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1. |
Lay Out Your Cookies
04:24
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Lay out your cookies
for Santa Clause
Although there’s cause
for uneasiness and a wish
won’t make it disappear
We know that hope will trump fear
String rows of garland
all around your glistening trees
Hang bows and stockings
from your mantlepiece and stairs.
He is coming tonight
out of the dark to bring light.
[chorus]
Line all your shelves
with good tidings
Wake up the elves
who’ve been hiding
Raise up your glasses
in good cheer
and sing with all those
near and dear:
'All the best wishes for
Christmas and the New Year!"
The songs end;
laughter, in time, fades.
Gone, too, are the holiday
cavalcades
The yule log’s ashes lay
across the hearth,
(but) you can keep the passion lit
in your heart
all year round
Shower gifts that fill bellies
or warm hearts and inform smiles
'tween you and the ones you love
a call erases miles
No batteries required
Nor a jolly fat soul in red attired
So ...
Line all your shelves
with good tidings
Wake up the elves w
ho’ve been hiding
Raise up your glasses
in good cheer
and sing for all those
who will hear:
"All the best wishes
for Christmas (3x)
and the New Year!
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2. |
Replacement Me
04:07
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She makes new memories;
takes the old ones out of circulation.
Their only mistake was
living past their expiration dates.
Everywhere, the evidence
is thrown into a guileless face:
photographs from every
single far-flung place.
[chorus]
She’s flitting through the mist of the Pyrenees;
floating on a wispy summer breeze.
(She) says she’s finally found the bees knees
and he’s the guy she calls “Replacement Me.”
There, in your pocket, lies
a constant reminder, buzzing your thigh.
Wherever in the world she is--
don’t worry--it will show you where.
She’s living rent free in your head;
sleeping on a comfy four-poster bed;
while you’re holed up in the tool shed,
tugging on your pole instead.
[chorus]
She’s flitting through the misty Pyrenees;
floating on a whimsical summer breeze.
(She) says she’s finally found the bees knees.
He’s the guy she calls “Replacement Me.”
[bridge]
She’s grooming him to a T,
just another pet in her menagerie.
[chorus]
She’s flitting through the mist of the Pyrenees;
floating on a whimsical summer breeze.
(She) says she’s finally found the bees knees.
He’s the guy she calls “Replacement Me.”
She lives free of consequences,
succeeding, but only
at another’s expense.
Don’t take it too hard, pal,
grab a card and get in line.
You’re one in an endless supply
on a conveyer belt of readymade guys.
You thought they broke the mold,
but that’s just what she told you, oh well.
[chorus]
She’s flitting through the misty Pyrenees;
floating on a whimsical summer breeze
(She) says she’s finally found the bees knees.
He’s the guy she calls “Replac ement Me.”
[bridge]
She’s grooming him to a T,
just another pet in her menagerie.
[chorus]
She’s flitting through the mist of the Pyrenees;
floating on a whimsical summer breeze
(She) says she’s finally found the bees knees.
He’s the guy she calls “Replacement Me.”
He'll never be ..
He'll never be replacement me.
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3. |
Transgressive
02:23
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V1
I don’t recognize myself
in your flattery,
In fact I find it
rather embarrassing
because it’s only
a matter of time
before the fangs come out.
I have no doubt.
V2
The question is “when” not “If”
some misread innuendo
will become the next tiff
and then we play the game:
Who’s the biggest hero
in your fantasy?
in your fantasy.
[chorus:]
Transgressive.
If I go and make
a mess of things,
will you forsake
or think less of me?
Because I’m not sure
I can take it.
You like to say
you are progressive.
Would you try to box me in
if I willingly sin
and become transgressive?
V3
I don't think there's room
on this pedestal
and the air is very thin.
i think I’d like to climb
back down again.
I don’t like the way
this is taking shape
I need to escape!
[chorus:]
Transgressive
If I go and make
a mess of things
will you forsake
or think less of me?
Because I’m not sure
I can take it.
You like to say
you are progressive.
Would you try to box me in
If I willingly sin
and become transgressive?
Transgressive
Transgressive
Transgressive
Transgressive
Regressive
Obsessive
Transgressive
It's getting dark.
It's so dark and cold.
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4. |
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The Bird Has Flipped
Drip by drip
The teardrops slip
into a deepening pool of sorrow
What a gyp
The bird is flipped
and you’re feeling like
there’s no tomorrow.
Will you taste like sweet wine
or just like bitter brine?
Will I savor the drink
or spit it out into the sink?
Oh well
Are you the wisdom
of a thousand years?
Oh well
Or just a mixture
of my deepest fears?
Oh well, oh well!
You were 16 years old
So much promise to unfold
But let’s playback the recording
of a future aborted
The die was cast
you ran hard, you ran fast
But you never escaped
those devils of your past
Will you taste like sweet wine
or just like bitter brine?
Will I savor the drink
or spit it out into the sink?
