY I watched my ego calcify my tendencies Habits in my bones set in stone A fossilized impression of me as an ancient baby boy Tormented tantruming what was I born for? God, do you always have a goal? Where do I begin? Oh, if I’m separate Does it help me not to know? I’m not gonna Break new ground on this question I’m not gonna Figure it out I’m done guessing So I won’t worry about it ‘Cause there’s no test for it I have two sons they are attached to me But when they grow up I’m gonna end My affirmation says there is no separateness Well maybe so, tell it to them And if we’re three leaves On the same tree I only hope it’s Fall for me And anyway I’m not gonna Get caught up on these questions I’m not gonna Figure it out I’m done guessing So I won’t worry about it ‘Cause there’s no test for it I won’t worry about it, I won’t worry about it, I won’t worry about it I love everyone Equally There’s no test for it, there’s no test for it, there’s no test for it I’m not gonna Break new ground on this question I’m not gonna Figure it out I’m done guessing I’m not gonna Break new ground on this question I’m not gonna Figure it out I’m done guessing I’m not gonna Break new ground on this question A MUMMY AT THE LAKE I’ve come back to my cabin Crazy I was like a nut gone candy Passing off my pride as laziness Hiding my ambition like a fist buried deep in my gut All the birds under the eaves All the bats at night kept trying to tempt my soul to take flight Oh such sweet release I know I’m part God part Dad part beast, part of all that I feel When I feel enough, I feel alive But only barely Everything’s fought out, thought out, talked out of me Everything’s fought out, thought out, talked out of me Everything’s fought out, thought out, talked out of me Everything’s been fought out, thought out, talked out, thought out, fought out of me If I give up what I don’t get, give in and just it be, maybe I won’t Stay freezing on a childhood feeling - I’m just trying to be me But it’s been done a billion times, please! And all the stars in the sky shout down on me no time is free And I won’t get a reprieve. Hiding in my cabin bed Cowering at dawn’s first light with sunken cheeks and Sheets pulled tight a sunbeam bar across my eyes Like a silent movie mummy I’m alive But only barely Everything’s fought out, thought out, talked out of me Everything’s fought out, thought out, talked out of me Everything’s fought out, thought out, talked out of me Everything’s been fought out, thought out, talked out, thought out, fought out of me Everything’s called out, crawled out, bawled out of me Everything’s chucked up, hocked out, hauled out of me Everything’s wore out, tore out, cut out, shut out, broken down on me Everything’s dropped out, popped out, fucked out, shucked out, all shot out of me. BOOGIE WOOGIE Show me anything else but this foolish kid How can’t he know that I’m not feeling it? If there’s any way I won’t be missed I’d like to put a pin in him and leave now while it’s half over I’ll go outside and pace the halls by the bathroom totally alone Inside the singer does the po-faced boogie woogie Oh Porgy, it just goes to show how callow Brooklyn boys be But though it’s fall for me and shadows drape the walls it’s not all for me Cause all of this time I thought I wasn’t growing just dying And all of this time I thought I wasn’t growing just dying Hey my wisdom’s showing Hey my wisdom’s showing Hey ho I feel like I’m one in a million but my physical body is 43 I I I I’m old news, in some bad shoes, but I’m still out and groovin’ to a smooth beat I always thought I’d be on top of the world or at least I’d get ahead of it But now I know that I was all wrong and the world forgives me because it is me And the creature I was in 1993 is no longer me oh oh All of this time I thought I wasn’t growing just dying And all of this time I thought I wasn’t growing just dying Hey my wisdom’s showing Hey my wisdom’s showing Hey ho Hey ho Hey ho Hey ho Hey ho Hey ho COLD PICTURE I’m out of it Out of the frame, from where I sit There’s nothing to say, nothing to pass for, Nowhere to go Don’t die young, But don’t grow old, just be yourself, Do what you’re told You come to understand no one really knows It’s a cold picture Oh come on in help give me regret It’s a cold picture, baby isn’t it? Go on help season my wit It’s a cold picture, oh oh Baby come over I’m saying nothing I feel Though I’m feeling oceans and oceans I just don’t Oooh oooh, ah ah It’s a cold picture Oh come on in help give me regret It’s a cold