 Notes for a Novel (2012)UNIMPRESSED (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) (CHORUS) I've been making notes for a novel I'm gonna call that novel Unimpressed Cause that's what I am It's about a punk with junk in his yard Complains all about how his life's so hard But he's got a bathtub full of meth and a dream He had a pit bull named Time Bomb Who chewed off the mailman's face Said it was all the mailman's fault that he shoulda just run in place instead of running away on that sad, sad day When a boy lost his dog, oh no ... I'm unimpressed (CHORUS) It's about a Guv with no love lost For the aliens who won't be bossed So he's bleaching my bath water for whiter whites The bad guy is a woman Who's papers aren't in order So he takes her native born son Sends the woman back across the border And America's safer One less brown-skinned raper God Bless our family values, oh no ... I'm unimpressed (CHORUS) It's about a jock who mocks the rules anabolic 'roids are his favorite fuel And he's just learned how to spell his own name He's never cracked a book but he's been booked on crack You might say he's a little dense But he knows why I pay him the big bucks "Cause da ball goes over da fence!" Now he's living in shame asterisk by his name in the holy baseball record books, oh no ... I'm unimpressed (RECITATION BRIDGE) In the end I send everyone to jail but the woman is only one who makes bail Cause her native-born son wins the World Series And the xenophobic Guv with no love lost turns out to be a Sicilian Boss Who gets punked in prison by the punk who gets chopped up into little chunks By a pit-bull that's owned by the jock -- And if you haven't guessed I'm unimpressed But I'm not a heartless cynic, oh no ... I'm unimpressed (CHORUS) DON'T YOU WANNA GO TO MARS? (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) Durell has a dream just like Martin Luther King It's a dream that he has passed on to his son It's a dream to be an astronaut, but not just any astronaut We're talking first man on the 4th rock from the sun Calculator in the crib starts young Taury's trip Knew his times tables by the age of 3 At 5 it he knew his long division, Calculus by the age of 7, Now he's 9 and doing Trigonometry (CHORUS) Don't you want to go to Mars? Don't you want to go to Mars? Now what we've come this far Don't you want to go to Mars? Aliyah's in Iraq don't know when she's coming back Yeah, Momma's been gone 14 months or more Sends pictures through the Internet, landscape red and desolate like an Evil Eden for the God of War (CHORUS) (BRIDGE) There's a slave ship in 1688 Sailing cross the stormy Middle Passage There's a space ship in 2028 Like a silver bottle carrying a message Durell calls Taury "Rain Man" it's a joke but they're in pain, man Lately Taury's apathetic, sad and bored Last they heard Aliyah, had been stop-lossed to Haditha If they could only follow that ol' Drinking Gourd (CHORUS) ANGEL WITHIN (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) My boys recognized her, said that girl gets around Mama watch out - she's the talk of the town I shooed them away and invited her in From the cut of her clothes, she was well-versed in sin Her body was buxom but her face it was worn I could tell right away she'd been workin' the porn Lord knows how she found me, this rough little flower I teach 'em to sing and I charge by the hour Many a young girl wants to carry that torch But they first have to make it past my front porch Some come through the website, some by word of mouth But I'm awful particular ‘bout who enters my house (CHORUS) Cause I'm a good Christian woman, or I'm trying to be Got two boys that I raised since my husband left me But I don't think it's fair to judge someone's skin Cause in each one of us there's an angel within, an angel within I don't think you should stay here, I started to say she lowered her head: Please don't send me away I quit the skin-trade and I'm now 6 weeks clean I'm through with that life, I just wanna sing I thought I should act before kindness fails So I pulled down the shade and started some scales ... (BRIDGE) Make a joyful noise unto the ... Lord help those that help themselves Her voice was unsteady, she didn't have that much range But after several weeks, I noticed a change She developed vibrato and a tone all her own A smoky contralto as tough as a stone I taught her to coo and I taught her to belt I taught her to sing every feeling she felt (CHORUS) The boys are asleep and it's my quiet time I'm watching a show about the late Patsy Cline Patsy did some hard living, embarrassing things Before she got the chance to teach the world how to sing It's like we peel back the layers, scrape off the dirt Until sorrow takes wing like a beautiful bird I ain't seen her in weeks, guess the road took a fork Some go to Las Vegas and others New York Where did she go? I didn't know where to search I regret that I never took her down to my church She just might go far if she stays off the meth I whisper a prayer with my last waking breath Cause I'm a good Christian woman, or I'm trying to be Got two boys sound asleep and I'm lost in a dream I expect soon enough I will see her again When the world recognizes the angel within, angel within, Angel within, Angel with ... In all labor there is profit. OUGHTA BE A HIGHWAY (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI and Darryl Purpose/Gambler's Grace Music-SESAC) I'm riding across this wasteland 6 days west of a town called Cheyenne Got a map and a compass, horse and a gun gonna find me some gold in the California sun Now this old horse, she's made good time now we have these mountains to climb Got everything I own in these saddle bags They're weighing her down and she's starting to drag There oughta be a highway through these hills some prairie schooners with 18 wheels And a million horsepower for to carry your load there oughta be a highway, there oughta be a road I'm hungry and tired and thirsty as well Needing a warm bath, feeling like hell I ain't seen a woman since