The Motor City Madman [Chris Moos/Eva Mauchly]
I wanna hook up like we used to, I wanna hang at Club Lagoon
I wanna dance to DJ music all night long, beneath the light of the mezzo-lune
But my baby left me 'cause she understands me
I can't abide these different-colored germs; she's been poisoned by the mainstream
We the people, people like me
Duty-bound to turn it round the way it ought to be
The American people need people like me
Unafraid to demonstrate what freedom means
I'll be a hate criminal if they ever catch me, so say the ivory-tower talking heads
You hear about death panels up in Canada, sanctuary cities in the West
But the Motor City Madman, with his weapon in hand
Girl, you ought to hear him sing; he's an inspiration
We the people, people like me, duty-bound to stand our ground and writing history
The American people need people like me
The strong lead the weak the way it's got to be
Look at em all, they stare right through you
They bring their dreck into our nest / Babbling in their hieroglyphics
Ooh ooh ooh ooh / Ooh ooh ooh ooh
The Motor City Madman, with his weapon in hand
Girl, you ought to hear him sing; he's an inspiration
We the people, people like me, duty-bound to turn it round the way it ought to be
The American people need people like me
Unafraid to demonstrate what freedom means
Sari of Accari [Chris Moos]
The request for friendship came one morning out of nowhere
I'm looking into infinite ice-blue orbs 5,000 miles from here
Eyes may deceive, but curiosity works magic on me, yeah it's flattering
Sari tells me she's been all around as a missionary nanny
She's from Jo'burg, by way of Ghana, she's seen weather that nobody's ever
Sari, are you real?
Do you like lamb, do you like jam-bands, do you like men?
Now that we're pen-friends
Sari of Accari, if that's your picture I love you, yeah I do
Next day I drop her a line, a simple 'hey, how are you, nice to know you'
I resolve not to be a pest, but meanwhile I get restless
Day three, 'Sari talk to me, I need some more about the missionary nanny business'
A week later I've got nothing but time and she's become an obsession
Maybe I said something offensive, so I'm irreverent, I just wanna know
Sari, are you real?
Are you a man behind a desk in a tower of glass
I've got nothing to steal
Sari of Accari, you can pray after we make love together
One Gray [Chris Moos/Howie Laskin/Paul Smith]
One gray is light gray; brings with it a mist
Visibility near zero between here and it
Another gray, a lighter gray; still can’t distinguish shapes
But drawing me in is the swirling quality it somehow takes
Now breaks a morning of warm yellow and gentle blue
Arriving on expressions that I never knew
On my lips they grate, they gyrate, from others’ they flow like a flute
The day grows glaring, emitting harsh hues and cues
Some have known this music since our race first walked
They failed to note just when, with any sort of mark
No one could picture what time would become
Or a need to see into a past so dark
I never keep secrets, don't understand the phenomenon
Don't know why I can't trust just anyone, everyone, anywhere
I don't reflect on what happens, I move on
Collecting mementos of ancient warfare
So I walk like a Humboldt penguin in the shape of an 'A'
I was a teenage professor of the arcane
I get good and evil, but I don't get people
I need a woman 'least as much as you
But you don't look like a whooping crane and you don't stim
Everything I say is TMI
I hear their comments and I notice the stares
I could chant the nursery rhymes about breaking bones with sticks and stones
I could tell you I don't care if I knew what care is
1510 Lyon Street [Chris Moos/Paula Eagle]
What's happening with this listing, what are we doing wrong?
I expect some success from everyone in this room
You honor the process, you reap the rewards
And I'm tired of the sullen looks of doom
Well sir, everyone's tried with the same result
There's Remax, and Keller, and Coldwell Banker
Everybody fails at
1510 Lyon Street, the blot on the picture of a picture-perfect town
At 1510 Lyon Street, the dead return to life at night
They're bringing our business down
Next question: how we gonna keep it out of the news
I assume we're all conversant with our media gurus
We sponsor everything they do
They better not be peddling this nonsense
Well sir, none of us care what tenants say
But with the legends, and fables, of this location
Nobody sleeps at
1510 Lyon Street, the stain on the image of a venerable town
At 1510 Lyon Street, the dead return to life at night
They're bringing our business down
And if you'd been at the clean-up, you wouldn't need to bone up
Nobody sleeps at
1510 Lyon Street, for an office like ours, it's a money pit
At 1510 Lyon Street, the fables make you wanna quit
At 1510 Lyon Street, the blot on the picture of a picture-perfect town
At 1510 Lyon Street, the dead return to life at night
They're bringing our business down
Bad Day at Black Rock [Chris Moos]
Everything is pending with you
You're waiting for the angel of approval's approval
She'll tap you on the forehead and you'll know you were cool
Believable mien is your status
You're fit enough to lead, a little bit
Only person life's ever known
Whose friends are lying somewhere by the side of the road
Who doesn't know if summer's coming or it might snow
But everybody knows that they love you
You're poorly understood, though remarkable
They changed your birthday from a Leo to a Virgo and that lowered the bar
But that doesn't help anybody put in your charge
You who know oh, so much trivia
Just this once, won't you try to understand that life is only what you say it is
If it's just a game and you're the only player; we got a long way to go
I think we better get rolling, on our way to the Rose Tatoo
Just this once, won't you try to understand that life is only what you say it is
If it's just a play and we're the theater buffs; we got a long way to go
I think we better get rolling on our way to the Coral Sea
Found yourself a place to reside; it's halfway between bliss and catatonic
At least it's got a frog pond and a driveway beside
They washed their cars in Bad Day at Black Rock
When things were going bad, now didn't you say?
