Brick Wall Blues

My life has been
On auto-pilot so long
I forgot where I was going
With this joke

Lately things have been kind of chaotic
But I’m in the same place nearly every single day
Getting hit in the face by that punch
Line

It feels like a setup
But the rhythm’s all wrong
And in comedy, timing is
Everything

Comedy is history
Played in reverse
Yes comedy is history
Played in reverse

I’m dying up here
In front of this brick wall
A firing squad
And an exposed brick wall

It’s funny when it happens
To somebody else
But we both know exactly
What I’m talking about

And it’s funny, you know
That the funny thing is
That it never
Turns out to be funny

Comedy is history
Played in reverse
Yes comedy is history
Played in reverse

Lyric For LCK

I'm walking the streets of Manhattan
In the rain
Taking pictures of street scenes and people
In the rain
And I'm thinking of you
And where you've gone to
And the things that you do
That make me feel blue
I'm walking the streets of Manhattan
In the rain

People are strange but a dog will always
Be your friend
They speak in a language that anyone
Can understand
And I'm thinking of you
And where you've gone to
And the things that you do
That make me feel blue
People are strange but a dog will always
Be your friend

In the cafe I start feeling old
The breeze from the street brings a shivering cold
The piles of books that are sitting unsold
The coffee that comes out too bitter and bold

So I'm walking the streets of Manhattan
In the rain
Yes I'm walking the streets of Manhattan
In the rain

Had To Have You

V1.
You made me wait so long
With all your carrying on
But I had to have you

I couldn't be that strong
To be your tag along
Still I had to have you

C1.
That night
Did it feel right
Or was just a flight
Of my imagination?
You know
That I would stand and fight
If it just might
Get me your invitation

V2.
You had me on the phone
Tryin' to hold my own
But I just had to have you

Did I play the fool
Did I lose my cool
Cause I just had to have you?

C2.
That night
Did it feel right
Or was just a flight
Of my imagination?
You know
That I would stand and fight
If it just might
Get me your invitation

B.
Walk you down the avenue
It's all I could do and I think that you knew
That I just had to have you

C3.
That night
Did it feel right
Or was just a flight
Of my imagination?
You know
That I would stand and fight
If it just might
Get me your invitation

Mutual Interest

The vociferous Blue Jay
Says don’t eat my babies.
The cat says
I just want to play.
So she stares at him
And he stares at her
And that is how
They spend the day.

Lee Knight's Dream

Yeah, so I was talking
To Stephen Hawking
He sounded just like the ghost
Of Marc Bolan.

We drove to his house
And he showed me where to park
My car so it wouldn't
Get stolen.

He plugged in his Tele
Straight into the amp
Pedals are for pussies
He said.

Man he sounded good
When he hit that first chord
It was like a choir directly
From God.

We swam in the surf
And we flew over valleys
He showed me cool places
In time.

And he told the body
Is just an illusion
You can go anywhere
In your mind.

There were all kinds of people
Who came to hang out
Edison and Washington
And Thoreau.

And we played rock and roll
Til the sun came up
Cause rock and roll
Is what frees your soul.

Then I woke up
Must have been a dream
But tonight I'm going to plug in my Tele
And make myself free.

And I'll swim in the ocean
And fly through the valleys
And visit cool places
In time.

Club Kids

circa 1992

 

Future Mrs. S and I were living on one floor of a Wicker Park rowhouse down the street from the Opus Dei church:


A couple of blocks away, there was a bar called the Artful Dodger:

There was a bar in the front room and a dance floor in the back. The well drinks from the bar came with glow sticks in them.

and the back room had black lights and trippy graffitti on the walls. Usually something like this was playing:


The Artful Dodger stayed open until 2. If you weren't ready to go home yet (remember the glow sticks?) you could walk up to Blue Note on Armitage, which was a super smoky basement bar that stayed open until 4. The jukebox was good, filled with Blue Note jazz records as well as classic Chicago blues:


If you still weren't ready to go home (some of those *glow sticks* lasted longer than others) you could walk across the Cortland bridge

past the Finkl factory

and over to Old Town, where you could get a greasy breakfast at Nookie's Diner.

I had a friend who lived in a coach house/studio above a garage in Old Town. She tended bar and kept strange hours but she was usually good for some French press coffee, a couple of bowls and some chill music:

Then on Monday morning, load up the Walkman with appropriate tapes for the ride in to work:



Good times, back in the day.

Just One More (For The End Of The Road)

The ring of success
Remains highly elusive
You find happiness
In the daily quotidian
Forget all the diamonds
Mine for obsidian
The resort of your life
Is not that exclusive

Tierra del Fuego
Is the ends of the earth
Where the mountains collapse
Into archipelago
Our guide is Chilean
The storm Argentinian
And none of us know
What any of this is worth

So pour me another
And make it a double
Pour me one more
For the end of the road

We did take the acid
And yes it was brown
Just like the music
In the quickening mud
Just like the swan dive
And the sickening thud
The car's in the ditch
Shall we hitch
Back to town?