I don't know when I been talking to myself, like a crazy man And there oughta be a highway - hope they build one soon And every few miles, a big saloon A hot meal and a woman for to hold your hand Yes there oughta be a highway runnin through this land And there oughta be a highway six lanes wide With some green and white roadsigns along the side To measure the miles, for to be your guide Yes there oughta be a highway across this Great Divide I'm thinking back to when I hit St Lou' I'd come a long way, thought I was through Those friendly people they welcomed me in But they said don't stop now, go west young man And there oughta be a highway runnin' o'er this land With a way to get on, and get off again Welcoming Arches, fossil fuel on demand Yes there oughta be a highway runnin o'er this land ANATOMY 101 (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) The heart is the only part of a body that never, ever gets cancer It's a medical mystery, a complete curiosity that's inspired many a stanza Ask the heart if it ever wants to quit this endeavor "Never" is always the answer That's why the heart is the only part of a body that never, ever gets cancer The eyes are the only part of a body in which you can see your reflection Like a pond or a mirror, you can see yourself there When you look at someone with affection Ask them to lie, the eyes will say: Why? Naked truth tends to trump all deception That's why the eyes are the only part of a body in which you can see your reflection (BRIDGE) Some say there's a reason for every disease and a grand intelligent design I don't know if that's true, I just know I love you And I know what's inside of mine The soul is the only part of a body you cannot hold in your hand It's a wisp of a thing, but it's everything Like a passport to some future land Ask the soul where inside, it likes to reside It will say: You just don't understand That's why the soul is the only part of a body you cannot hold in your hand KISSINGER (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) There's skeletons in the closet, Lord, they've tried but they can't lock it Millions upon millions of bleached bones Ribcages of babies, femurs of old ladies You can still hear the carnage and the moans It all happened for a reason, it's the worst kind of treason The time has come for someone to atone To face my music, one man must stand alone And what of Henry? What of Henry Kissinger? And what of Henry? What of Henry Kissinger? To begin with, we must find a place, how ‘bout the Fall of '68? He sabotaged the Talks to end The War "If Tricky Dick's elected, take my word you'll be protected" So the Viet Cong, they walk right out the door But after the election, Nixon offers no concessions The plan for peace is shoved into a drawer And one more year of war turned into four And what of Henry? What of "Envoy" Kissinger? And what of Henry? What of Henry Kissinger? Old "Hank" was on a roll, once you've got a high death toll You don't mind that stench like putrefied ammonia In the name of "Peace with Honor," Henry scrambled all his bombers Brought that smell to millions in Cambodia I know these rhymes ain't tight, though you know I've really tried So how ‘bout we just end this verse with "Josef Mengele"? He was a "Doctor" too ... Josef Mengele And what of Henry? What of "Doctor" Kissinger? Do no harm, Henry. What of Henry Kissinger? Was convenient, if not ominous, Hank was out to get the communists Next stop: Chile, South America In the Tropic of Capricorn, it was "Assassination Porn" His own version of "CIA Erotica" You may think I'm bein ‘ silly, but Hank actually described Chile As a "Dagger pointed at the heart of Antarctica" Which might explain the Ozone Hole -- if you're psychotica And what of Henry? What of "Agent" Kissinger? And what of Henry? What of Henry Kissinger? In his entrepreneurial way, Hank invented Pinochet Don't the name sound like a red and robust wine? But the only red that flows is the blood of desaparecidos From the Death Squads formed by Kissinger's design The mass graves exploded forth, as the franchise headed north All the way past Chiapas Borderline Like a strangulating, evil, twisted vine And what of Henry? What of "Senor" Kissinger? Que paso, Henry? What of Henry Kissinger? Everyone was quite surprised when Hank won the Nobel Prize Guess that Oslo never heard of Bangladesh Or the genocidal virus, Henry unleashed upon Cyprus No one noticed what with Nixon in the press With the blessing of this jerk, Cyprus soon fell to the Turks With the usual rape and torture, murder-mess Just once I'd like to hear the man confess And what of Henry? "Nobel Laureate" Kissinger? And what of Henry? What of Henry Kissinger? Bechtel, Halliburton, one thing that is for certain, They've all got a friend in this senile maniac Circling like a vulture, feed the exploitation culture Meanwhile, every town has a kid coming home in a sack Justification for this war's all wrong, turns out that Hank was there all along Don't you know "Power is the ultimate Aphrodisiac?" And who needs Viagra when you've got Iraq? And what of Henry? "Elder Statesman" Kissinger? And what of Henry? What of Henry Kissinger? Looks like we're outta time, there's just far too many crimes The worst part is: he remained so influential His excuses are too vague, someone notify The Hague What I'd give to see this putz act penitential Instead of puffing out his chest, assuring us that he knows best hiding behind words like "confidential" Reaching for the crutch of his credentials And what of Henry? And what of Henry? And what of Henry? What of Citizen Kissinger? Kissinger ... HAROLD EXAMINER (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) Afternoon paper on my doorstep Elysian Fields of Camarillo across the street This was back when Camarillo was a dumping ground for crazies State Hospital, Charlie Parker's grim defeat The Rolling Stones had just been busted Tet New Year Indochina - living hell Summer of love mortally wounded at a motel out in Memphis Finished off at the Ambassador