Category: Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Categories
Hurricane, West Virginia Music & Songs Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Three Kings

 

Three kings lower their crowns
Lift them from their heads and set them on the ground
I know I let you down.

I remember you highBig Snake
Gold star in the sky
Please try to believe me– I never wanted to lie.

Back then I lived in a cloud, my mind in a daze
As I danced like an animal up on the stage
And at midnight he carried me back to his home
So I could chew on his body like a dog on a bone…

And now I must atone.

Three kings lower their crowns
Lift them from their heads and set them on the ground
I know I let you down.

I remember you proud and tall
Head high on the wall
Please try to believe me– I’m sorry that I didn’t call.

But the buttons on his phone were too sticky to touch
And the scabs on my wrist started hurting too much
Cause at night they would open me up with their tools
And then lick at my body till I started to drool…

I disappointed you.

Three kings lower their crowns
Lift them from their heads and set them on the ground
I know I let you down.

Please accept regret for the things I can’t change
For the awkward moments I cannot rearrange
I know I don’t deserve your grace.

Cause the chicken they fed me
I knew it wasn’t fresh
Still I buried my teeth into its withering flesh
And I saved up the bones to keep track of the days
Till he came into my cage and just swept them away.

Then he walked like a king up the stairs to the light
While I was tied by a rope to a permanent night
I know I should do something, something other than freeze
Cause the sock in my mouth tasted like a disease
And I tried to think something, tried to think something smart
But the walls would turn wavy and then crumble apart…

I know I broke your heart.

Three kings lower their crowns
Lift them from their heads and set them on the ground
I know I let you down.

Download MP3: 3 Kings

Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Hurricane, West Virginia Music & Songs Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Hunt for Me

 

Hmmm… I just realized that 72% of my recent songs have been about death, 31% about sadistic murders, and the remaining ones mostly about people being beat up, kidnapped, or chased. Time to seek professional help or is this just normal Scorpio behavior? Next week I will try writing happy songs, maybe.

 

Hunt for Me

Smile, smile, smile, smile
Sin, sin, sin
You were born the king of our town
I will bow, I will bend.

Two, two, two stars collide
Please stay warm upon your throne now
I will run I will hide.

Ladies in silk
Wanting to adore you
Laughing at your jokes
Kneeling on the floor for you
Look at your life, a page of fantasy.
So please, don’t hunt for me.

Dad knows best
Watch me kneel down and beg for forgiveness
Watch me stand up to the world and confess.

Gold and lace
Everything I have will be piled at your feet
Please don’t chase, please don’t chase.

Look at me crawl
Scratching at the dirt now
Look at me fall
Ripping up my shirt now
Rolling in mud, pig for all to see.
So please, don’t hunt for me.

Run so far you always follow me
Shadows so dark they always swallow me
I can make sure that no one ever loves me
I can make sure everyone’s above me

Run so far but tripping on the black lines
I can hear you say I’m running out of time
You knew it was all a big lie
Licking on your lips, because you love to watch things die.

Please no blade
No dogs die, please no rabbits,
Just humiliate, please humiliate.

Your smile is warm
Only sun, only summer
Please no storm, please no storm.

You can take some snips; I won’t try to mend me
I will tell the people never to defend me
I will tear myself apart for all to see.
So please, don’t hunt for me.

 

Download MP3: Hunt for Me

Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Hurricane, West Virginia Uncategorized Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Testify

 

A Night to Remember

I see you smiling in your gold frame, baby, but I always turn away my eye.
I see the chief out with his gold star shining, but he knows I’ll never testify.
I won’t testify.

People ask me all the time now how are you doing when they know I’m never gonna say.
They all heard me screaming on that black night, baby, but they only turned and walked away.
I won’t testify.

You can’t go waiting too long little baby or you know the fingerprints will rust.
You can’t go waiting too long little baby or the bones are gonna turn to dust
I won’t testify.

I walk outside of your apartment building, baby, and the gall starts to fill my throat.
I pray that God will burn it down to the ground, but as for me I’ll never rock the boat.
I won’t testify.

I keep my eyes down on the sidewalk, baby, because everybody makes me cry.
Every sweet smile is just another fucking person who will stand there as they watch me die.
I won’t testify.

I see their little fingers lifting up the blinds and their eyes peering eagerly.
I know they’ll stand there, they’ll never lift a hand when they see the man come for me.
I won’t testify.

Anybody who stands up to the man is gonna be the one to take the blame.
I lay your gun out on my living room mantle right next to your picture frame.
I won’t testify.

I walk at night out with a big stick, baby, but I know it won’t keep bad away.
You always said that when the man’s out to get you he can always find another way.
I won’t testify.

