1. |
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Hail to the commander, hail to the commander…
Alll hail! All hail!
Aw, hell…aw hell.
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2. |
War Baby
04:43
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When I was born, you were cramming for that final test
You had to be at the base, you were working your way through school -
The military training, the war - I was born in your wartime, your war baby.
Who knew I would grow to have the heart of a dissident? Your war planes
Would fight for what? For my right to disagree,
My right to not fight?
(peace, peace, peace)
You call me a commie
I am so much more American
than you will ever know.
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3. |
Workin' for the Devil
04:26
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I’m workin' for the devil 'cause he's the one who's payin'
Workin' for the devil 'cause he's the one who's layin' down the
Money that I need to get myself outta this nasty situation
I’m workin’ for the devil 'cause he's the one who's payin'
Workin’ for the devil 'cause he's the one who's payin' for your
Treats and all your feathers, and that little mouse you like to bat around.
Because a' him, you won't have to be shipped off to the pound
And I won't have to make your pelt into a bootstrap to get me off the ground
I’m workin' for the devil 'cause he's the one who's slayin' all the
Fees that I accrued that night my life was nearly ended at the
Hospital that night, and for seven thousand dollars, Missus Doctor
Fixed me up, though the stitchin' rather rude
And you'll never know that I’m
Workin' for the devil
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4. |
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Tomorrow I’m goin' to the beach to play in the ocean, in the waves
Tonight I’m sittin' in the pink starlight, ooh
lots of nah-nahs (I’m goin’!)
more nah-nahs (beach! beach! beachbeachbeach)
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5. |
The Great Equalizer
04:03
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Oooh-wah
My gun is the great equalizer, it lives under the bed
Don't you forget
My gun is the great equalizer
It's easy to pull the trigger
If you've ever tried to stab someone, you know how hard it is
My gun is the great equalizer, it lives under the bed
Don't you forget
And i can sleep with the intensity of
Tiny tap dancers skittering across my eyelids
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6. |
Seasons
05:32
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I wish that there were seasons in Los Angeles
Drinking so much water is a pain
My red and stinging eyes no doubt idealize
A vision of snow and hail and ice.
Everyone who moves here seems insane
People who were born here don’t remain
It’s not that I’m complaining; it’s not the sun I hate
I think it’s just that every day’s the same.
Every year, you get the gift of transformation: ice to water, sun to shadow,
growth to death, to grow again - a living see-saw, changing patterns,
something to measure against.
I wish that there were seasons in Los Angeles
A madness lurks in constant paradise
My red and stinging eyes no doubt idealize
The moisture that would come with snow and ice.
So here’s to you and yours in Massachusetts
I laud you for continuing to live
In a place where shoveling snow has got to be the lamest,
Not to mention frozen pipes, frostbite, chapped lips.
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7. |
All I Can Do
03:37
|
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|
All I can do is read “Game of Thrones”
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8. |
Dispossession
05:21
|
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AAAAAHHHHHH
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9. |
Walking Alone
06:01
|
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|
There’s a man in an alley slumped over his knees
Do you stop? Do you see him, before you slide onto the freeway?
He fades to grey in the mirror before he fades from the memory
Of all who pass by; they don’t know if tonight will be his last night
Walking alone, nowhere to go, no family of his own
Maybe those bridges burned long ago
You’ll never know, those scars never show
Yah he’s fuckin’ crazy, or he’s on drugs…but really, so what, what’s your point?
That he’s not as human as you or I? He’s just a guy, walking on the freeway alone…
There’s a man - no there’s twenty, when there were three
There’s a man - no there’s fifty; there’s an entire city
We gotta do something, but there’s nothing to do
It’s a terrible ending, for me and you
We gotta do something, but there’s nothing to do
It’s a terrible fate and hurt, endless too
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10. |
Je t'adore, Fyodor
04:14
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Bend your head down low; wave your little foot so cheerful.
You belong to me, mirror bell and whistle.
Is it love I see, in the fragment of an eye beady,
Framed by a fine sunset, cheek of orange and crest of gold
White around the tail unfolds; you belong to me.
Not like everything, the bird beneath my wing.
Every now and then i think of how you came to me.
In a tree in Glendale, you were screaming and hungry.
Who taught you the art of song, a thousand whistles all day long?
An old man or a girl, hermit or family of ten? Only age or youth could
Leave ajar the door to me. Distraught they must have been to lose
The bird beneath their wing.
I prefer to think an origin of circus ring:
Tiny lion, flaming bat, cockroach dancing on a hat.
Onto you their gifts bestowed,
Cirque des puces, des grillons, des crapauds.
L'arraignée funambule, tes abilités si grandes,
Imposées d'un magicien, que tu as échappé.
Petit oiseau malin, venu chez moi enfin.
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11. |
Drivin' Around
01:46
|
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|
Drivin’ around, drinking beer in my car
Been doing it since two or three
Drivin’ around, not really thinking too hard
Appreciating that it’s only me.
The big empty streets, the modest little houses
That coulda been anyone’s dream-
I’m drivin’ around, drinking beer in my car
Wondering what the hell happened to this city?
I left really soon, right as the music started playing
I can’t figure what came over me.
If I started playing, I might not leave at all-
I’d be there till after three.
I’m kinda sleep deprived, kept thinking of my bed
Even though I was surrounded by my oldest friends
Oh oh, I’m drivin’ around, drinking beer in my car
Talking to that person that I swore I’d never be.
|
||||
Marshweed Los Angeles, California
Marshweed is Heather Lockie, and various friends.
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