Hotel Let's pretend our arms are threshers This alfalfa soft as a prisoner's prayer Lay back in the paddock, green stalks clenched between our teeth Kenny said he'd race me from here to there All at once, we came upon a clearing With a bunch of potted plants all in a row And other plants much taller, growing straight out of the ground Kenny turned to me and said: Hey --whaddya know? (CHORUS) And the ghost of Charlie Parker looking down Blesses all the children of the town God's beard is a cloud, I whispered to myself every Saturday night watching Adam-12, one Adam-12 It was just about that time that a paperboy named Harold rode up upon his bike We were scared cause Harold was a lot bigger than us But it turned out Kenny knew Harold's younger brother Mike Harold casually got down off his bike Lit a menthol cigarette which we declined Hills Brothers Coffee can full of water inside his paper pouch Harold looked like he had something on his mind He said this thing was a secret garden For some kind of a high school special science fair I have to go up north this weekend to San Francisco, he said Would you mind watering the plants while I'm up there? Well, what kind of plants? we said They don't seem to us much more than little weeds Harold laughed and said, You got it and he paid us fifty cents But don't mention it to anyone – there's no need (CHORUS) Harold split and we took one of the little potted plants To a scoutmaster neighbor named Larry Hoops Larry jumped on the phone and said "I appear to have a plant that resembles marijuana" and Kenny and I looked at each other and said, "Oops" Every cop in Camarillo converged upon our street We were held up as 4th Grade Royalty And the look on Harold's face as they led him off in cuffs Was like he wished he'd paid us more for loyalty Kenny took his quarter and invested In an early death from AIDS and prescription pills Sometimes late at night I drive up the 101 and cruise old neighborhoods Built on Elysian Fields I hardly ever read the paper anymore None of the news seems to make a lick of sense And anyway I think we've all gone well past the point Of ever making ever any meaningful amends (CHORUS) THE JESTER KING (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) There once was a bad king who gave up his crown For running his kingdom straight into the ground But the will of the people could not be denied And into the castle a new king did ride The friends of the old king could not understand Why peace and prosperity now ruled the land But the old king's horseshit and the old king's friends Couldn't restore him to power again Couldn't restore him to power again Now the son of the old king was a white-knuckle drunk Everything that he touched, turned into junk He was drunker and dumber than most common folk Everything that he said, come out as a joke The old king said: "Your majesty, I have a request, sir. Would you employ my son as the Kingdom's Court Jester?" But the truth was the old king and all of his friends Were itching to get back in power again Itching to get back in power again The new king considered the old king's request And to be fair, the new king was quite fond of jest So with malice towards none, he filled the position With the son of the old king, to ease the transition The loudest and dumbest of peasants rejoiced It seemed that the new king had made a good choice But the old king's horseshit and the old king's friends Would soon tip the balance of power again Soon tip the balance of power again The first day the Jester showed up with a grin But he didn't tell jokes, he merely broke wind He played to the crowd's ignorant superstition And accused disbelievers of downright sedition He lied and he laughed and much mud he did sling Till the crowd just went crazy and murdered the king The old king's horseshit and the old king's friends Had swindled the people and come back again Swindled the people and come back again The Jester declared war on several nations Then took off on one long extended vacation He looted the treasure for what it was worth Even destroyed that stone that said "Peace on Earth" Miles of wilderness were burned and laid bare While rhetoric and hate spewed out tons of hot air The Jester-King's horseshit and the Jester-King's friends Were filling the kingdom with foul air again Killing the kingdom with foul air again But far to the south, the storm clouds did gather and people detected a change in the weather "This hot air you're spewing has started to fester - Oh where is our savior, where is the Jester?" But the Jester-King laughed as the people made haste the soft black underbelly of the Kingdom laid waste The Jester-King's horseshit and the Jester-King's friends Couldn't put things back together again Couldn't put things back together again The bodies were floating, the levee was breached The gates of the kingdom were soon under siege Let this be a lesson to those that would rule A kingdom can't last at the hands of a fool And the people's blind trust in a God that would save them Works the best if use the brain that God gave them The Jester-King's horseshit and the Jester-King's friends Made sure that they'd never taste freedom again Made sure that they'd never taste freedom again WE'LL BUY A FLAG (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) The flag wavers, they all came to town The day the Twin Towers crumbled to the ground Like a comfort woman in the Second World War Old Glory was pimped out into some kinda two-bit whore Offering a discount rate in some alley off the boulevard We were strongly encouraged to display her in our front yard (CHORUS) But we'll buy a flag We'll buy a flag We'll buy a flag when we get our country back Then there came the stickers on the cars The way those rebels like to wave the stars and bars They had cute slogans, like: These colors do not run ... But what they really wanted was our daughters and our sons To plant that flag in some foreign glory hole So they could justify the elections that they stole (CHORUS) This is not a snarky snivel