picture Go on help season my wit It’s a cold picture Oh come on in help give me regret It’s a cold picture, baby isn’t it? Go on help season my wit It’s a cold picture, oh oh Baby come over I’m saying nothing I feel Though I’m feeling oceans and oceans I just don’t COPY BODY The lonely is in my copy body Following me to a double bed Where I never give up I just give in Throwing down my keys on the chance that when I’ve had enough of the LOL repeat There must be something more to be… In the fantasy of me and me and me and me and me When the lonely is in I write myself a note So that what I know now I might know now and then also I try to be a true friend to me to the bitter end of me Trying to pretend that I can still be free When the lonely is in I play at staring Where every blink erases the last thing I see Destroying memories On the chance there’s something more to be Is there a chance there’s something more to be? In the fantasy of me and me oh oh What am I holding out for anyway? If all matter is the same to me What I am holding out for anyway? It’s hard to say specifically What I am holding out for anyway? What I am holding out for anyway? (we’re making money like it’s easy but it’s not the dollar’s dropping and the dollar’s all we got no gold no gold just an out-of-focus coffin waving two feet away in a room like an oven saying… I’ve had enough) DRINKING TANG When I was 20 Jesus was 12 When I was 20 Jesus was 12 I quit being straight-edge studying in Spain While Jesus was at home playing tag and drinking Tang When I was 33 Jesus was 25 I was working three jobs he was only working one part-time He kept telling us to give it all away While his gas credit card still got paid in his mom’s name But I was a teenager too Suffering and so into it Insufferable and so ignorant I also tripped up on the truth Jesus Chris you weren’t innocent Oh did you think I was so different from you? From you? Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh from you Magical fate and the circle of life Went on a date and I got myself a wife We had a bunch of kids and we ate a lot of ice cream And the years went by in a frozen dairy dream Now I’m 41 and Jesus is dying Strung up overhead and it’s no use crying ‘Cause the rest of us still have to keep on going Doing nothing, all done growing Tired of knowing it, and Bored of trying But once upon a time… I was a teenager too Suffering and so into it Insufferable and so ignorant I also tripped up on the truth Jesus Chris you weren’t innocent Oh did you think I was so different from you? Oooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh I was I was I was a teenager too Suffering and so into it Insufferable and so ignorant ooh ooh I also tripped up on the truth Jesus Chris you weren’t innocent Oh did you think I was so different from you? LITTLE BRAVE FRIENDS You can offer up your own ambition but they shouldn’t have to share it with you It’s not for them, it’s not for them But it’s true what they say your karma is the core code baked into this new pair of Little friends, little brave friends So drape my thoughts over your body let’s try impersonating one parent To spare us, going ‘round again and again ‘Cause it’s ‘write a record, write a record’ It’s Future Fear, it’s Future Fear it’s ‘write a record, write a record’ We cycle through this every year In our current state there’s always hell to pay so who do you think has to pay it? And it’s not for them, and it’s not for them, baby If you imprint all your own opinions it’s the clay they’ll have to build their face with These little friends, these little brave friends But even if some all-knowing creator made us it abandoned us to do its job So drape my thoughts over your body let’s try to impersonate a good God To spare us, going ‘round again and again ‘Cause it’s ‘write a record, write a record’ It’s Future Fear, it’s Future Fear it’s ‘write a record, write a record’ We cycle through this every year ‘write a record, write a record’ It’s Future Fear, Future Fear it’s ‘write a record, write a record’ It’s Future Fear, Future Fear it’s ‘write a record, write a record’ It’s Future Fear, Future Fear it’s ‘write a record, write a record’ We cycle through this every year HEY, COME ON! Hey, come on! Stay a little bit longer Than you planned to stay, I was born to trap you Eye to eye with me in oppositional defense Of a present tense with no beginning and no end Get into it (yeah) Wait for me, wait for me, I’m innocent Pray for me, pray for me, get into it Wait for me, wait for me, I’m