So pour me another
And make it a double
Pour me one more
For the end of the road

Double A Blues

My shoulder is in shreds
My elbow is hanging by a thread
But you don't need a slurve
To live a suburban life

It got me some girls
And put me through school
And showed me which diners
Are open all night

And you still love the game
But the game don't love you back
So they put you off the bus
And you have to find another track

I keep working out
Cause it's just what you do
And I keep going to rehab
While the insurance comes through

I know what it's like
To be the king of the hill
To be a man amoung boys
To give a giant crowd thrills

But now I'm just a guy
With a bad arm
And a pile
Of bills

In A Nutshell

Thank you.
I’m sorry.
Please?
You’re welcome.

:)

Scott, Bob, Leo, Jay-Z and Me

The feeling
Of being
Fourteen
And reading
The Great Gatsby
For the very
First time.
Is concrete
Yet ineffable
Present
Yet unattainable
Like the green light
At the end
Of that Long Island
Dock.

I'm craggy
And weathered
Just like
Robert Redford
With a bittersweet
Nostalgia
For an earlier
Time.
It's concrete
Yet ineffable
Present
Yet unattainable
Like the green light
At the end
Of that Long Island
Dock.

We were all
Young once
But only
That once
And yes
It was terrible
But I do
Miss it so.
Concrete
Yet ineffable
Present
Yet unattainable
Like the green light
At the end
Of that Long Island
Dock.

Balaji

So you left
And life went on
Except for the plants
Which died
Due to lack of water
And the loss
Of your sunny personality

Broken/Crack

He was kind of eccentric
But he smoked weed
And stayed up late into the night

He was kind of dyslexic
But he'd bless himself
To tell his left hand from his right

He taped the Russian broadcasts
From Cuba
Turned that Morse code into sound

He got married to a woman
Then she went crazy
Might have been the other way around

When you feel like you are broken
Things around you tend to crack
Yeah when you feel like you are broken
Things around you, they tend to crack

His wife she was a poet and a painter
You'd see her dancing down the street
Wearing out her toe shoes on the sidewalk
Dancing up and down the street

And you knew that she was crazy
But I knew her from way back when she was fun

When you feel like you are broken
Things around you tend to crack
Yeah when you feel like you are broken
Things around you, they tend to crack

First Day of Spring

I like the slinky mystery
Of your silky nylon tights
I like the way you look around
At the traffic light

I like the curve down from your back
That snakes over your hips
I like that glossy hint of cherry
Peeking off your lips

I know I've got the fever
You know you've got it too
Spring has sprung, let's get to work
There's things we gotta do

I like that slit down in your skirt
That button on your blouse
I like the wobble in your walk
On heels inside the house

And the kids say eeew
Poke me in the eye
They say eeew
Please just let me die
They say eeew
But it's the first day of spring
So yeah, I gotta sing
Even if it's TMI

I know I've got the fever
You know you've got it too
Spring has sprung, let's get to work
There's things we gotta do

And the kids say eeew
Poke me in the eye
They say eeew
Please just let me die
They say eeew
But it's the first day of spring
So yeah, I gotta sing
Even if it's TMI

Shell Game

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whoami
whois
bye

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quit

An Orange Julius on the way to Judy Gap

An Orange Julius on the way to Judy Gap
Dad was chewing gum and driving
Mom was looking at the map
The river was off to our left
The mountain to our right
As we drove that lonesome valley road
In the West Virginia night

My brother was in the back with me
He had a flashlight and a book
And I so dearly wanted to be him
And have him give me that look
But instead I stared out the back of the car
At a West Virginia night
And a sky full of stars

A couple of summers, a couple of winters
We would go a few weeks at a time
Mom always made a happy noise
At the Pocahontas County sign
The snow was deep, and would pile in drifts
That went above my thigh

Dad called it the cabin but Mom called it the farm
I don't know why; all it grew was rock
We had river rock and mountain rock
Every kind you could desire
An apple orchard and a swimming hole
And a tree hung with a tire

Dad took us on a day trip
To see the telescope
Everyone listened to what he said
People laughed at all of his jokes
We had lunch in the break room
There was no Dairy Queen
But it was good to be with Dad
And we got to eat ice cream

I don't really remember just how it went down
Dad got more distant
Mom spent her nights in town
I might have been out playing
I might have been taking a nap
But I'll always remember the Orange Julius
On the way to Judy Gap

Hey Stephen

Don't stay cooped up in the house
Get outside once a day
It's ok to talk to strangers
But don't trust what they say
And if you're not comfortable
If your mind is going astray
Ask the little voice inside
Is this really insane?