or a gripe Swear to God, I dearly love those stars and stripes But nowadays you know it isn't very often You see those flag wavers taking time to cover coffins Cause they don't like it when you confuse them with the facts They just hide behind their own little Patriot Act (CHORUS) The other day, went grocery shopping with my boys There was a kiosk, selling flags next to the toys They waved it high and I felt perplexed and proud When I explained to them that we just weren't allowed I said the old red white and blue had been disgraced But God willing things will change and one of these days ... But we'll buy a flag (and sew it on our backpack) We'll buy a flag (and walk through Europe) We'll buy a flag when we get our country back But we'll buy a flag (it's my country too) We'll buy a flag We'll buy a flag when we get our country back But we'll buy a flag We'll buy a flag We'll buy a flag when we get our country back MORRISON FIXED HIS GUITAR (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) Let this world report me well and truly As I ascend to my evening empire Twilight breeze at my back makes me feel like Kerouac All the wildflowers have grown back from the fire Love brought me here and I believe I feel the Earth's pulsing courage and unbreakable heart Every being is my son in whom I am well pleased Now that Morrison fixed his guitar Full moon rises like a freshly polished cueball looks like it was only born tonight frames the funny notion it just popped out of the ocean There's not one single crater in sight I'm sponsoring other drivers in my lane Marveling at the miracle of my car Let this world report me well and truly Morrison fixed his guitar CHORUS Yeah Morrison's guitar got fixed Holy state of grace striking up the band And just like the artisan that he is - repaired it with his two bare hands The lead story on the evening news is happy And every radio station plays my favorite song After all these years, finally found a real career fragile attitudes of failure all but gone And for the first time you know I think I understand: Every furrow in the field is a scar Let old seeds of disappointment be transformed by our tears Now that Morrison fixed his guitar CHORUS It's an old Gibson Sunburst acoustic Takes a little axe to bring down a big tree Threw it across the room in fit of rage and gloom And from that day forth remained our refugee But no more will the muse be left unmanned The drought is over, refill the repertoire Witness now the prodigal's return Morrison fixed his guitar CHORUS Love brought me here and I believe I feel the Earth's pulsing courage and unbreakable heart Every being is my son in whom I am well pleased Now that Morrison fixed his guitar Let this world report me well and truly Now that Morrison fixed his guitar GRANTED (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI and Darryl Purpose/Gambler's Grace Music-SESAC) Look what I found growing in my garden down on the ground topsoil parting Here comes a sprout, innocent and slender here comes a cloud, raindrops so tender Saving my seeds for the next harvest pulling up weeds like I'm an artist God's grand design — now I understand it And I'm resigned to how he planned it (BRIDGE) Roots strong grow long fingertips to the sun sing your sweet song The fruits of our labor are won Fruits of our labor are one Righting all wrongs, can you feel the power? Fill up my lungs with fragrant flowers It seems like years since it was planted now it appears my wish is granted BIG JOE AND PHANTOM 309 (Tommy Faile/Copyright Fort Knox Music, Inc. and Trio Music Company, Inc.) I was out on the east coast a few years back, tryin' to make a buck Times got hard, don't you know I got down on my luck I got tired a-roamin' and bummin' around So I figured I'd thumb my way out west, back to my old hometown I made quite a few miles in the first coupla days Hell, I figured I'd be home in week if my luck held out this way But don't you know it was the third night and I got stranded, way out of town At a cold, lonely crossroads, rain pourin' down I was hungry and freezin', caught myself a chill When the lights of a big semi topped the hill Man you shoulda seen me smile when I heard them air brakes come on And I climbed up into that cab, where I knew it'd be warm At the wheel sit a big man, he musta weighed about two-ten He stuck out his hand and said with a grin "Big Joe's the name", I told him mine And he said: "And this here rig is called Phantom 309" Well, I asked Joe why he called his rig such a name Joe smiled and said: "Why son, don't you know this old Mack be puttin' 'em all to shame! There ain't a driver, or a rig on this or any other line seen nothin' but the taillights of Phantom 309" So he pushed her ahead with 10 forward gears I told my stories and Joe told his dashboard was lit like a pinball machine The most serious semi truck I think I've ever seen Yeah, we rode and talked the better part of the night Till almost mysteriously, the lights of an old truck stop came into sight Joe said: "I'm sorry son, this is as far as you go. You see, I kinda gotta be makin' a turn, just up the road." But I'll be damned if he didn't toss me a dime as he threw it in low And said: "Go inside there, son, and have yourself a cup of coffee on old Big Joe." And I mean to tell ya, when Joe and his rig roared off in the night -- man, in nothin' flat, they was clean outta sight Well, I went inside that truck stop - well, I ordered me up a cup of mud Sayin': "Big Joe is settin' this dude up!" You coulda heard a pin drop, it got so deathly quiet And as the waiter's face turned kinda white. "What's the matter? Did I say something wrong?" I kinda said with a halfway grin He said: "No son, this happens every now and then You see, Every driver in here knows Big Joe - but let me tell you what happened just ten years ago ... It was out at that cold lonely crossroads where you musta flagged Joe down There was a whole bus load of kids, they were comin' back from town And they were right in the middle, when Joe topped the hill could have been a slaughter, 'cept Joe turned his wheel Yeah, he turned his wheel and went into a jackknife skid And there's no doubt Joe gave his life to save that busload-a kids And out there at that cold lonely crossroads, they're sayin' it was the end of the line For Big Joe and Phantom 309 ... But you know, it's funny every now and then, when the moon's holdin' water, ... Ever' now then, some hitchhiker'll come inside And just like you, say Big Joe just gave 'em a ride So here son, have another cup and a slice o' pie - you don't have to pay Cup o' coffee costs a buck fifty anyway, these days I kinda want you to kinda hang onto that dime as a souvenir, from Big Joe ... and Phantom 309."  