1. |
Gin
02:47
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The teacher sat under the table and drank of a terrible gin
The sorrow of being unwanted had left him thin
The poet had gone for a bottle, returning with only a verse
The words brought the teacher no comfort, it just made the gin taste worse
So he said, voice quite weak, “one more table over me…”
“Hiding heaven from my grief; one more table over me…”
The poet had found the piano, and he struck-up a terrible key
The lullaby, though it was sour, had drawn the poor teacher to sleep
The teacher had slowly forgotten the chemistry, physics, and prose
And the history stole from the bookshelf, to the alcohol under his nose
So he said, voice quite weak, “one more table over me…”
“Hiding heaven from my grief; one more table over me…”
The poet had gone for some water, but he found out the kitchen was dry
So he too, climbed under the table, and let-out a terrible cry!
And he said, voice quite weak, “one more table over me…”
“Hiding heaven from my grief; one more table over me…”
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2. |
Ms. Darla Grey
03:45
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Miss Darla Grey, dinosaur egg
Ratty old lace with a smell you can taste
No, she never been kind; no, she never been young
Always broken glass on the tip of her tongue
Darla Grey was a funeral, just business as usual
Yeah, Miss Darla Grey
No she’s never had this, she ain’t never had that
Keeps a mean little eyes beneath the brim of her hat
She used to be rich, now she’s a filthy old thrift
Like a little piranha, draws blood with every kiss
Darla Grey was a funeral, just business as usual
Yeah, Miss Darla Grey
With all the bare little threads, she might be meaner than death
Saw the sickness of age without the respite of rest
Kept the demeanor of plague spending every day
Thinking of awful new ways to bring the whole world pain
Darla Grey was a funeral, just business as usual
Yeah, Miss Darla Grey
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3. |
The Filth of Frogtown
04:24
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Georgia Barker lived in Frogtown
Everyone called her “Bad George” (affectionately)
She wore a buzzcut flattop and a leather jacket with the arms ripped off
She drove a trash truck called the “The Trashy Lady”
Seaside, alright! Yeah, they were the filth of Frogtown
Trashy! Lady! Roll so righteous, pack that trash down
Had a best friend Sam, who was ex-KGB (it’s true)
They picked-up all the people’s trash in Frogtown
Talking about girls they maybe liked, or didn’t like
Listening to the New York Dolls real loud with the windows rolled-down
Seaside, alright! Yeah, they were the filth of Frogtown
Trashy! Lady! Roll so righteous, pack that trash down
Yeah, they were the filth of Frogtown
Roll so righteous, pack that trash down
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4. |
My Love
02:22
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My Love said she was my baby, that’s right
My Love told me she and me would never fight
She don’t tell me where she goes at night
My love isn’t anymore
My Love, she’s so rotten, she’s a mess
But she looks so fine in that little blue dress
My Love said she had to take the dress back
My Love said that she was gettin’ too fat
She looks skinnier every day
God, how my Love is wasting away
My Love, she’s so rotten, she’s a mess
But she looks so fine in that little blue dress
My Love told me she would always be true
Now I find out she’d rather be with you
My Love’s gone, yeah, she’s running away
My Love’s gone, and it’s better that way
My Love, she’s so rotten, she’s a mess
But she looks so fine in that little blue dress
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5. |
She Wrote a Book
03:43
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She cleared the shelves of every book
To try and find the pills he took today
But she stayed…
She took two tabs of Vicodin
Can’t tell the pills from the bottle that they’re in
And she swore “no more!”
Could’ve been gone in the time that it took
Tried to leave a note but she wrote a book instead
And what it said was “I’ll be gone before you’re out of bed”
But mostly it said “Goodbye.”
Theodore Logan said “c’est la vie,”
Resonating misery, he screams out in disbelief
“Why’d she leave?!?!”
Took two tabs or Percocet
Anymore and he’ll forget her name
And all her pain…
Could’ve been clean in the time that it took
To throw away that hollowed-out old book
But he knew he couldn’t face the things he’d have to do
Just to say “Goodbye.”
