Happy Birthday to me!

By the way, do you like Joseph Roth? I have been reading his stuff for almost twenty years (started with "Radetzky March"). He wrote a lot, and I like his voice. Just read "Tarabas, a Guest on Earth". Wonderful. Think you might like it.

Jimmy, I'm a little late in wishing you many happy returns of the day. Let it show with you!

Happy birthday Johny!

You’ve earned it!

There was cuckoo in the spring
I said, Sing, O cuckoo, sing
And a tit-willow in a tree
Sing Dear Bird, O Sing for me

Hey nonny nonny
Hey tit tit
Hey cuckoo cuck
Hey la

Yes, they said, enjoy our song
For spring is here, but won’t last long
And after summer, fall is here
And we birds will disappear

Hey nonny tit
Hey cuckoo cuck
O cuckoo tit
Hey la

So fuck your mistress while you may
Do your fucking while it’s day
For you too shall lose your vigor
And your youth will sadly wither

O tit o cock
O titty cock
Tit titty cock
Hey la

And sings the bird: O tit! O cock!
And ticks the clock:  O tick! O tock!
Waste not too much time in wooing
For when you’re dead there’s no more screwing

O tit o cock
O titty cock
Tit titty cock
Hey la


Possibly more fun, definitely not political

Today’s verse: 20 October 2017

No more champagne buffet brunches please
There’s a limit to what a guy can swallow
There’s only so much a man can take
Till his mind is numb and desire hollow

I remember the day when you went to sea
You knew I lied when I told you I’d follow
I knew you lied, you told me your heart ached
We both believed in a better tomorrow
Someday

Chorus:
Thank goodness for alcohol
Thank god for drugs
Only my brain hurts
My body just shrugs
Thank goodness for alcohol
Thank god for drugs


Work in progress. Please extrapolate and extend.

Everything We Know

Epistemology in the age of Trump.


All that you say, every lie you tell me’s
Just put on for show
Nothing is true, now I have lost my faith in
Everything we know

Almanacs and dictionaries
Had to be let go
They’re just as false as
Everything we know

In the libraries
There are no more books
Upon the shelf
Just “The Song of Myself.”

Stories we hear on television
And the radio
We know they’re all just as untrue as
Everything we know

Someday perhaps
Our faith will regrow
And we can believe in
Everything we know

We’ll retrieve
what we believe in
Everything we know

The good old songs

Stephen asked me if I could send him MP3s of the old Fast Fun recordings, so I created a Dropbox folder and added the most current address I have for each Spartan/Ragazzo. I put in the versions of 7 Songs and the Chicken Tape that Tracy digitized many years ago and the Brothers Twain album. If you'd like me to send a Dropbox invitation to a different address let me know.

The school year's beginning
It's the end of of the summer
Which means that it's the birthday of
Our favorite lady-drummer

Happy birthday, Tracette!

Oh Papa dear Papa, come back to the Bar
The church in the steeple strikes one...

Happy birthday! I love ya, Big Dummy.

La Belle au Bois Dormante

What I remember is that I was awakened by a man I’d never met kissing me.  He was a very handsome man, but I didn’t know him and that’s not how it’s supposed to work for nice girls from my background, believe me.  My breath must have been awful, since I’d been asleep for a hundred years. Yes, literally one hundred years.  It’s such a weird story. What they told me was that at my christening, someone, an old friend of the family, put a curse on me and said, “When the child first sees her own blood, she will die.” But she didn’t think it was a curse, she insisted it was a gift, and everyone was shocked and said, “Oh no, no, no, no no,” so she changed it, she said, “Then when first she sees her own blood she’ll fall into a deep deep sleep.  She’ll grow up as graceful and beautiful as a flower and then she’ll fall into a deep deep sleep. She won’t die, she’ll fall into a deep sleep when first she sees her own blood.”  But no one in my family ever told me about this, until afterwards I mean.  It’s crazy. I was a baby obviously but as I got older they all knew I had this curse on me and they never told me about it. They didn’t want to or they didn’t think they should or something. I know. I know. That’s what my family’s like.