Built Myself a Greenhouse (2005)GET UP (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) Time is a-wastin', coffee needs tastin' Get up, get out of bed Soon will be sun-up, be the first one up Get up, get out of bed Get up, get out of bed There's children to be fed There's wisdom to be read A message to be spread Get up, get out of bed Throw off that blanket, life is a banquet Get up, get out of bed You gotta cheat death, take in a deep breath Get up, get out of bed Get up, get out of bed There's families to be fed There's wisdom to be read A message to be spread Get up, get out of bed Open the window, feel the fresh wind blow Get up, get out of bed Ring in the morning, sound out a warning Get up, get out of bed Call the resurgents, timing is urgent Get up, get out of bed Might be our last chance to make an advance Get up, get out of bed Get up, get out of bed There's armies to be led There's wisdom to be read A message to be spread Get up, get out of bed Get up, get out of bed Get up, get out of bed Get up, get out of bed GREENHOUSE (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) I tend a garden downstate in the wilds of Illinois You might say I'm married to the soil But in the Spring of '61 Jeff Davis drew a line Like we was water and Dixie was the oil By the time of my enlistment Manassas had occurred 481 good men were killed But I am just a gardener with two humble green thumbs firing a gun is not my skill The only shooting you should do is with this boxy thing They said to me to calm my panicked fear Light comes in and hits the glass and captures what you see So with a so-called "camera," I took up the rear We hung a sheet between two poles and everybody posed As I refined my portraiture technique The boys were full of bluff and bluster in their uniforms and then a hundred died at Wilson's Creek CHORUS Roses blooming in the snow cut down with a sword Someone spilled red wine against the white I trampled out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored Nowadays I'm standing in the light I photographed the things they carried and the things they lost Including gangrene limbs and all their friends But I'd have anything if I could recapture The essence of my own lost innocence From Chancelorsville to Chickamauga - I did my duty well A wagon of glass plates I did collect At Appomattox Courthouse, I saluted General Grant turned over a bloody retrospect Ulysses sorted through the pile for hours without a word At times he worked a cigar in his mouth At last he shook my hand and said: I've got no use for these Went off to finalize things with the South To haul my wagon back to Springfield took me several months Cause every hour I had to stop and stare For though the Union had been saved there wasn't nothing left The country I had once known wasn't there CHORUS The garden I'd once tended was wild and gone to weeds crows and goats ignored me as they grazed I built myself a greenhouse with those photograph glass-plates It seemed a shame to let them go to waste Sometimes the faces mock me, enshrined in black and white Sometimes I want to smash them with a spade But other times the sun breaks through and for a little while I watch the memories blister, pop and fade CHORUS A LIFE IN MUSIC (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) I was born in a pine cone on the tallest spruce tree I was raised by a forest at the edge of the sea felled at 580, thought I'd lived my lifespan But that day at the sawmill was where my life began CHORUS I lived a life in music and it's funny to see how the guitar never falls very far from the tree Quartered and sanded and shipped here and there turned into cardboard, tables and chairs but the best part of me a luthier did buy a delicate cross-grain simply captured his eye delicate cross-grain simply captured his eye Measured and cut, fitted and matched tuned to turn when some strings were attached placed in a case and then sent to some store where I hung on the wall for six months or more hung on the wall for six months or more CHORUS Bought by a rich man and left in the case while he schemed and he traveled all over the place till his 8-year old daughter left alone in the house opened a closet and we became pals opened a closet and we became pals When she switched to piano in her 14th year I helped her kid brother recognize his career but he wanted things louder soon left me behind Yeah, he traded me in for the electric kind traded me in for the electric kind CHORUS Hocked and then bought and then re-hocked again Till a vagrant musician claimed he was my best friend a busker by trade played the subways and streets Heavy-gauge strings and a big boomin' beat Heavy-gauge strings and a big boomin' beat I became a real guitar in the hands of that man somehow we made it through a 30-year span Till the day his poor hands couldn't bang out the rent And we both cried as back to the pawnshop I went both cried as back to the pawnshop I went CHORUS But by this time my past it had caught up with me I was told that I now had a rare pedigree A rock and roll prince quickly carried me off But his hands were too weak and his fingertips soft hands were too weak and his fingertips soft Proudly displayed with those he'd collected But I didn't feel special, I just felt neglected So I bowed up my neck till the prince couldn't play And