Could’ve been gone in the time that it took
Tried to leave a note but she wrote a book instead
And what it said was “I’ll be gone before you’re out of bed”
But mostly it said “Goodbye.”
Theodore Logan, by himself, puts the books back on the shelf…
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6. |
My Friends and Me
03:18
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If I were a soldier I probably would not make it
The training is unpleasant and the hours are outrageous
If I were a Doctor, I probably would not make it
The cost of school’s so high, and I certainly would not pay it
So I’m glad that I’ve got friends and we ain’t half-bad
When we play our Rock and Roll music
So chase after your money, go buy all the things
That imperative reaching, reaching your American dream
I had a vision: you’re gonna work yourself to death
And when you need that sweet release, it’s this music that’s gonna lay you to rest
This music…
I’m glad that I’ve got friends and we ain’t half-bad
When we play our Rock and Roll music
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7. |
Sydney
02:58
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Sydney, I saw
So very small
Throwing eyes at me for so long
Body bade me to belong…
Sydney, with me we’d crawl
And all the awful days we’d call
Bad memories, but we’d be wrong
My second chance has come and gone…
Sydney, I loved and lost
And one more chance was all I got
Getting poisoned, strung-up, stabbed or shot
Would be a lot like loving you…
I am oil in the sea
I’m as calm as I can be
And if you swim where I am thin
You may not even notice me
But if you swim where I am deep
Then you will seize and choke on grief
Till your eyes roll dead into your head
I can’t forget what Sydney said…
Sydney, I loved and lost
And one more chance was all I got
Getting poisoned, strung-up, stabbed or shot
Would be a lot like loving you…
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8. |
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I had a vision of a mask
That changed its face and then collapsed
From agony the face relaxed
With no more questions left to ask
When I called him he just sat there
Let his phone ring on
For miles and miles and I wonder why…
I said no one would have to die tonight
He still went and pulled that trigger
Oh my God...
I had a vision of the sea
And a million rows of trees
I saw a circuit, incomplete
And I heard a redbird scream for me
When I found him he just sat there
Bleeding from his eyes, and nose and mouth, and his ears
And out the back of his head…
I said no one would have to die tonight
He still went and pulled that trigger
Oh my God..
I had a vision of a mask
That changed its face and then collapsed…
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9. |
Day of the Lines
03:38
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I kept a couple words you gave to me
Pressed flowers with a blurred intensity
I cut down all the trees I climbed with you
I never spoke the words that rhymed with you
Hey, let’s pretend to be clever and fine
Bring a river to life in your mind
Leaving cuts in the earth over time
All because it refuses to climb
Though I’m sure it could if it tried
I took down all the frames you kept us in
Killed all the little thoughts connecting me to them
There was a time when I thought it would work
I’d cook and you’d make the dessert
And we’d speak what we used to call words
Either side of the bridge as it rots
Over a valley that strangers don’t cross
On the way the sun comes up and falls apart
So the day prepares itself, but does not start
Now, so we come to the last of my thoughts
It may be sad but it’s all that I’ve got
In the morning I’m sure that I’ll be fine
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10. |
He Treats Me Like Syrup
04:37
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He was clean-shaven, he was life-saving
Skinny and pale, but not too tall though
He stuck to bad mirrors, only looking at himself
Broken and smoking, like everyone I know
I’ve got everybody I need, just to keep talking to me
To sleep only with me in my small bed
Nelson Mandela’s been freed; they tell me Tibet’s still Chinese
But I can’t fall asleep with all of these thoughts in my head
He was a nothing, it was so touching
Ghosts of joy and gloom, like in an old western
And he treats me like syrup, and no one goes near us
Blistering two-plus eyes always looking right through us
I’ve got envy, jealousy, and greed, just to keep people away
Nobody to play in my air space
Quickly playing a set, strictly posing a threat
Thinking I’m a better somebody than anyone else in this place
And he treats me like syrup, and he treats me like syrup
I stare at the clouds, and no, I’ll never look down at you, or anything
But he treats me like syrup, oh, he treats me like syrup
All of the time…
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Good Form Jack Indianapolis, Indiana
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