Oh well
Are you the wisdom
of a thousand years?
Oh well
Or just a mixture
of my deepest fears?
Oh well, oh well!
[pre-chorus]]
You’ve been living half a century
but you haven’t yet
learned your responsibility
You wanna kill the verse
Get right to the refrain
duck out before the bow,
skip town on a train
You wanna flip the bird
But the bird flipped on you
You wanna kick some ass
But the foot’s on the other shoe
[chorus]
The birdy flipped on you
Now what you gonna do?
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5. |
Training
02:12
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There are no lyrics ... yet ;). There may never be. But you can make up your own words :-).
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6. |
Gem Under Glass
04:06
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Make up your eyes
in blue mascara.
Wear your brave smile;
their cracks won't scare ya.
Wide angle frames
obscure your shame.
Dart 'round the room
smash cut and zoom!
These pom pom girls
can be so cruel.
When into their world
appears a jewel.
They ain't your type,
all bluster and hype.
This ain't your scene,
it's so mainstream.
You're rare; serene.
Gem under glass
this, too, will pass.
They're so unkind
but your beauty shines.
Take your time:
write your rhyme.
They will grow old,
but they'll never get wise.
Wipe tear-stained cheek,
runny eyeliner.
Don't let 'em see you weak,
the crowd at the diner.
Don't avert your gaze -
no glimmer of doubt.
Life is just a maze
for you to figure out.
Gem under glass
life goes fast.
Leave them behind
Let your beauty shine.
Take your time:
write your rhyme.
They will grow old
but they'll never get wise.
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7. |
Standing On My Head
03:20
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He was sitting right
across from her
and there were others,
similarly arranged
similarly, casually arrayed.
Let’s just say
so we can move this thing along.
But they had never been
so far apart
nor were their edges
ever quite so frayed
as they were
on that very day.
chorus:
She was so full of life
and he was dying in slo-motion
And I should probably stop
telling this right now
History’s reworded
by the loser not the winner
just in case
the meaning gets perverted
just keep telling them
its better than truth
We’re speaking for you
And no one really cares
if you were once
a first-class sinner
Call me what you want
just don’t call me
late for dinner
Have a good night
He said, like whispering a curse
Have a good night
I think I double parked my hearse
chorus:
She was so full of life
and he was dying in slo-motion
And I should probably stop
telling this right now
I can do this standing
on my head
The judge, she gave me five
I could do ten
It would be funny
If it weren’t so true
She was genuinely happy
and people were drawn to her
She was gifted at weaving anecdotes
from threadbare bits of nothing.
I’d walk into a party,
she’d be telling some tale.
Everyone there, wide-eyed and transfixed.
Stuck to her like magnets on a fridge
She was moving them without a trace
of effort or guile,
just moving them into place
like phrases in a poem.
But they smiled at her and
tapped their glasses
who knew that the halo she wore
was really just a trick of light, ya know
like what happens sometimes
I sat there pregnant with verse
my viper tongue was well-rehearsed
but averse to that crowd
i said nothing aloud
I just added cheeky letters
to post it notes
with traces of her pencil’s ghost
Rearranging magnets
on refrigerator doors
at stranger’s houses
to smite her
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8. |
O Cynthia!
03:10
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O Cynthia
I’ll sin for ya
Will you sin for me
in a symphony
of desire?
No need to
light a fire;
we’re hotter
than the torch
that sets
the Devil’s forge
aflame.
And anyway,
one fine day,
we may wind up
you and I,
as toads
or newt’s eyes
swirling in
a witches cauldron.
Yes one day soon
it’s true
we’ll have to pay
for all our youthful
transgressions;
we’ll be forced to make
(tearful) confessions.
[bridge]
Pointed fingers,
scarlet letters,
all the better
we should not wait
to consummate.
Then we’ll meet our fate
as it comes.
As the church bell tolls
and the hangman
beats his drum.
[pre chorus]
Oh sin with me
Just behind that tree
where the serpent lies
with his wizened eyes
You can sympathize
with his lot in life.
Oh sin with me
before that sad day comes
'fore the setting sun
lights a crimson sky.
[Chorus]
O Cynthia!
I’ll sin for ya
will you sin with me
in a symphony
of desire?
Crescendoing higher
Until we meet our fate
Our date with infamy
and the flames
of the funeral pyre.
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9. |
Etude,'sup?
01:31
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10. |
Bound To Disappoint You
02:57
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I’m bound to disappoint you
eventually;
frustrate and annoy you,
just you wait and see.
Don’t crown or anoint me
prematurely
because I’m bound
to disappoint you eventually.
I’m found to disjoint
most who come across me.
Now I know it's hard to fathom
this other side of me.
We’re like Eve and Adam
before the snake up the tree.
“Ignorance is bliss”
on that we can agree.
But I’m bound to disappoint
you eventually.
[bridge]
I shadow boxed
and was decked by my ghost.
My spirit animal
applied for another host.
