1.
Put It In Words
2. The Moon Spikes The Lonely Dome
3. Sailing The Atlantic
4.
Europe
5. Erect A Hero
6. Empty Rooms
7. In The Company Of Artists
8.
Old Age Should Burn
9. Tombstone Graveyard
10. Baptized In The Sink
11.
The Motto Of Sisyphus
12. The Makers
NOTE: This
is a spoken word album PUT IT IN WORDS Foreign shores disguise
the scene
It's a Mediterranean dream
Dreams of travels and your time in
this land
From city to city, from concrete to sand
The faulty faces that
disappear into Venice
Like caged birds, dying and floating downstream
I cast my line into the sea
And you came flailing back at me
The wooden
kimono
The six-dollar grin
The bridge, the red curtains
The Spanish
Steps
The sun coming through the stain glass window
I want to imbibe these
things
Face up to wake up
The Italian candle
The shimmer of the candlestick
You polished at dinner, your work was quick
The vampires in Paris
That
disappeared
Into the subway, where the axe man cleared
A guillotine for
you and your sordid ex
And your wanton lust for endless sex
The demarcations
on the train
The willow was sliced
And symbolized pain
You thought
of the scent of the fancied girl
And all the passion she unfurled
When
love was young
When love was real
Was that me?
Did that exist?
I don't remember
I don't remember
There is a world beyond the bus
There is a place where blind men see
There is a place where you are beautiful
And infinitely wise, indeed The simple myth that convalesced
While fate
twisted in the wind
The offer God made in Hades
The offer Zeus did rescind
I don't care to elevate
Beyond the broken, barroom dreams
More, more
Now, now
I want love
I want dreams in real life
I want to separate
the artificial
From the real
To get it out
To speak the truth
Maybe this is insanity
Senility is horrible
But I love grandma's unpredictable
inanities
I will always write
It is my solace
Perhaps, my only plight
Benign, malignant
Broken, battered, beautiful
That is me
The song
is 1000 years long
Goodbye, Georgia - Goodbye, Louisiana - Goodbye, Arkansas
- Goodbye,
Seattle - Goodbye, Queen Anne - Goodbye, Billy Joel - Goodbye,
symphonic strains - Goodbye, Bill Gates
And other assorted brains
I have
known you so well I never understood why
The bar closed at 2am
And
I'd want to stay up all night
Or why I could never get the rhythm right
Or why I never ended like in Hollywood
When life kept going after I thought
it ended
It was like a dream
And I saw everything as an illusion
A
riddle that had no beginning and no end
The serious creatures who
Crested
the shore
The pancake jaws
The omnipotent whore
The scum of the earth
Dancing bare
Beneath the stars
The premium of birth
Pay it quickly
And prove your worth
Perfume is so beautiful
I don't speak to the educated
mind
Don't think I take this to be highfalutin
The blinking yellow light
Shows
me that this is burlesque
This is the depot
The depot is crying
Ezmerelda
is dying
The soft carpet is stained with her tears
Finding the forest
But missing the deer
Damn - it's an illusion
An illusion
A symbiotic
Pittance of prose
Someone please, please
Thwart the beauty of the rose
THE MOON SPIKES THE LONELY DOME The moons spikes the lonely dome
The troubadour laments his lost home
The receptionist grabs her phone
The bus driver sings a lost melody
The grocery check taps her foot out of
rhythm The gangster - what a sorry sack
He doesn't know he lost his mack
Smells like cigarettes and stale beer
Someone get me out of here The love
was hard
The defeat made it real
He sat across from his star-crossed lover
And clenched her hand
Tears of joy rolled down her check
He said, "Why
do I feel so meek?"