You wake up hungry every once in a while and dip your feet in the news
But otherwise you're happy right-brained, living upstairs
Talking about when we cared
Just this once, won't you try to understand that life is only what you say it is
If it's just a game and you're the only player; we got a long way to go
I think we better get rolling, on our way to The Gentle Night
Where will Marty end up New Years?
Nine Million A.D. [Chris Moos/Renee Madden]
There's a comfort quotient in love's every consultation, if you heed
You can't make it happen, it just is
You and I, we hit that zone, addressing every heavenly body
Pronouncing every molecule ever breathed
And I figure at this rate
In the year 9 million, 8 hundred seventy-six thousand
Five hundred forty three
Life will be quite ordinary
In 9 million 8-7-6 5-forty-three A.D.
There'll be dreary days, and times will be dismal, when they celebrate
At the international dateline, as is customary
The big display congratulates them
Happy New Year, you made it through another without self-destructing
The ball drops, my ardor wanes, affection floats away
9 million, 8 hundred seventy-six thousand
Five hundred forty three
Life will be very ordinary
In 9 million 8-7-6 5-forty-three A.D.
You and I so compatible it makes other lovers seem contemptible
We crossed a line, making time
Drifting ever-closer
If you're looking for dull, cold, and empty, you'll have to wait
If there's still air in 9 million A.D. and change
I'll be running out of care for you
Nine million A.D. We're gonna be OK 'til then
Nine million A.D. Probably closer to an even ten
Nine million A.D. Life runs basic, through generic
Nine million A.D. Basically not the way I prefer it
Robert and Clara [Chris Moos]
You're lucky to be living in a time of the world's existence
When we can cure just about anything
But we're advised from circumcision not to worry, that it's all small stuff
In an extended era since anybody knew who to trust
So unless your concern is protecting what you have, you're resistant
'Cause it's rare that you're in a position of security
You have to pity poor Robert Schumann; he found Clara to worship him
But he couldn't live in a world like this
She worshipped, they played
But I can't listen to his music, such beauty is harsh
'Long about now you ask yourself a question:
How do you want to feel, given the reins of opportunity
No one right way, either; nobody tells you how you've got to be
How do you wanna feel? Don't worry, it'll be all right
Clara never lost the feel You and I and the children, together
Tell me you still want to feel We'll be waiting forever
Feelings come and feelings go
People pay to avoid the slow ones
Well, like it or not there are choices to make
Some see it another way
But by this time we're wearing many hats to the same soiree
What you'll probably do is wonder:
How do you want to feel, given the range of possibility
No one right way, either; nobody tells you how you've got to see it
How do you wanna feel? Don't worry, I'll always be here
Clara never lost the feel I love every soul inside you
Tell me you still want to feel I'll show the world
Write to My Wife [Chris Moos]
If and when
My shape is best described as level
And no one can reach me on 0594
I’m gonna be late, and more spectral than ever
I hope I can write to my wife and tell her all is well
Enclosed in fond wishes, and absent of lament
And when you three tell stories, especially at night, with others
I hope they’re the ones that make everybody laugh
And no one will worry, ever again
I’m gonna tell my Dad I liked when he was happy
Then I’ll turn to a stranger and exclaim
Wasn’t that surprisingly, refreshingly engaging
Weren’t dreaming and waking essentially the same
I hope I can write to my wife and tell her thank you, all is well
Enclosed in fond wishes, and absent of lament
And of my few regrets, one that I’ll mention
I didn’t rave about my progeny, lest I stir up envy
And when you four tell stories, especially at night, to others
Begin with father's heroic deeds
If not then, I'll be content to hear you share a chuckle on me
Cobra Tat, the Birthday Song [Chris Moos/Howie Laskin/Renee Madden]
Yo, we're all singing Happy Birthday [x3]
To you
You’re gonna love my cobra tatoo
And where I’m pierced makes me a dangerous dude
I got one of Elvis too
You’re gonna love my cobra tatoo
And where I’m pierced makes me a dangerous dude
I got one of Elvis too
Yo, we love your crew for action
And we can't wait to see what happens
And we're all singing Happy Birthday to you
Mama will say it's misbehavin
Papa will say I'm a cr-cr-craven
I'll say I love you if you want me to
I want you . . .