I asked the officer now how can I help you, when you know I can’t recall a thing.
I only saw a hand swing out of the darkness and the flash of a diamond ring.
I won’t testify.

I got some secrets that I wouldn’t mind sharing, but there ain’t nobody I can trust.
They talk so sweet with all their big eyes smiling, but it’s evil covered up in crust.
I won’t testify.

I try to tell myself to myself to go to California and to rearrange my style of hair.
It used to seem like such a big world, baby, till I found out that nobody cares.
I won’t testify.

I cry at night over them white bones, baby, but I always let them to turn to dust.
I lay your gun out on my bedside table, then I only sit and watch it rust.
I won’t testify.

 

Download Mp3: Testify

Categories
Earth, Pink, Mothers, Love Hurricane, West Virginia Music & Songs Uncategorized Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Sober


PompousThis song was inspired by my ongoing realization that the grumpier and more serious you appear, the better people treat you. The heavier and darker your clothes, the thicker your glasses, the more sour your expression, the more intelligent people think you are. And the more intelligent they think you are, the more likely they are to come to your aid in an emergency situation (even better if they think you’re rich.) We all know that when animals are in trouble, the amount of effort people put into saving them depends completely on their weight. The whole world joins forces to save a trapped whale, but when a fruit fly languishes in a glass of water, nobody sheds a tear. So in life, you gotta seem heavy. You got to try to be that whale.

 

Sober

Let me be the one who is sober,
Unconcerned, responsible and older.
Sneering at their childish plans,
Disgusted by their sticky hands,
Weighing down their dreams like a boulder.

For in this world never believe that
it’s safe to be terrified or go soft inside
for we’ll take it all
we will all watch you fall.

I used to think a smile would make them love me,
But it only lifted all of them above me.
The wiser man would wear a frown
That drags the other person down,
Cause when they’re down they see the glory of me.

For in this world never believe that
it’s safe to be terrified or go soft inside
for we’ll take it all
we will all watch you fall.

I used to float like a happy bubble in the air;
They smiled at me, they watched me pop without a care.
While the ones who frown are carved in stone,
The ones whose hearts are filled with bone,
They’re the ones we always repair.

For in this world never believe that
it’s safe to be terrified or go soft inside
for we’ll take it all
we will all watch you fall.

People say that happiness is a butterfly
Who abandons you, who flits away when it’s time to cry.
Drive the sluts out from your fold-
Bitterness contains the gold,
Bitterness contains the glue
That binds hearts to you.

 

 

Download MP3: Sober

Categories
Hurricane, West Virginia Music & Songs Red, Soldiers, & Fire Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Daystar

 

 

gold and green, hard and roundDaystar: humans, humanoids, space crafts and stars line up to see a flaming tree
favorite son, toast of town
bathe in wine, soak it up
slip inside golden cup

soaking up the golden sun
seeking smiles from everyone
life is laughter, life is fun
seeking praise from everyone

for your fire for your flame
golden face, golden smile, golden name
they will see just how happy you are
you are the sun, you are the way, you are the daystar

you’re no fool, you know the fluff
is the child of darker stuff
nameless men, blackened faces
shoveling in darker places

underground, never done
shine no light, see no sun
when they emerge on creaky knees
you will be the star they see

it’s your fire, it’s your flame
golden face, golden smile, golden name
they will see just how humble you are
you are the sun, you are the way, you are the daystar

in your stomach something churns
late at night, acid burns
clutch your stomach, clutch your wife
you deserve a happy life

fix your stomach, fix your self
mommy’s picture on your shelf
you are smart, you are good
you will burn the ancient wood

for your fire, for your flame
golden face, golden smile, golden name
they will see just how lucky you are
you are the one, you are the sun, you are the daystar

 

Download MP3: Daystar

 

Categories
Music & Songs New Hampshire Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Curtains

 

Girl with a bony arm holding a gray ball.Once upon a time, I consulted a  psychic, and she told me I should get a part-time job working in a coffee shop and do some light and feminine summer reading. Well, I knew I wasn’t going to get that job in a coffee shop, but I felt guilty about it- especially since I had just read an article that said married women without jobs are committing husband abuse- so I read a mountain of chick lit to make up for it.

This song was inspired by one of those books, I don’t remember it’s name. Probably “The Laces of Summer,” or something like that.