in no time at all the prince gave me away no time at all the prince gave me away CHORUS Strings were all tarnished, finish was cracked I ended my days with an old lumberjack The two of us found such a wonderful rhythm That when he passed on they buried me with him when he passed on they buried me with him Now I lie here at rest in a stand of spruce trees 10 billion songs still beating in me The lumberjack slumbers, I dream of decay And wait for the tree roots to take me away CHORUS STORIES THAT WE TELL (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI and Darryl Purpose/Gambler's Grace Music-SESAC) So you wanna write a story Let me show you how it's done First you get yourself a good guy and you fit him with a gun Then you rustle up some bad guys, the dark and evil kind so when they get slaughtered, no one minds But when the fight is over and everything seems well and everyone awaits their place in heaven or in hell Just don't forget we become the stories that we tell So you wanna write a story Let me show you how it's done First, you build yourself a temple that can almost touch the sun then you write yourself some rules 'bout how folks should behave and how the others won't be saved And when the crusade's over and the tolling of the bell covers up the cries of the fallen infidels Just don't forget we become the stories that we tell Yeah we become the stories as the things we think and do and feel enfold us And the story still reveals itself and tells our children's children what it told us Sold us, yeah yeah yeah So you wanna write a story Let me show you how it's done First you build yourself a country and you call it Number One Then you find yourself a country you can treat like Number Two because they don't do things like you do And when the final native son has been killed or expelled when you control the diamond mines and every oily well Just don't forget we become the stories that we tell QUESTION OF FAMILY (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) Well I bought me a plum tree, planted it straight away gave it love and attention, watered it every day Saw it bloom in the springtime but no fruit did appear When the leaves fell in autumn I thought: Maybe next year So I waited through winter, through the ice and the snow another spring and a summer, still had nothing to show So I asked of an expert why the fruit didn't come He said: This tree's ornamental. There won't be any plums. CHORUS It's a question of family that comes up now and then it's a subject that's slippery I'm sure you understand that my faith and my patience is almost at an end for the question of family that begins with When? I'm afraid to go shopping at the grocery store You see, I've got a heart condition that I just can't ignore Cause when I look at a baby in its mother's arms and twins in a stroller set off all my alarms CHORUS SMALL CHANGE DEAL (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) Why must my life be a small-change deal Why must my life be a small-change deal Right side of the menu to order a meal when your life is a small-change deal Why must my future be a one-room flat Why must my future be a one-room flat Nothin' but cold water comin' out of the tap when your future is a one-room flat Why must my dreams wither on the vine Why must my dreams wither on the vine Harvesting raisins praying for wine when your dreams wither on the vine Why must my life be a small-change deal Why must my life be a small-change deal Right side of the menu to order a meal when your life is a small-change deal NUMBAH ONE BOOM-BOOM (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) The best thing you could say about the worst day in her life was that the shiner on her left eye matched the shiner on her right She thought about taking classes at The Friendly Tae Kwon Do or filing for divorce but then where could she go She sang some karaoke at The Sweet & Sour Bar with a hooker from Sonora who knew Sam Peckinpah it was somewhere in the chorus of Independence Day that she realized what she must do and there was no other way ... CHORUS It's sad but it's true that she shot her husband down with a .44 from the Happy Gun Store in Koreatown She stood outside of the gun store and looked at her reflection the owner saw her bruised eyes and said: You need big protection She told him that she'd been attacked but she hid the awful truth that it was her lawful husband who'd knocked out her front tooth She didn't have enough scratch but she began to smell a deal when the hooker from Sonora let the old man cop a feel She got a Dirty Harry Special -- he called it Number One Boom-Boom And the deal was sealed when the hooker took him into the backroom CHORUS Her husband was in the carport off the empty alleyway He said: Where the hell's my dinner? I've had a long, hard workin' day When he popped her with a love tap from the back of his hand she let him know, without a doubt, that it was more than she could stand ... The hooker made it look like a random robbery then they both moved in together and split the insurance money her husband got the cold slab at the Good Luck Mortuary and now every Friday she and the hooker go sing Karaoke CHORUS ... Yeah, she's glad that it's true that she shot her husband down with a .44 from the Happy Gun Store in Koreatown THAT'S WHY THEY CALL IT A SHOT (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) When I turned 21, I stepped into a bar on the outskirts of my hometown showed the man my I.D., he wished me happy birthday slammed a bottle and a tiny shot glass down He saw me lick my lips as he filled 'er to the tip I was good to go, ready for some fun I laid down my cash and reached out for the glass he grabbed my arm, said: Just a minute son ... Now this here glass of whiskey is a mighty powerful thing it's mowed down a multitude of men you best treat it with respect, cause it's got an awful kick and over time, on it you might depend It can knock you off that stool and on your butt that's why they call it a shot that's why they call it a shot