So I wasn’t ready for it, but sure enough it happened just she like said, one hundred years. I had nice dreams though, I remember that, and then I woke up and it was a hundred years later, and this man I didn’t know was kissing me, and I wasn’t ready, there was a layer of dust lying everywhere, over everything, and I remember I thought to myself, oh if only I could just sleep a little longer.

Well I ended up marrying this handsome man who kissed me even though I didn’t know him, and we’ve had a lovely life together, full of balls and banquets and horse-drawn processions, and everybody loves the story of how we met.  He’s a wonderful provider, a good husband, a good father, and his head looks fantastic on the coins and stamps.  The older I get, though, the more I realize I really was given a gift, maybe it was a curse but I see why she would have thought of it as a gift appropriate for a newborn.  Sometimes now my husband will wake me up by kissing me, very gently, and it’s so sweet and beautiful but still, all the same, I think, sometimes I think if only I could have slept a little longer.  Just a little bit more.

Monologue

When I woke up they said to me, it was you, you were the one who did it, it was you who did all those things and the things they said, they said it was me but it wasn’t, it wasn’t me or it wasn’t, how shall I say, it was not me that’s talking right now, it’s not me who says I am I right now, does that make sense? It was another one.  I don’t think it does.  I see that, I see that it doesn’t make sense but what I mean is that the one who is myself, the one that I am right now, the one who I say I am, that one was asleep.  That one is me, it is I and I was asleep and so then you see, right? That I couldn’t have, I couldn’t have been there and I couldn’t have done it because I was here, I was asleep.  It was a dream and I was asleep and now I’m still asleep, I am still in this dream or, I don’t know any more, maybe it’s another one, maybe it’s a different dream but I think I’m asleep and having a dream, that’s all, it’s not me, it’s—I don’t know who but not me, not I, I am still asleep. It’s a dream, that’s all, but I don’t like this dream and they keep telling me what I did, but I didn’t, it didn’t happen, or it didn’t happen like that, like they say it did, or it did but it was someone else, anyway, no, I do not like this dream.  I keep trying to wake up and see what happened, or see what it is that’s happening, or that keeps happening and they keep telling me it was you, you did those things and then they tell me all the things they say I did, and I’m talking to them, I’m explaining it and they keep saying it was you, it was you, and no, no I do not like this dream.  It can’t be like that, like everyone says, like everyone keeps telling me, that can’t be it.  That can’t be right.  That’s what I keep saying.  That I was asleep, that it was a dream.  A bad dream though.  A very bad dream.  I remember…I don’t remember, I don’t think I can remember, but it was a very bad dream.  I can’t tell if it’s over, it seems like it’s over now and I’ve woken up, and then I hear how bad it is, how bad everything is and I think no, that’s not it.  That’s something different.  I remember and it’s bad, it’s a very bad dream, but it’s different from what they say, but then that’s not the dream, it’s not that dream, it’s not what they say, it’s not me, it’s not me that did it.  Not me, but…I don’t know. I don’t know who.  Another.  Someone else. You know?  I think there’s someone, there’s a guy wearing my clothes, everything, my shoes, my watch, my voice, but he says, what he says, first of all, it’s much more, how shall I say.  More confident-sounding, I guess, he’s much more confident-sounding than I am, like, he’s pretending to be me but he’s actually better at it than I am.  You know?  He’s better at being me than I am at being me, but that’s not right. I’m asleep, it’s night time and I’m asleep, but he’s out there and everyone seems to think he’s right, when they hear what he says it seems right, but that’s not what I would, that’s now how I’d, I don’t know. He was talking, he was talking and he was saying all sorts of things like I do and the weird thing is that I could hear him, I could hear what he was saying even though I wasn’t there, I don’t know how, maybe that was the dream and I could hear him, it was like me, it was, it was like things I would say but it wasn’t.  It wasn’t, it was much more, I don’t know, more clever maybe, clever and interesting and people seemed to be listening and they liked it but it wasn’t me. And do you know what he said.  It’s not, I know it’s not true, all those stories he told, they’re not true but I wouldn’t call them lies.  And even what I’m saying right now.  I mean who’s saying it.  Who’s speaking right now.  It’s me, it’s me of course because—you can tell right?  You can tell that this is me and it shouldn’t be, no it should be, it’s right but now I don’t know any more.  I can’t tell.  And no one would listen.  They all said, they all kept saying I did it, you shot at that boy they said, you covered those people’s faces and made them stand on that stool, all those things, you did that, and you know what it was, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me I was asleep and then he, you know the other one, he said, that one said, well then someone did it for you.  You wanted to, I didn’t want to but he said I wanted to, he said I wanted to and someone did it for me, he used my name and he did it for me and now you’re happy, you can admit it, you know this is what you wanted and I’m not…I don’t…I didn’t do it and I didn’t want it and now I can’t get rid of it. I can’t get away from it and everyone says it was me and I can’t wake up.  And he keeps saying, he keeps telling me that even if you didn’t hold that guy down, even if you weren’t the one who grabbed that woman and started choking her, which even if you did it was OK, you did what you thought was right, but even if that wasn’t you, still you know what you’ve done.  You know what you’ve done and it’s just as bad.  You’ll never straighten it out, you’ll never be OK but think it over, really it’s OK.  He says, you can never come back from this.  After what you’ve done, no you can never go back.  What you’ve lost is lost forever. But you know you would have lost it anyway so in that way, yes it’s OK. That’s not true, or I don’t know maybe that part is true. That I’ll lose, you know, lose everything I guess, I don’t want that to be true.  It doesn’t have to be.  Do you know what he told me? This really was a lie I think, I mean I know it’s not true, he said—I know, I know I shouldn’t fall for it, but he said don’t worry, things can be like they were before, everything will be like it used to be and that’s just what I wanted to hear, I knew it wasn’t true but that’s what I wanted to hear, he said things could be like they were before. But that it could be over and I could just forget, no I don’t believe that. I think if everyone would stop saying it, if someone would just say yes of course you were asleep and it was a dream but not if I say it. Not if it’s just something I’m saying to myself.  You know? But I think, I don’t know it seems like it can’t be just a dream. If it’s a dream, if it’s only a dream, then this is, I mean me saying it is a dream.  Then it’s not even a dream it’s a…no.  Then there’s no end.  Then it couldn’t stop because, do you see, because it would keep going on.  I mean if this is.  If me right now.  If me what I’m saying.  If this is a dream and I’m still dreaming then I don’t need to wake up, I need to go back to sleep.  If this is a dream I’ll go back to sleep.  No. 