innocent Pray for me, pray for me, get into it And don’t get out Show me where to go if I’m meant to throw my life away Then stay away I’m a contraction and an end of everything you thought Was a beginning I would love to try again and again Get into it Wait for me, wait for me, I’m innocent Pray for me, pray for me, get into it Wait for me, wait for me, I’m innocent Pray for me, pray for me, get into it Oh Pray for me, pray for me, I’m innocent - I’m innocent innocent Stay for me, stay for me, get into it - get into it into it into it oh Oh Pray for me, pray for me, I’m innocent - I’m innocent innocent oh Stay for me, stay for me, get into it And don’t get out HOCUS POCUS It does knock me out No view’s so new inside or out I replay it and move ahead Nothing to do but stay at it Oh I focus Everything’s the same if I don’t concentrate On the hocus pocus It’s all shifting shapes that you can’t trace Is it in the details? I don’t know Ok, then is it in the shadows that play? I don’t know Alright, then is it just an empty space? Dave, I can’t say either way When you ignore the faces of Everyone you’ve ever known Old and new Projecting love Protecting it too… Doesn’t that sound true? ‘Cause you’ve been focusing on the wrong things Haven’t you? You’ve been Focusing on the what when You should be focusing on the who You should be Focusing on the who And do it for us, won’t you? Do it for us, won’t you? Do it for us, won’t you? Do it for us, won’t you? oh Oh lordy, I’m born again and again So much I’m getting bored of it I’m letting nothing sink in ‘Cause I’m over it I don’t hope for a change That’s a cry for help in an empty brain Disconnected but still tuned in To the painfulness is this a test? I don’t know And if so is it pass or fail? I don’t know about that Is it so poorly made that you can’t even tell? Dave, I can’t say either way When you ignore the places Where everyone you never knew And were related to Lived their truth Died for it too ‘Cause you’ve been focusing on the wrong things Haven’t you? You’ve been Focusing on the what when You should be you should be focusing on the who You should be Focusing on the who And do it for us, won’t you? Do it for us, won’t you? Do it for us, won’t you? focusing on the who Do it for us, won’t you? And do it for us, won’t you? focusing on the who Do it for us, won’t you? Do it for us, won’t you? focusing on the who Do it for us, won’t you? A STROBELIGHT ON A DUMB DANCEFLOOR People are easy like a milestone over and over Faces repeating like a strobelight on a dumb dancefloor We are the only ones we’re seeing who seem at all complete And I swear That’s what they’ll be saying to each other watching you and me as we stare Let me count the ways I can do it Break it down and beat the magic out Let me count the ways I can do it Break it down and beat the magic out Let me count the ways I can do it Break it down Again again again again and again again again again again again again again Until it all falls apart And it seems like every anthem drop gets longer and longer With the pitch behind each new track Rising like an air raid scream Oh I can guess the next face before this face even gets past me I guess I’ll keep on doing this for as long as this night Lasts me Let me count the ways I can do it Break it down and beat the magic out Let me count the ways I can do it Break it down and beat the magic out Until it all falls apart Until it all falls apart Let me count the ways I can do it Until it all falls apart Let me count the ways break it down Until it all falls apart Again again again again and again again again again again again again again Until it all falls apart Let me count the ways break it down and beat the magic out Until it all falls apart Again again again again and again again again again again again again again Until it all falls apart WIZARD WEDNESDAYS So I loved it so well so oh well Is that something I had to admit? I don’t need to stand up and play show and tell ‘Cause I accept what I’m not gonna get And you won’t learn a thing you can use From my ancient history No you won’t learn a thing about me Murdering mystery It’s the same old eraser on paper work worrying away At the spot on the map that made this a place I could stay So I know I must go as you please Is there part of me missing, clearly But do I have to pay nearly and dear to me For the parts of me you can’t penetrate? And though I’m out there living so far in the haze I’m right here at home in my familiar place What’s my body and mine will be yours in due time