Let’s promise each other
we’ll never hide who we are
behind some perfectly fictional
lonely avatars
2x
I’m bound to disappoint you
eventually
and you’ll frustrate and annoy me
that’s ele-men-ta-ry
Like Adam and his Eve
after knowledge from the Tree
We’re bound to disappoint
each other that’s plain to see.
I stroll around in boxers
you prefer fig leaves.
I like tighty whiteys
you prefer fig leaves!
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11. |
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I’m holed up in the corner
of a broke-ass brain
But I’m the best conductor
Of my own crazy train
My heart is being gutted
So I’m up here alone
Trying to make some beats
With a rotary phone
Oh I should just be happy
That no one was hurt
Oh wait—scratch that I was
My shit’s buried in dirt
I tried to be so woke
I couldn’t fall asleep
So I tried to make some
Beats that go bleepity beep
Some broke-ass beats
W/ a rotary phone
Look what he gets up to
When there’s nobody home
Broke-ass beats
On a rotary phone
Two cocoanuts, a gourd
And a muthafukin scone!
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12. |
The Bird Has Flipped
01:34
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Drip by drip
the teardrops slip
into a deepening pool of sorrow
What a gyp
The bird is flipped
and you're feeling like
there’s no tomorrow
Will you taste like sweet wine
Or just like bitter brine
Will I savor the drink
Or spit it out into the sink?
Oh well
Are you the wisdom of a thousand years?
Oh well
Or just a mixture of my deepest fears?
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13. |
Don't Let That Boy
05:12
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Don't Let That Boy ...
Lay out your cookies
for Santa Claus.
Light up your runways
made of candles, rope and straw.
You may know Him tonight
only if all is made right.
Tune in the signal
from the bamboo wireless.
Baton of thimbles
wave him safely home from flight.
We may know Him tonight;
only if all is made right.
chorus
But don’t let that boy corrupt you
Don’t let his truth tear you down;
No one can destroy or disrupt who
you were before he came to town.
So don’t let that boy corrupt you
oh no.
We never realized
what was missing in our lives
Until you showed us
how to use electric knives
We can’t live without
Your canned goods, VD and gout.
bridge:
Don't let that world implore you
Forget it’s lure, it ain't for you
John Frum sprinkled fairy dust
inseminating clouds
rained down new iPhones
virgin born and wrapped in shrouds.
We were starting to doubt
what we could afford to do without.
chorus
But don’t let that boy corrupt you
Don’t let his truth stare you down;
No one can destroy or disrupt who
You were before he came to town
So don’t let that boy corrupt you
No, no.
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14. |
Feet Of Clay
02:05
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Goin to work
my temple is throbbing
stomach hurts
no sign of stopping
You send advice
from far away
where life is sweet;
no bills to pay.
To think I once
knelt at that shrine--
fed you grapes;
poured you wine.
Now I sit here
dumb, dismayed
the statue I built
has feet of clay.
the statue I built
has feet of clay.
the statue I built
has feet of clay.
Now I sit here
dumb, dismayed
the statue I built
has feet of clay.
All I needed was
a bit of contentment
Now my head is
riddled with resentment.
I just wanted
to drop my line
But you're the bait
it catches each time.
Leaves grow thick
in the backyard pool
Sky is dark
its starting to cool.
You send your love
from far away
where life is sweet
no bills to pay
.
Now I sit here
dumb, dismayed.
The statue we built
had feet of clay
. (5x)
The statue we built
had feet of clay
. (3x)
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15. |
Millennium Man
04:48
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Millennium Man
can’t understand
the New World Order
and the loss of God.
He’s choosing a partner
in the Danse Macabre.
He feels like a toy
for the Industry Boys:
the new Golden Calf
of the Cyber Age;
the weapon and tool
of his Father’s Faith.
He’s been down
this road before—
seen profit seekers
and carnivores--
size him up for a place
on the grinding mill.
So, he left his
home and his bed
Went on a search
for the cutting edge
All he found was
Retro Kids
in Shopping Malls.
Not the end of the world
for Millennium Girl
She’s (just) got a bad case
of the post-modern blues.
She’s spending her future
on yesterday’s news.
Let the Chemical Rain
wash them away:
All the sinners and fools
masquerading as saints.
Leave them like bugs
in a ring round the drain.
We’ve been down
this road before—
seen profit seekers
and carnivores--
size us up for a place
on their grinding mills.
Leave the gnomes
in the shed
Let’s go on a search
for a different head
Find ourselves to the door
of the House on the Hill.
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Crush Limbo North Bergen, New Jersey
Crush Limbo is the stage name of NY-NJ-based musician Colm Clark.
It's bedroom pop
meets Tin Pan Alley -- a world where glam gets it on with André Popp, teasing midlife symphonies from tear-shaped guordalins.
And in the grand tradition of Sondheim, Wonder, Bowie, and the Beatles — melody is key, baby, and tunes are where it's at.
... more
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