And if it is, that's ok
Just say you have to go
Walk, don't run, and call my cell
When you get back home.
You've made lots of progress
I'm really proud of you
Take your meds and trust your friends
We're here to help you through.

Argh, here it comes again
I don't like the way this feels
Here it comes again
Here it comes
Here it comes

Why did you say that?
That's just insane.
Why did you do that?
That's just insane.
Why did you think that?
I'm going insane.

If you are, that's ok
Just say you have to go
Walk, don't run, and call my cell
When you get back home.
You've made lots of progress
I'm really proud of you
Take your meds and trust your friends
We're here to help you through.

On Listening To Nine Inch Nails

Angst is just awkward, an anxious state
A misplaced foot and Germanic A
Full of fear and trembling and emotions displaced
A Mitteleuropa mark from a time and a place

Aloha is Hawaiian and thus hard to say
Too many vowels, they get in your way
You need a uke or a slack key guitar
The far northern tropics is where you are

A drone doesn't work if it's strictly alone
It must be detuned with a beat in its own
Overtones and modes and the root which is home
It's a solid yet fragile harmonic zone

Distortion distortion piled on top
Bitcrushed or boogex or amps that won't stop
Communist industry, factory grind
The whine of a saw on the grate of your mind

I feel angst
War between the classes
I feel angst
Wanna fuck my mother
I feel angst
I lost my archetype
But underneath it all you know
You can't believe the hype

The fruits of his labor
Are taken from the worker
The profit and the ease
Are taken by another
The specter in my dreams
Looks just like my father
The power of the message
Makes you just like any other 

Mountain

V1
I was born a strong mountain
Time has been a strong rain
I'm still standing but if I fell down
I couldn't get up here again

V2
Hacked with picks and drilled with mines
They suck on my blood like wine
Seasons turn while the west wind blows
I've grown so incredibly old

C1
I'm the man in the mountain, baby
It's the job I was born to do
Atlas never knew why he was there
But for me, I do it for you

V3
Shoulders slumped on a back that's cracked
A rock slide paralyzed my face
Each year a little more comes off the top
Crags crumble and fall out of place

V4
Down below I see the fertile plain
Where you plant and harvest your grain
I did that, I built it, I made it for you
Because that is the job I was born to do

C2
I'm the man in the mountain, baby
It's the job I was born to do
Atlas never knew why he was there
But for me, I do it for you

Sexy Time

V1
The dishwasher hums
Shoes tidied away
Watched the Daily Show
Talked about our day
Second glass of wine
Love seat just for two
Feeling warm and cozy
Some things I wanna do

PC1
I wanna touch your edges
I wanna go in deep
I'm feeling like it's sexy time
But now you're fast asleep

C1
Sexy time
(wanna do it in our)
Sexy time
(wanna be up in your)
Sexy time
But the hours in the day
Somehow manage to just slip away

V2
The house is dark and quiet
The birds begin to sing
Dawn reaches the window
Not worried about a thing
I'm lying in our bed
Alarm an hour away
Feeling warm and cozy
I'm all ready to play

PC2
Come on and touch my edges
I wanna feel you deep
I'm feeling like it's sexy time
But now you're fast asleep

C2
Sexy time
(wanna do it in our)
Sexy time
(wanna be up in your)
Sexy time
But the hours in the day
Somehow manage to just slip away

B
Kids and jobs and daily life
Family gripes and workplace strife
Everything balanced on the edge of a knife
But you're still my husband and I am still your wife
(so we'll have)

C3
Sexy time
(I don't know when but it's still)
Sexy time
(I love to feel you in our)
Sexy time
We'll just slip away
And find another hour in the day

John Ashbery

We're meeting uptown in the New York Public Library
Hanging in the city with my bud, John Ashbery
Inside the daily details he's saying something really deep
You gotta brush your teeth and you always gotta get your sleep
We'll speak in French translation and we'll tour the artist's gallery
Hanging in the city with my bud, John Ashbery

It's a list
With a twist
Which will be quite amusingly witty
Oh what bliss
(Oh my lisp)
But you look so unbearably pretty
It's cocktails and showgirls and glam evening wear
A night out in Manhattan with nary a care
When I enter the party everyone will stare
But inside I'm incredibly lonely 

The cocktail jazz furnishings of the living room
Are unsuited to our urban/R&B lifestyle.
The invitations keep piling up
Although I'm not sure if I am too interested
In sharing time that way. Can't I just
Acquire my own greedy pile
To spend however I wish?
I've known John for years
We went to school together
But recently he's been getting
Rather dog eared. A little floppy
Not perking up whenever I walk into a room
Wearing one of my fancy Nantucket sweaters
Like I did on the Cape when we first met