So don’t make me go and give it all up right away You can turn out the wizards from clocktowers Trolls from under cities Replace them with me only me lonely me And my discography Of notes froze in my throat as a boy full of primitive fears Don’t leave me, I swear I’m trying Let me stay here But you won’t learn a thing you can use From my ancient history No you won’t learn a thing about me Murdering mystery It’s the same old eraser on paper work worrying away At the spot on the map that made this a place I could stay BOOK OF BAD BREAKS D. SHALLOW What is a myth for the young people meant to enslave them to something or someone who will detain them from a more perfect thing just out of reach for the old, sick, strange and weak is a gift. EAGLE ROCK Young dumb and full of cum, this’ll be your anthem: a set of shaking strings tethered to a fly. If you survive to be a daddy this’ll be a lullaby too for your handsome boy t-t-t-tacked up with pins. Down in the Mole Hole or up on Eagle Rock, crushed like a nut or saved by dumb luck no no no no was not my fate oh me oh my I just got stuck: spent and spun out in a rut like a mean old buck. THE DUTCH FIST ( Some lyric by Chad Bidwell) Inching forward single file, immune to the malaria mosquito haze on the deck of the slaver. One more time you strain your neck for one last glimpse of your young, fine wife tied ankle to ankle boarding a different ship. Fast forward 200 years: the Dutch Fist has adjusted its grip. The bank branch fat manager’s bosses are using credit like they used to use a whip (they’ll take your name and make you pay for it). NIGHT AT THE KNIGHT SCHOOL At the night school, night school you doodle and you draw anything, anything except what you’re taught. You got a bad tooth, bad tooth so you clench your jaw and you concentrate, concentrate on the aching cause it keeps you awake. Forecasters of disasters show proofs that show they’re right, but you can block out anything counting every blink of each florescent light in every class on every single last night (that’s right that’s right). And when the tooth breaks, tooth breaks you can bite down on your tongue and keep a tight smile, tight smile stitched across on your practiced face like it’s all stupidly, stupidly right, but when you take down your notes each night write lightly then go back and erase what they say because they say forecasters of disasters want proof that they were right. They’d love to see you learn but they’ll have to wait for a long, long time. You can outlast anything, you’ll count every blink of each florescent light in every class on every single last night at the night school, at the night school. PROUD TURKEYS Counting your blessings as they hatch and grow you’ll start to feel uncomfortable as each one takes off far away with small wings and heavy. Proud turkeys with the gift of flight!! And you were right, they drop like an anvil out of a wagon in the grasses climbing through foggy passes on soaking wings and get caught up with wolves and young, hot foxes and do Jesus Christ who knows what sorts of things. You read them stories from the Book of Bad Breaks every night when they were sleeping safe inside their eggs hoping to impart at least a premonition about the dangers they’d face. But barely two, they’re lost to you now: proud turkeys with the gift of flight. Big-breasted babies, way unsteady, really heavy and not too bright. FLY PAPER I’m going to steer clear of everyone. I am no near deer, queer for anyone. Flitty me flies high above connections because the fly that was dried in the glue, yes he made one. And if I as a crow see some pizza foil on a trash heap and the sun glints off its silver skin so it leaps just like a fish and I react like a seagull I’ll still pull out in mid-dive in case it’s a trap set by rats…I know, I know, that’s just how I am (do do do) It’s trouble up, trouble down: I’ve steered myself so clear of everything if I was a black bear I’d hibernate all through the year. But I’m from a race that kept on lapping me so long the crowd went home and left me limping around the track watching my rear view mirror. And things look so much better after they have passed me by. I feel like Charlie Heston riding on a horse on the beach but I’d rather be an ape if it helps me take the last fruit off of the very last tree ‘cause it’s out of my reach (do do do do do) OH YES, ANOTHER MOTHER Mother you were first upon the beach you stormed the wake boards and the free bar at Normandy where they shot at Grandpa’s head while he