Posts Tagged With: song

Talkin’ Lazy Sunday Orwellian Blues

I heard there were riots in France over expensive petrol

Meanwhile in America, old dinosaurs still got soul

Frack those titties, twerk that cigarette, dab that motor oil

Gas is cheap, what a sign of relief!

We’re on a MOTHER-FUCKING winning streak

(Cowardly lions eating the meek)

dreamers, cast your wishes

And let’s treat the world as our sink

Leave it full’a dirty dishes!

Hakuna Matata, you peasants & bitches!

Here, in the Center of the Universe,

Old-timers be talkin’ fear, uncertainty, retraction

Young folk talkin’ apathy, depression, distraction

World leaders spittin’ discord, division, abstraction

While some no-good, low-down transient heathen bums

Still believin’ that bangin’ that old revolution drum

Is gonna make change come, (like Don on Stormy’s face)

Talkin’ wrenches, talkin’ sparks,

Talkin’ starve the mule, tame the ox in the dark,

Eat the elephant with a silver spoon

Talkin’ some day soon, we’ll get ‘em soon

Talkin’ light, talkin’ passion, talkin’ silent disco passes

Talkin’ awakening, talkin’ social justice, talkin’ action

Dear God, please don’t bother me with tomorrow

It’s Sunday.

We ain’t got time for all this worldly sorrow.

I work all week

There’s football

And beer

And shopping malls

8-balls and cue balls

Nacho cheese fountains

Spray tan booties and shaved balls

And dorito cheetoh frito chex-mix mountains,

I wanna climb ‘em all

Let’s drive

Let’s burn

Feast, feast, and feast

‘til we eat ourselves alive

The whole buffet, even the doctors ‘n priests

Wondering,

What is it for?

What else could I be here for?

Why, on God’s green earth

Is all this money waiting in the dirt?

In America, even if you’re poor

You’re still rich,

richer than most of the world

So give thanks, you son of a bitch

‘Cus Uncle Sam needs help diggin’ this ditch.

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Surrender to the Mystery

It’s hard when you live away from your home

Not the home where you’ve grown

But the one your heart knows

The places we’re born, some remain until death

 

But I know I will travel ‘til I find my rest

Expand all limits ‘til the final test

I don’t wanna catch the thing that I know lyin’

So I’ll chase that old dragon ‘til the end of crimes

For it’s not what you get at the end of your line

Nor the bait or the hooks or the length of the time

 

Most men know a relief from their defeat

And the bittersweet peace at the end of a feast

But that hunger will awake with the crow & the sun

As sure a some black hole is calling for everyone

 

Now I watch & wait & let the world come to me

I’ve got rot in my teeth and an ache in my knees

I ain’t crazy ‘cus I live with what I cannot see

And it takes all that I’ve got just to live peacefully

 

Beyond yesterday’s answer lies a deeper mystery

A body doesn’t have to move in order to be free

I surrender to the mystery so I can be free

I’ll surrender to the mystery so I can be free

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Soggy Remembrances

Fancy fellows follow one another, loaning lends to fires

Trend-setting jet-flying media-spying buyers

Swipe past faces, judgement erases complacency

What else can you do when you won’t let anyone know you?

synchronistic synapses siphon subjects

Typhoons lampoon typewriters, crescendoing nonsense 

following short punchlines with long cigarettes

That ship called “Friend” has sailed

What can you do when all the drunken sailors sober up?

The captain has a cap in captions, shafting daily rations

“Wise cracks will be met with a blithe smack

until the quality of labor improves!”

Stowed away until further notice,

Can’t follow tracks left in murky waters

Trace nothing in the shallows, undulating wellness pervades

Salty suits soiled in semen sing of soggy remembrances

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Alcoholism for Kids (A song about DIY Booze)

Here’s a children’s song I wrote.It’s about homemade booze:

My bottle is a hole in a bucket, a hole in a bucket

A hole in a bucket
When I plug the holes, my bucket overflows, 

my bucket overflows
If we don’t use the water, we’ll lose the water

we lose’ll the water, we’ll lose the water
California state is hella thirsty, 

hella thirsty, hella thirsty
So let’s make a gutter for all the water

put it in a barrel, put in a barrel
We can to the orchard, pick us some apples, 

pick us some apples, pick us some apples
In that water we’ll pour a little sugar,

Just a little dash, pour a little dash,
When that water starts a-bubbling, we add the apple mash, add the apple mash, add the apple mash
Wait three weeks and have yourself a drink, 

have yourself a drink, before you start to think
Man, with all this juice I could be making fuel,

Making a killing, breaking rules an’ making fuel
We gone to the junkyard to get some copper,

Get some copper, and look out for coppers
Then we cook the wine and sell it to the neighbors,

 sell it to the neighbors, and sell it to the neighbors
Now we got holes in our livers, 

holes in our kidneys, and holes in our heads, 

I fell down the ladder with a hole in my bladder, 

while my belly gettin’ fatter. 
Oh Daddy, my head don’t feel pain

burning high octane, 

no pain And big gains with high octane.

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