Why can't you live with me
That art school in Paris
Kept you entertained
But let's be thankful
That your parents didn't spoil
you
You sat in your studio for hours and hours
You said to me: That's
the only time I feel OK
When I can inflict some order on my ideas
Some
order on this apartment
Those street walkers scare me
My habits they dare
me
The snare drum ensnares me
I'm too young for the garden party
I'm
too old for the clubs Felt too young for my skin
Felt too old to believe
I'd begin
Like the college night, amid the advertisers
The soft head falls
prey to the supervisors
Blessed be the strong
Who know their own song
And figure out how to find a place
Away from this wind-blown and troubled
race SAILING THE ATLANTIC The ship that dies in a sinking night
The death that sinks the soldier's might
To do what can be changed
I've
done my best
That's all that matters
Georgia blithely chatters
The
soft rain pitter-patters
The lilting moon
The solid oak
The tapestry
begins to choke
I believe that I can express it
Better than any human
I've known
I feel alone and paranoid
Not doomed to oblivion
In fact,
overjoyed
Life is great, it's beautiful and opulent
Time well spent
There are so many who are so intelligent
They have a direction
Their life
is not one of this self-referential nature
Say goodbye
Say goodbye
Let the dew fall in your eye
Gray buildings The ship that tilts on an
old, dead sea
The sailor sips and defines the neon sign
Devoted to a land
that might not be revealed
Devoted to the part of the heart
That forever
remains concealed EUROPE When I was in Europe
I felt like a
champion
Young and brash and obscene
Measuring out each dew drop of luck
Till the years snuck up on me Now it feels
Like a cruel trick
My compatriot
sips on his drink
And we amble under Caribbean skies
And don't allow much
time to think My cohort
He's younger than I am
And we both have a
sad way
Of knowing that things will end up falling apart
And these women
will never ever feel the same way My friend, Juan
He says if we could
Or out in the suburbs
We'd live an easy lifestyle
It would be easier
And bring us back to the way we felt
When we were in Europe ERECT A
HERO It always seemed
That your classic car carried some weight
You played Sinatra
And you played it straight Y ou were my hero
You
were my rock
You felt all too perfect
The way you swept all your dirt
like a mop
You were the only hero I knew I feel sorry for the gladiators
I feel sorry for the popstars
I feel sorry for the broken dreams
That
follow foreclosed home loans and repo-d cars
The sea is fair
The innkeeper
stays on the side of the highway
The auroras of spring
The autumnal break
The swan and the moon
With an eternal fire,
They force us to break
EMPTY ROOMS You sit alone with the books that you own
And read
with the flashlight
As the wind blows the white night And you ponder the
things you've been given
But not as long as you ponder
The things that
you can never have Now it's time
To say goodbye
You've been forced
to deal with the loss that you've had
So let's have a drink
And talk
of old times
Let's jam on some tunes
As we talk about photos of old days
And life in what is now
A series of empty rooms
Empty rooms You heard
the words of your dad
You sat in the hall
With the man from the paper
It was good to talk shop again
We are not the winners
But we are not
losers
We all are simple men
And the money your brother made
In the
stock market glide of '95 Twisted your thoughts
Into places where they
Shall always remain So you sit in the studio, in an old familiar room
Photos of yesterday that seem like cartoons
You look at the calendar To
plot your next move
So many expectations
So many things to prove I
suppose if we could live in that space of wonder
Lost in a kiss
Lost in
the depths of the thing that is always just out of reach So let's have a drink
And talk of old times
Let's jam on some tunes
As we talk about photos
of old days
And life in what is now
A series of empty rooms
Empty
rooms IN THE COMPANY OF ARTISTS I don't enjoy the company of artists
They complicate
They steal the thunder
Mine and God's In the company
of artists
In the company of artists They steal the lightening
They
paint it poorly
They obscure the beauty
The way an American obscures a
French "r"
It is not French
And it is not American
It is some hopelessly
futile bastard child In the company of artists
In the company of artists
Maybe it's that the artists I've known
Have been dilettantes
With
nothing real to say
They needed to dig deeper In the company of artists
In the company of artists OLD AGE SHOULD BURN Old age should burn
and rave at close of day
Youth should rage against the force of age
Let
me stop here
And observe this moment
Life is a test, playing a game of
chess with me
Poetry is the medium whereby one can connect with the infinite
The green flower
Bulbous and bright in its hues Walk along the docks,
with the burning news
You must fight the weight of the heavy sea
Each
time you struggle
You are in line with nature's greatest miracle
The struggle
makes the test seem real We all deal with the exit of youth
You look in
the mirror
Brown and tanned from age
Hardened by the time on stage
Still with the feeling of a man in a cage
Thomas Edison was right
When
he defied the force
And split the night
In a tightrope walk where the
comets blaze
And the core troubadour savors his bedroom gaze
With all
sex like torrents in a dawn brigade
Love has its pilots on the promenade
A puritan ethic
Transposed across a transparent screen
Where the lights
attach to the cross
And the midnight gleans
The real estate company
Has taken stock in this town
Pape Brunee knows how to make his paintings
Golden brown
It's comfortable and charming
The high country and the cozy
house beckons
While the techno beats bounce in the round
All of your needs,
my dear,
They are met right here
As I gently touch your white hand
It should finally be clear TOMBSTONE GRAVEYARD Tombstone graveyard
Try hard, get far
Hopefully drive a new car
Through back roads
The
time goes
Through slipknots and back hoes
Snow capped mountains
Blue
sky brigade
Walk along the soldier's promenade
Where do the rats go?