screamed if I ever get out of this I will be a good book salesmen and when he did he kept his promise gratefully he lived died serving money and making his family and he wanted you to do the same but times change you serve yourself, you serve yourself. But Mother, Mother I am becoming another family. I kept some of your strange advice – and let the bad drift right up out of sight. Out of my atmosphere before it choked me and killed me like your servant did to you on your vacation when your too-late reformation left you bronzed for dead by the pool in the April heat in a spring setting records every second 'til you grilled like meat and I helped myself (but everything that came after that was another mother). THE WHITE MASK Passed out at noon you woke up in a waiting room full of blurry magazines. You tried to focus and read but you were excited to meet your maker. The room slowly emptied of blurry, blank faces until you at last heard them call out your name. But when they showed you in you didn’t meet your maker just a group like you holding short straws and then the office fell into the hold of a galley boat where a black sand man flicked on a Bick while you rowed. His click click ticked on with no tock to the beak of a feeding chicken who was pecking out a beat with his beak on the bottom of his cage at a pace you were sticking to until through storms of feathers you arrived at a coast on the edge of night where with his one remaining flame the black man took your oars, set them on fire, and left you there with your makeshift torches saying wait just a little more and soon you’ll see your maker in the flickering light, but after a while your torches died and it was pitch, coal, tar black so when the so when the White Mask (when it came at last) it was out of sight MO DEEPER What is a myth for the young meant to enslave them to something or someone who will detain them from a more perfect thing just out of reach for the old, sick, strange and weak is a gift. MORE DEEP CUTS POST-PRESENT Let’s not go out. Let’s not stay up late. Let’s not go out. Let’s not celebrate. 'Cause there is no time left in tonight: Tomorrow is already here… PRE-PRESENT The present in your lap has already been unwrapped, opened, and used, many times before you. And so it goes that knowing where it’s been makes you worry that it’s been tampered with. Has it gone bad? Open it and see: Maybe it’s filled to the brim with magic pennies! Each time the present is received there are more! They’ll roll all over the floor, out to the street and give themselves away to everyone they meet! FRESHMAN THESIS Before I spoke in riddles, I was worried someone would hear me. Now I know that no one really listens so I will just speak clearly. I don’t have private thoughts, just a lyrical worksheet for mangling my observations on the meter and the beat. And in the process of it, on every line, sooner or later I’ll have to change the meaning to fit the rhyme. But back in the skylight all of the stars turn into sound and though they are far away they shout so loudly I think I may know exactly what they’re saying to me. It’s on the tip of my ear; it’s almost palpable! I have to listen closely and get my mind around it! And when I understand it I’ll just transcribe it. This time when I write it down I’ll do it faithfully. I won’t try to rhyme it. AVE GRAVE In the beginning we rounded them up, all of the traitors to luck. And then we killed them and put all their bodies into one massive grave. As they approached where they’d spend their tomorrows they never asked us a thing. When you give in to the mercy of time you don’t try to survive, you just try to get by on whatever it brings. (corpses ascend) When we came back to throw lie on the corpses there were no corpses there. All of the Trevors and Patricks and Davids were set to float away. We were not angry, we weren’t disappointed, we were just doing our jobs. We barely missed them by a dangling hair. Up past fingertips into the air – as they rose up their look was reserved. CLOISTERPHOBIA Bang, bang your drum. Though your bed is unmade you can bang, bang away. There’s nobody to stop you now. Take a plane. Return home to the place you first saw her. From the sky it’s off-white little hills like bags of cocaine. When you arrive drive the five blocks to her former home. Take her shoes out of your suitcase and put them on. Place your hat cockeyed upon your balding head, and then dance a little dance to celebrate. 