Today's Verse: 22 April 2017

One week later
OK he's dead, what now?
I've been thinking about
My religion
I've got a lot of good tenets
Only the best
And a Church of one
First : No love songs
Second: Whatever works
Or maybe the reverse
Third: Let's take it from there
Did you ever touch bottom?
Feel it?
Gravity embraces you
Warm, indisputable
Nothing transcendental
Nothing impermanent
Special
Just there
Over the hill

Fragment before Easter 2017

Sitting on the curb side, staring at my thoughts
Waiting for a pickup, a ride back to the loft
The evening light is fading, the cars keep passing by
Mister's not around yet, I start to wonder why
What if he doesn't turn up, what if I'm on my own
I'd hate a cop to stop me, and give me a hard time

Don't quite know where this one leads, but thought you might want to play with it. I've been working hard and traveling a lot, so a little disappointed at not doing more on this blog. Have some ideas that are very slow in fruition.
I plan to "transit" through San Francisco on the way to Halifax (!) around 10 July. Would be nice to see you, if you're around. Let me know and I will plan accordingly.

The Day the Brownshirts Came To Town

The day the brownshirts marched by on parade
The townspeople all hip-hip-hoorayed
We all felt a special kind of pride
Whatever they’re fighting, we know they’re on our side
We cheered more and more as they marched round and round
The day the brownshirts cane to town

All us boys tried to sneak out of school
We wanted rifles that would make us that cool
The girls were all saying those brownshirts looked cute
But we knew it was more than the buttons and the suit
That brought them running out of the playground
The day the brownshirts came to town

Grandma said, “It’s just about time
Someone did something about the dirt and crime.”
And then just like always, this set off my dad:
He said, “Those guys are trouble, they’re just as bad!”
And momma smiled to calm him down
The day the brownshirts came to town

We were a little confused, no one seemed to know
Whether this was part of some reality show
Then Uncle Louie sort of disappeared
But we always knew he was a little bit weird
We figured sooner or later he’d be found
The day the brownshirts came to town