Slouch [Chris Moos/Renee Madden]
When the day comes you find yourself gettin’ weary of me . . . and my desire
I’ll know what to say, darling go now . . . you are free
But I don’t know what I’ll do
After I slouch home crying, spend the rest of the century in my room
With my head in the sand
With my Johnny Winter and my Johnny Walker
Tuned up higher than most could well withstand
Such is my need for you I wake up feeling I been subject to some kind of hypnotizin'
A spell I got from you . . . I know what I want to say dear, I love you
But I don’t know where I'll be
After I slouch home crying; I will've said I love you one more time
And try to wrap my head around the eventuality that
You might mean, arbitrarily
Away from and free of me
Nobody's holding you hostage
You gotta bag the royal cargo to proceed
When the day comes you find yourself in love with somebody else
You'll do what you have to do
And darling I'll still love you, but you'll know you're free . . . to go
Something to Forgive [Chris Moos/Howie Laskin]
It hurts so much it seems unreal, but it's real
And now that it's over, you find it ain't over
It's just the beginning, if you will
And you hate that old cliché about a better place
But lately you've been thinking that it
Just might be the best one since they told you that you've got to be strong
And for a long, long time
There'll be something to forgive
You'll leave the light on and the stars out at night
With something still left to forgive
The lamp's still on at dawn and it burns bright
The stars will return tonight
Croyez-moi, croyez-moi, la vie s'ameliore
And you've learned a cruel lesson, he promised to return
You promised to believe, you left his setting at the table
Now it's time for you to turn the page
Oh, but it comes in stages
There'll be something to forgive
You'll leave the light on and the stars out at night
With something still left to forgive
The lamp's still on at dawn and it burns bright
The stars will return tonight
And we all need forgiveness too; someday someone needs to trust in you
You're a '43 Copper Penny [Chris Moos/Paula Eagle]
If I ever find two four-leaf clovers, I'll give one to you
And if you ever find four four-leaf clovers, I know you're gonna give me two
And if we find three, I'll tell you what we're gonna do
We're gonna keep on looking, 'cause I already found one, that's you
I've got plenty of love for you to last a couple of lifetimes
And every time the grass gets green, that’s one time out of ninety-nine
If ever I find a '43 copper penny, shining in the street
We’ll leave it right on the table with the puzzle and the Legos, and my wicked set of keys
So all the people can see we’re just as rich as we need to be
And I struck gold when you happened upon me, on me
I've got more than enough to spread around, a house full of kids and a pretty baby reindeer
When the summer starts to swelter, we'll take 'em all down to Chile for a souvenir
If ever I find two four-leaf clovers . . . If we ever find a '43 copper penny . . .
And even as the hair on my arms turns gray, we'll love each other 'bout as plain as day
When the leaves begin to fall again, we'll pack away the Cutter and the big brass fan
If ever I find two four-leaf clovers, I’ll give one to you
And if I ever find a Honus Wagner cigarette trading card
Where you gonna wanna move to?
If we get lucky, I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do
We’re gonna keep on living, cause I already found you, that's who
I've got more than enough to last two lifetimes
You're a bouquet of four-leaf clovers . . . You're a '43 copper penny . . .
A Good Church Lady is Hard to Fight [Chris Moos/Renee Madden]
Good old Uncle Bartholomew, on my mother's side
Spent his whole working life in the pickle barrel factory
He never made supervisor, he was an expert just the same
Any question you had about this type vessel, Barty was the man to see
If he's alive he's a hundred and five, so it's safe to tell the story
All this happened in the Jazz Age, before the war
Barty didn't ask for much from life
Just a warm place to poop and a turkey minestrone
The Sunday puzzle kept him busy all week-til-it-was-time to tune in old Marconi
In the tidiest lair in Snarkle Missouri, population twelve hundred and three, and growing
They didn't give him much education and he never got away out of town
But he had the view from here to next Tuesdee, how the foreigners were wearing us down
Uncle Bart married Aunt Evangeline, of the Mira-Clean Angelisians
There was a dowry that they didn't oughten spend in too much of a hurry
She kept all the birds and chipmunks healthy in her yard bonnet
A few pictures of the bonnet and the yard survive, but they're black and white and all blurry
If she's alive she's a hundred and five, so it's safe to tell the story
All this happened in the Jazz Age, before the war
Auntie Ev converted all the neighbors to the One True Church next door
For a church lady, Evvie sure was pretty to see
She had a lot of rules you had to follow, out of the Good Book in the drawer
When the fellows convened at Scruffy's taproom, the consensus was it was a dot silly
But they tolerated Evangeline despite
Cause a good church lady is hard to fight
If she's alive she's a hundred and five, so it's OK to tell the story
All this happened in the Jazz Age, before the war