 

 

 

 

 

Download MP3: Curtains

Categories
Los Angeles Music & Songs Uncategorized Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Manfriend

 

Man with brown egg on egg-stand, living in a robin's egg blue world.
Nothing makes a man look more sensitive than standing next to an egg.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Download MP3: Manfriend

Categories
Los Angeles Music & Songs Uncategorized Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Young Girls Don’t Get Married

 

John Henderson with swordI got married (the first time) because God told my husband-to-be that I had to. This wasn’t the first time God had spoken to this man (let’s call him John). It started when God told John he had been appointed as my spiritual guide. Next, God told John I needed to give John my two favorite shirts. One for John to keep and one for John to give to a girl he liked (we’ll call her Sally). This hurt, because I really liked those two shirts, and I didn’t see why a man would want to wear purple velvet anyway.

After that, things started to snowball rapidly. I had to tell my friends I was in love with him (for complex spiritual reasons that I cannot remember). I had to go on a spiritual retreat with him. He drove me to Michigan which turned out to be where his parents lived and I was introduced to them as his girlfriend. I was horrified but didn’t know how to contradict him. Before he drove me home I was required to be engaged to him. Because God had needed me- as part of the spiritual retreat- to see him naked, and now that I had seen him naked his spirituality required him to marry me.

This was horrifying. I was a student and the very idea of seeing whiskers from up-close was still revolting to me. Plus, I had been hoping to marry Bono one day and live with him in his castle. But I didn’t know what to do. I tried to hide my ring finger because I felt so ashamed. But people would see the ring and congratulate me. I couldn’t tell anyone how I felt. So many people were fiercely loyal to him and no one cared about me in more than a “hey, let’s go to a party together” way.

And then, once we were engaged, John told me he had to give Sally a naked massage for existential reasons.

 

Download MP3: Young Girls Don’t Get Married

Categories
Brooklyn Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Masterwood (a poem)

 

Hector Persephone on purple background.

This is a poem and normally I don’t care that much for poems. Nonetheless, I have heard that gardens grow most vigorously when they are 3% weeds, and since I now have about one hundred songs in here, I thought I should sprinkle in a couple of poems to keep things healthy.

The reason I generally don’t care for poetry is because poems tend to be flavorless, hard to chew, and lacking in digestible matter. Like grass. Maybe the good ones are like vegetables and aromatic herbs. But rarely like candy.

Once I tried giving up candy for a few months and only eating vegetables, fruits, nuts, and other “natural” foods. I was inspired (or probably hypnotized) by a book called “Detox” that claimed if you ate this way your body would become so pure that your skin would be transparent. This seemed like an irresistible possibility, especially since I was due to get married soon and worried about looking my best for my big day.

The main problem with this diet was that it required me to eat literally all day long just to survive. Every moment I wasn’t eating was spent driving around buying strange foods like liquid chlorophyll which Detox required me to drink nightly mixed with olive oil and apple juice. I had to stop painting because there was no time to do anything but eat, and no money either (natural foods are expensive.)  My healthy diet was consuming all my time and money, and even some of my friendships too, which had once revolved around going out for pizza and ice cream.

Maybe it would have been worth it if my skin had become transparent, but it remained as opaque as ever. In fact, no matter how many cauliflowers I ate I seemed to look exactly the same.

What is the moral of the story? That if you eat too many vegetables it may detract from fulfilling your life’s purpose. That’s why I like songs- they are like cookies, easy to digest and full of fun and accessible calories. They give you the nutrition you need without detracting from your modern, 0n-the-go lifestyle.

 

Download MP3: Masterwood

Categories
Los Angeles Music & Songs Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

 

Christopher Dumont with "mustard" on shoulder… if James wasn’t encouraging me to include ALL my songs on this blog I would probably leave this one out because it makes me feel embarrassed! I’m not sure what my brain was thinking when I wrote this, or if it was thinking at all, but I do remember exactly what I was feeling… I was surrounded by a mustard colored light and that light became this song.

I have always felt a little uncomfortable around mustard yellow. Until recently I couldn’t even eat mustard out of an irrational fear that I might end up with a yellow stain on my clothes. I’ve never really taken the time to think about this color or what it means to me, although I always notice when it shows up. It seems to be favored by people who work in the theater and lovers of purple velvet. (It’s also a popular choice for colonial homes around Portsmouth.)

At any rate, this ochre light surrounding me was a blend of several forces, such as:

1. The gold of spirituality and idealism darkened by fear, leading to an apocalyptic outlook.

2. The nutritive butter yellow of Kentucky darkened with nauseating ideas from childhood about the role of females in this world. Such as them being less intelligent than men and doomed to make their way through life on “sexual wiles” alone, an idea which repulsed me- especially when I was still young enough to think boys had cooties. Of course my conscious mind had rejected these ideas, but- like mustard wiped from a white shirt- the stain remained.

I like to think that, for the most part, these mental influences have now been released from my mind, and that is why I can eat mustard without (great) fear. It tastes good.

Download MP3: Knocking on Heaven’s Door