When you first feel the impact you just might double over as the heat goes tearin' through your craw you'll know positively why they call it rotgut whiskey when you're walkin' wounded, ripped apart and raw It hits your belly and burns an awful lot that's why they call it a shot that's why they call it a shot When it takes your head off, Lord it makes an awful mess like a bullet ricocheting 'round your brain mangles all your memories, hamstrings all your histories till you can't tell the pleasures from the pain An assassin is aiming for your thoughts that's why they call it a shot that's why they call it a shot He said I know you didn't come here to listen to me preach I only hope this warnin' serves you well but as he turned away I couldn't help but be amazed: how all those glasses look like ammo shells The place was fillin' up by then, so I took a look around the barroom had become a battlefield casualties surrounded me, bodies weighted down, ya see, by leaden liquored wounds that never healed Then I looked at my chest and did a double take there was a target with a bulls eye on my heart so I quickly stole away, but ever since that day before I take a drink, I think ... long and hard that's why they call it a shot that's why they call it a shot It's the kind of war I'm glad I never fought that's why they call it a shot that's why they call it a shot HOBO JERRY (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI and Chad Watson/Missouri Man Music-BMI) Go tell Texas Slim and good ol' Lonesome Lou Andy Lang from the Lakeshore Gang way up in Kalamazoo Go tell the Singin' Brakeman to spread it on down the line We're gonna bury Hobo Jerry for the very last time Tell the lion tamer, the acrobat on high, The raconteurs and the troubadours who love to speechify Go tell the geeks and sideshow freaks to consecrate a shrine So we can bury Hobo Jerry for the very last time Carve him out a tombstone, there'll be no resurrection He won't exhume by the light of the moon For your Saturday night attraction A Barnum-Bailey epitaph for a son way past his prime Oh lay him down in darkness, the Sovereign of this land And if you choose to take his shoes I'm sure he'd understand The richest man in 12 states didn't leave behind a dime We're gonna carry Hobo Jerry to the old cemetery Bury Hobo Jerry for the very last time Bury Hobo Jerry for the very last time FATHER WAS A WARRIOR (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) My father was a warrior His followers were legion and all of them expendable His weapons, they were fearsome and always indispensable racing like a stallion through the pain When your father's a warrior every dream is a campaign My father was a warrior each choice was a strategy, each step was a battle every problem was the enemy, to be slaughtered and then straddled staring straight ahead with stony eyes When your father's a warrior you focus on the prize If you want a piece of me then bring it on But you best be careful you're messin' with a warrior's son My father was a warrior each talent was an arsenal, each family was a nation every shame, a court-martial, every hug, a commendation shackled by an old chain of command When your father's a warrior you're marching to the band HAPPIER THAN THEY KNEW (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) I'm too close to this couple to offer sage advice so feel free to disregard my point of view but it seems to be so clear looking back on all those years they appear to be happier than they knew You don't know what it means to be scared till you have kids and mister, I'm not just talkin' about the flu what with adolescent rants crazy auto accidents what's the chance they'd be happier than they knew There oughta be a prize When you think about the size of the real estate they own in space and time let the record indicate though the hour is getting late neither one of them was ever left behind Hot and cold running wars they have spent some time apart to this day don't know the way they made it through but through all the lonely nights slamming doors, midnight fights ... you got it right, they were happier than they knew There oughta be a prize When you think about the size of the real estate they own in space and time let the record indicate though the hour is getting late neither one of them was ever left behind We're too close to this couple to offer sage advice so feel free to disregard our point of view but it seems to be so clear looking back on all those years they appear to be happier than they knew yeah it seems to be so clear looking back on all those years looky here, they were happier than they knew MAGAZINE SONG (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) I was a playboy and a hustler, livin' in the penthouse, Having high times on a spin like a rolling stone But now I'm in the family circle, with a mademoiselle I got a cosmopolitan, metropolitan home Yeah, the TV. was my guide, I got my entertainment weekly Without a soap opera to digest, I would panic But now I love the outdoor life, I'm standing in a field and stream All my sports are illustrated by a popular mechanic Yeah, I know that it's time to renew And I don't have any kind of a clue You see I no longer subscribe to those views I got more important issues to peruse I was a cigar aficionado with a fortune and success Yeah I spent my smart money on food and wine But now me and Mother Jones we got a better home & garden Two weight watchers into vegetarian times Yeah, I know that it's time to renew And I think I've found a halfway good excuse You see I no longer subscribe to those views I got more important issues to peruse I was a playboy and a hustler, livin' in the penthouse, Having high times on a spin like a rolling stone But now I'm in the family circle, with a mademoiselle I got a cosmo girl in a metropolitan home No depression ‘bout my dirty linen on a billboard Sing out BARBARA'S GUITAR (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) Let's play a song on Barbara's guitar Because strumming the strings of