2 AM When it begins, sound rushes in and drowns out everything. Sideways in bed you cover your ears – the roar is deafening. When it won’t quit you stagger up and into the hall, but out there it’s louder… somebody’s party? You start to yell: “Hey, buddy, hey! Hey, buddy, please! Would you quiet down? You’re killing me! It’s 2 AM, I need to sleep!” But the sound keeps going, 'til the walls are shaking, and no one answers though you keep running around and banging on doors. And it seems strange there’s no one home. You start to wonder, “Who’s making that noise if I’m up here all alone?” But then the pitch hits and you stop caring. What was piercing is now controlled. And there’s no who and no why. There’s no conflict. You breathe it out and let it go. You start a song: And when you sing the sound is gone! And when you sing the lights come on! And then the doors all open wide! And then the whole hall staggers out and sings along! You rub your eyes…they come closer… it’s a party? WALK OF SHAME We don’t wanna learn what our hearts can’t hold, but I know you know and you know I know: The time has come to return alone. We’ll be empty handed, and once again left to ourselves and our strange beliefs…but you can’t believe if you have no hope. Can we change these frequencies? Can we trade them in for dreams? Can we stay asleep for them? And Lucifer if we say please can we keep them? But outside the cabin there’s rain on the lake and one mind wanders while the other stays. And though what’s said is harder done, it’s almost time to return to one. But can we change these frequencies? Can we trade them in for dreams? Can we stay asleep for them? And lucifer if we say please can we keep them? ASK ME ABOUT JON STROSS I take my seat as the scenery flickers on an exercise tape for the waking dawn. First go the trees changing grey to green behind the wires and then the sun comes up on a field full of tires. I felt two things at once when I heard the news: I felt upset but I was also confused. How did you see your way free to do what you did? I guess I still thought of you as that happy kid. But outside the scenery is getting better. Who can be sad with all this space and time passing by? I’m on my way to the funeral of you, my childhood brother and all I can do is look out the window and smile. HOUSE BREAK The guns underneath the fake floor point to the rafters. Walking on the wood beams you place your feet carefully, each one gently. You woke up in a strange house with something hidden in a safe place, but no way to find it. Certain kinds of anxious dreams are incomplete: they lack a key you only get when you go back to sleep. The long distance shots fired over your head tell you it’s time to retrace your steps and go back to bed. If you stay awake in this dream, in this dream you’re going to die: So say goodnight or say goodbye. MONKEY VS SHARK EP MONKEY VERSUS SHARK washing my feet in the shower I slipped and let out a cry the sound that came out didn’t sound like an animal of any kind I’m losing focus on the things that make me special the last time I ever peed my bed I threw the sheets out of the window and looked down at the creepy sheets blowing away down the creepy street there are four fat folders with the state labeled with my name one is me and three are not but all read the same I’m losing focus on the things that make me me (me me) but back when I knew what I was exactly on creepy sheets in the dark I was the monkey and you were the shark a circling fin beside my bed while I stretched out over the edge to brush your skin as you came close with the bottoms of my feet a special touch from me to you specifically PHINEAS BOGG you took your life to relive it – to be born again right at birth – to be reformed from the violence but now it’s worse. your parents feed you through the grating. outside you hear goblins laughing. you lie stalk still as their hands reach inside and when the grate is shut you rise, approach the door, and grab a bite. it is your right to try for a piece of mind any time you can. it is your right to take your life and be reborn again as many times as you can stand. 