Ergonomic
Economic
Very frugal my legerdemain
It’s a magic
That is clicking
Constant warmup
…clock is ticking…
You
Won’t catch up
It’s
The brain
Gotta balance some elixir esoteric as the East
So you pop and so you stumble in the service of the Beast
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The result of a brief little jam session I was able to squeeze in last night.
I made it on the fly and just now wrote down the lyrics for those who prefer poems to songs.
DAW (i guess it’s a DAW) – Audacity (Effects – compression, equalization, reverb (or echo IDR) )
Instruments – Guitar, Violin, Vocals
Lyrics
All the puzzle pieces are such familiar places
I use them to make traces of my past
And that’s the path I walk on
In repetitious circles
I just go round and round and round
Sometimes I think that
That I have found
A line that is straight
But I’m still on the ground
I’m still going round
O Yea
Wait a little while with me
Wait a little while and see
The magic of a symmetry
Of 3 and 6 and 0 degree
Is the wine any less fine
Just because you’ve tasted it
Once more
Once more
So come on by and knock on
And knock on my old door
So come on by and let’s sit
Let’s sit on my floor
Let’s pourout all the whiskey
Pour it into dirty cups
Let’s pull out a bit of a bit of something
That we never ever ever grow weary of
All these starry thoughts
Of forever… and above…. and beyond…. and between….
In the light of the trees
And the evenings cool cool cool breeze
I am waiting waiting you are waiting waiting
Why are waiting
Why are we frustrating
When we could
Be turning round as the wheel
And to feel what is real
Is the motion of eternal
Again … again
I’m so terribly sober
Bone dry and miles from October
Baking in the southern air
Out here where the summers stare
One by one they are aligned
And their weapons are inclined
In morbid array
Pointing out the end of day
Day eh eh eh away o day
Where the waters no longer run
No prism is painted by the sun
I row – I row
I’m so terribly sober
Bone dry and miles from October
You sow
My sweet fictional tomorrow
You only beg and borrow
Time will show the circles full
As I row past
All Passing
Here there is no guessing
Where
I’m so terribly sober
Bone dry and miles from October
Well
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How is all of the magic
Of an embrace
Worn away by the Idleness
Of passing from place to place
With the day to day
All we can say
Is come what may
What for
What for
The sound of nails in the coffin
is
What for
What forPremetaurely entombed
In lily garlands
Of pallidAcceptance of
This here and
No moreI still recall sweetly
How the light caught the waterAnd how very neatly
The sun kissed her daughterIn the fading limelight
To mark a brief passing
Amid dreams, time, and our dancing bones
Skeletal frame
Made quick by live dust
Yet we don’t erect stonesWe no longer trust
In kisses
Or passion
Such fleecesAre quiet out of fashion
Ah but why
What for
What for
That’s the mystery most high
What
What for
The coffin’s not even nigh
No
It is here
We’re in it my dear
Before our time
Because the magic slipped out
We’d found a strong rhythm a stolid old rhyme
We kept to the beat
Cause that’s what strength is about
Yet we no longer greetThe morning with a great expectation
In our rehearsed caressThere is no elation
I no longer see homeWhen your foot slips from under your dress
What for
What for
I have seen a vast garland
Stretching from aeons
In shadow in light…gazing upon your delicate hand…
It gave my spirit fightA sense of place in time’s sand
Yet now all I hear
Is yes, o yes dearEach repetition is a hammer that cries ‘pon the nail
What for
What for
I’d try to see if there’s more for you or for me
But I’ve got a luncheon with Mr. O’ clock around FourWill we ever find the door:
…Again…The door
To no more
No more:
What for
What for…
No more
It turns you
Into city visions
Your eyes become
Kaleidoscopes
Of other peoples
Dreams
Daze-ed is the walk of those
Among the walls that talk
They cannot separate
The lead out from the chorus
Thus feeding on frustrate
That ether
They are static things
Electric buzzing
In the maelstrom
Of soft white lies
And forgotten histories
What use have we for arcane
Magic
Or for symmetry
Such things are daft and tragic
Leave us be
There is no need of learning
Save to secure
The turning of a gear
That will assure
Tomorrow
They don’t know why
And do not sorrow
That tomorrow
Is today
Transmission
The transmission
It’s a mission to deliver
Deaf, Blind, and Dumb
Transmission, Transmission
This banquet is just a crumb
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