I'm in need of sleep
I think I saw Jehovah a half an hour ago
But no one
treats you well
You've got nothing to sell
Only skinny sticks and trees
Only pools of flies and bees
Only purple-black bags
And dimestore rags
And planes flying too close to the ground
You rich folk
Embassies to the
manhole
Take the jet, light the candle
And sing a hymn
For me and
you and the choir The mountains flow like water
The sun in the valley
And near the mayor's daughter
I know a place where you can hide
Where
no one will find you
Where your thoughts can glide
Do not let the people
scold you
Do not let your neighbors hold you
Ransom in the box where Svengalis
mold you
Try hard, try hard
Tombstone graveyard BAPTIZED IN THE
SINK You're never very far from the end
Is that what you want to know
my friend?
So don't worry about behaving
There's nothing to be saving
Unless, of course, you're closer than you think
Take a dip, cold as a skating
rink He was baptized in the sink
He was baptized in the sink Don't
ever feel like you're on the outside
Because there is no inside
When you
get there, you'll understand
You heard that the Hawk boys
Got together
and went out to the coast
You weren't sure what you were missing He was
baptized in the sink
He was baptized in the sink But the intelligentsia
made me assume the most
I imagine they're out there now
Proposing a toast
By the green hills and the mansions
And servants who wade in and out like
ghosts
But you never wanted to get that close, did you?
He was baptized
in the sink
He was baptized in the sink THE MOTTO OF SISYPHUS
I have seen a bluer color
On the 5th night there were bursting hues
Paint
a picture of the world
Make a note of the dew The sea is cold,
So
deep and blue
The sea looks bluer as my idea turns truer
A greener shade
transforms to a reddish hue Your visions of the grass
Of the glass buildings
The blue reminiscent, sad days
Prophets and Sisyphus could not have ever existed
Leave it where it is
Wake and take control
Your glass slippers
The joker is wild The hollow halls
Where folks disappear
I guessed
wrong
That it was your silhouette The Atlantic Ocean
Swallowed all
the sorrow
When we caught a plane
That took us away Queen Lucinda
The glass eyes, the patent lies
I want more than just to kiss you
Let's
have a fling You've got drugs to boot
You can destroy the loot
But
no matter what happens
I will always feel guilt That is something I can't
escape
With an orchestra taking
The symphony to a climax
When I took
the path Of the business man
I'm sorry
I was looking for something
That I could never find We are many
Here on the farm
Your child in
your arms
I hope he never grows to feel this regret I wish no one
Any job that's too hard
Goodbye to the hallow
Goodbye to dreams The
streetcar of hope
The story of Hamlet
The fall of Othello
Goodbye,
goodbye No one will be able to overcome the weight
Yet you have so much
at your fingertips
There are ghosts in the hall
They carry no promise
at all
We regret all that we lost So, so long ago
I do not want to say
goodbye
I have only regrets I hope they fade in time
Whatever possessions
you have, let them fade into mine THE MAKERS We are the makers,
you say
Your white Casper coat votes, it says "yeah" then "nay"
And the
Victorian is drunk in a bar
Vancouver seems so far See a play where the
characters grow gray
Everyone is bathed in black Wendy howls like the
wind
Panama Jack reads with his twin
Acid rain eats at the skin
Just
give me a place to rest A place to rest
I'll rest on the park bench
Gold choir chambermaid
In ancient rooms where royalty laid
Wonders of
an older world
Swallowed by the sea Wreathed by the sea girls
Seaweed
and sea girls If Jack plays his British tune
And the Architects
Build
moons by noon
I don't know where it will land Basted Yellow Sun
Marmalade
Jade with the flashing gun Lose something that you can't live without
Like a painter who throws some splatters
Of paint on a canvas
Your cartoon
art that was inspired by a wedding in Vegas
Somehow caught the attention of
critics down in Soho The retreats of the beats created a bitter end
For
she who expressed a sonorous voice in an angelic blend
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