'til cold food for the blind turns into bright white light and you can feel your tiny hands are glowing. it is your right to try again. DUTCH SLAVER what could be true does not interest you at all as if you knew every new fact obscures the truth a mad orange slave on a tour boat at dawn squinting your eyes and counting waves but shot back from traveling on a shuttle bus full of queasiness headed home and hurtling forward towards a certain doom as the rain on the windshield streaks down the glass you notice a fissure, a glinting gold splinter then a sickening crack as your neck snaps and takes you back to a different Dutch slaver passing curving cliffs at dawn with grandpa’s fat wraith directing you onward while his insect lieutenants hack limbs off with their swords you squint your eyes and count waves DEADBEAT WATER (Lyric By Benj Vardigan) know how the sprinkler makes great arcs low and up again? like a curbside ode tracing the trim wet lawns to the sewers and drains to the rivers and lakes to evaporate and return as rain? we barreled a car across the state wore out our tapes halted on salted roads between receding lakes the wind clipped through the reeds the alternator shot the dashboard light shut off the car was dark we began to freeze we drummed our hands on our knees a tuneless tone marked for home came through rhythm free A HISTORY OF SPORT FISHING WHERE R U NOW? Stuck between the daylight hours was a place that was ours and we confused us with it just enough to make it fit. The MC5 played “Stayin’ Alive” in a basement room on Geddes Drive. But we had short hair and we couldn’t compare to a love we knew was never there. Oh, it’s the people you choose to leave who you’ll see all the time. THE 8TH RING OF HELL I’d sit on my hands if it would do any good because what I do is not what I should. I always say that I’m a stand-up guy, which implies that I can walk as well. The eighth ring of hell is full of flatterers and panders – I’m one or both, but it hardly matters because when I leave I’m going to set fire to a terrible sky that from far away will light up the walls of your new kitchen while you’re busy knitting and forgetting. And now it’s time to say so long but I’m not sure I’m saying goodbye. I still want to try! I miss your hands and your little feet! But several times I’ve been driven to cheat upon you and that’s more than enough. There’s just one thing to do… A HISTORY OF SPORT FISHING Now that I care enough to be more into you than you’re into me I have to work every day like you did on me to get me to stay. And if I knew what I know now I’m not so sure I’d be around working on you every day like you did on me to get me to stay. BALLAD OF DOUGLAS CHIN Oh sleeping in the trees – traveling light, an unseen breeze, I never really thought I’d get caught in that quad, but I was wrong. Oh I wanna get well and find a skill that I can sell, but no one buys what I made to give away. Trapped in the city – no sleep no more – Just stay up yelling at pimps and whores. And what for? Is this art or war? Who made the part of my brain that makes music feel like pain? “Go to bed, whiteass!” “Get STRAIGHT, get a job!!” “Are you crazy?! What’s your problem?!” “Are you lazy?” “Disrespect ME, you gotta PAY me!!” I DO SO HAVE A SENSE OF HUMOR Following me out of the city dump past the birds east of St. Claire. I make one mile and you cancel it out. It hurts me to know that you’re still around. I’m a long distance runner with world record splits but I don’t know how long I can keep up like this. Please remember that I never said if you hung in there we’d still be friends. I know that you’ve got a big heart because it still has space for the hearts that you tear apart. You left me, dear, but you want it both ways so you keep calling up with nothing to say except: “Oh now, it’s time to try some more!” But we don’t try anymore, not that way… THE PERFECT MAP Oh my god, are Thou glad? I think we found the perfect map to the song in your head Before they pronounced you dead. So keep our hands tightly tied and our mouths open wide. We will sing out all the time and say nothing and be satisfied. Is it wrong to remind people having a good time that they’re out of your sight and it’s showing? In the cold, in the yard we saw sounds tore apart and we were freaked out by the signs of a bloody final fight. We were worked up with the fear that you had disappeared but we found your note at dawn. So this is for the people celebrating evil songs: We’re going back, back, back, back, back, back to the laws! Is it wrong to remind people having a good time that their groove isn’t tight and it’s showing? THE HORIZON IS A SINGLE POINT I’ll sew the stars to the backs of my eyes so they won’t seem so far from my sight. I’ll feather my hair and go out on the town and no one’s going to bring me down. I’ll harness my hopes to the first car I see but if it drives by it won’t bother me. It’s all or nothing, and where I’m bound no one’s going to bring me down.