Martial Law in Chicago

The clusterjam has begun
There was a black man with a gun
Now there’s martial law in Chicago
We heard that there’d been looting
So our boys started shooting
Martial law is in Chicago

We can’t have this in our own back yard
So we called in the National Guard
We hit back and hit back hard
With martial law in Chicago

It was those illegal aliens
Syrians or Iranians
Martial law in Chicago
It must’ve been agents from ISIS
Who instigated this crisis
Now there’s martial law in Chicago

There was some protest from the mayor
But the opposition didn’t dare
Block a national security affair
Martial law in Chicago

We don’t need a warrant for searches
Don’t try hiding out in churches
Martial law in Chcago
Rules about search and seizure
Are only for appeasers
Now there’s martial law in Chicago

Now much as we respect the press
We had to cut off all access
Until we can declare success
Martial law in Chicago
Martial law in Chicago

Why We Fight (again)

An updated version of a song from a few years ago


Does anyone remember the protests that were for the 98%?
They seemed so self-indulgent—what did they represent?
Things got a little better, so I guess we all forgot
What things are like when soneone else is caling all the shots

And this is why we fight, brothers
This is why we fight
Though sometimes we must stop and rest
This is why we fight

The man who killed an unarmed kid was let off by a jury
Another man was killed by cops in Ferguson, Missouri
Another still was choked and killed for selling cigarettes
And yet somehow the struggle stopped. We managed to forget.

And this is why we fight, brothers
This is why we fight
Though it’s hard to carry on
This is why we fight

Some will fall in glory, and others fall in shame
Still others give up because both sides seem the same
Some fear humiliation, some direct attack
But sometimes when we’re broken, new roots grow through the crack

And this is why we fight, brothers
This is why we fight
Though sometimes we must stop and rest
This is why we fight

Our rulers are no longer to be the brightest but the brashest
A TV personality playing the American fascist
And millions of us hit the streets, perhaps this time we’ve learned
Will this be the call to fight? Has something really turned?

And this is why we fight, sisters
This is why we fight
Now’s not the time to stop and rest
This is why we fight

Work in progress - verse 22 January 2017

...
I'm glad you were there
To take me home
When I fell on my face drunk
...

Overheard; New York Palace, 11 January 2017

2017 is a heavy year
Last time I saw you
But you got through
All xxx front ends
Feels I don't want to say autopilot
He gets up there and goes
There were people on people's shoulders
He's lost his mind
An opportunity to
I bought for 5 dollars
I try to stay away from semis
There was a Bna product
For whatever reasons
But it was locked up for 7 years
Then he got divorced
Really nasty divorce
It's all about the Tshirt
It was hot too
Oh my god
Oh yeah right
But that would be
And I destroyed that nighty
That was brutal
Have you been to a big festival lately
All my friends are like I can't go on a
Saturday night
Take a picture
Ballet?
A ton of it then
It was unbelievable
Neil Young can get away with it
How much bands are making
I get that part
But the way they do it
There's no more weird in the Mid-West
I got him to switch
Yeah that poor bastard
He's a super nice guy
Under lots of strength

Today's Verse, 8 January 2017

Seeing daylight disappear

Inspires me with funny fears

I fear that you'll be coming home

I won't be there

You'll be alone 

Watching daylight fade away

Makes me wonder should I stay

Makes me wonder what I'd do

If you were me

And I were you

This is the best thing ever

sitting outside with a glass of red wine on a lovely evening in Singapore at the Swiss Club. Just got back here from Mumbai, after a couple of intense weeks with Indi, Mira (and her boyfriend Rob), and Jai. I went back to my journals of 10 years ago when I was in Mumbai last week and found some draftlyrics that I wrote for a tune Johny wrote. In an idle moment, after the plat principal, I thouGht of looking it up on Spartan Bar. Not there, but what a fucking treasure is there from 2007 and 2008. Ten years, and we seem to have lost Firestone and Tracette. But I am inspired to continue, starting now. Here are two song lyric ideas, not sure where to go with them: "I sucked Jesus' big cock, but he hasn't come, yet", and "what's the secret in men's eyes, what's the secret in women's eyes".
Happy new year!