a thing once alive can put to rest any rumors of death There's vine of life choking the fingerboard Hard to tell if it's real or phony But that purfling that's circling The body and sound hole Is without a doubt real abalone I have longed to hold seashells very close to my ears I'm a child in search of sweet song There are oceans within Come on in Let's play a song on Barbara's guitar All the ballads she yearned to have learned come alive Simply to show what we already know Put on the best strings that money can buy And make up some magical tuning When we sing it we'll wing it And watch while our fingers Paint pictures like Willem de Kooning I have longed to hold tree bones very close to my breast Let me lift this one out of the casket And her spirit is near Can you hear Let's write a song on Barbara's guitar She's longing to find us, wants to remind us we're alive She will show us the chords to move towards Copy it down like a cheap bill of sale Historical record of provenance We'll design it and sign it Our children will find it And thank their divine Providence And each time I gaze in my precious sons' eyes I see Barbara in search of sweet song And I'll teach them to play A new song every day So their grandkids can say We are here She is here BUNCHA DAMN SONGWRITERS (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) Who told you that you could sugar the coffee Who told you that you could stir in the cream on a Lightfoot lake east of Milwaukee where the witch of November killed a summertime dream Who told you that you could forge me a guitar with Mesabi Range iron steel strings? ring the chimes of freedom from Hibbing to Bleecker till the Birmingham Choir had no choice but to sing Who told you that you could ever be heard Who told you that you could act so absurd You're just a buncha damn songwriters yodeling words for to gargle inside of your throat and it won't change the way that I vote You're a stranger to most, you're the last one they toast it's like you got some kind of disease you seldom get laid, you never get paid just your name in parentheses Who told you that you could drink up the Delta Who told you that you could debauch the queen topple the bandstand in old Philadelphia for the life-giving lust of a little girl's scream Who told you that you could power the people to push past the parades of war repaint each ghetto from Watts to Soweto with the pure, plaintive poems of the pressurized poor Who told you that you could rule the world Who told you that you could dance with my girl You're just a buncha damn songwriters gathering pearls for to hang 'round the neck of a shoat and it won't change the way that I vote and it won't change the way that I vote probably won't change the way that I vote  Follow a Hunch (1996)GREASY COFFEE BEANS (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) Grind up some greasy, greasy coffee beans Colombian dark supreme my heart beats fast and my eyes are wide make me toss and turn all night with crazy, crazy caffeine dreams from all those greasy, greasy coffee beans Ah Greasy, greasy coffee beans Make me feel so extreme your instant coffee is just brown water I need fresh java beans to run my motor I'm a lubricated complex machine that runs on greasy, greasy coffee beans Ah Greasy, greasy coffee beans The only high that's really clean I like cream in my coffee like a thundercloud sugar as sweet as a horn is loud if you wanna break the old routine grind up some greasy, greasy coffee beans Greasy, greasy coffee beans Greasy, greasy coffee beans Greasy, greasy coffee beans REQUIEM FOR RAYMOND CARVER (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) Most people they look up in the middle of the day and all they see is the sun But he looks up and sees a bright, blazing star and much, much more beyond (chorus) Did you see his light Did you hear his noise Did he lead you down a better path He's a deadbeat and a drifter but he's also a dreamer who'll tell ya: "One out of three ain't that bad" It's a very good thing when he can put together something with just a pencil and his two bare hands And it's even better when his eyes can see it and his mind and spirit understand (chorus) (break) If you hire him, you'll probably fire him If you love him, you're probably stuck with him He's the first one out of bed and the last to go to sleep waiting for his muse to arrive He's never had a plan, looks like an ordinary man but he's scribbling in the margins of his life (chorus) FOLLOW A HUNCH (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) You never see the same face twice in the city wish I could guess the name of everyone I see There's a little bit of me inside their bones I'd like to let 'em know they're not alone There's no genie inside this aluminum can got no quick-fix, no handbook, and no plan It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that today is already history Chorus: Give me love, wisdom and courage -- that's a start If I should take an angry breath, I'll bite my tongue I'm gonna try as hard as I can not to try so hard From now on, I follow a hunch When you follow a hunch, you do a service to yourself you know that every insult is a cry for help and the brightest desert day is pitch black compared to the light of God -- and that's a fact There's no genie inside this aluminum can got no quick-fix, no handbook, and no plan There's a little bit of me inside your bones I'd like to let you know you're not alone Chorus: Give me love, wisdom and courage -- that's a start If I should take an angry breath, I'll bite my tongue I'm gonna try as hard as I can not to try so hard From now on, I follow a hunch Love, wisdom and courage -- that's a start If I should take an angry breath, I'll bite my tongue I'm gonna try as hard as I can not to try so hard From now on, I follow a hunch THE PISTOL (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) I was always one to consider myself as coming from a long, long line of cussers and fighters and wild bull riders and connoisseurs of fine moonshine My old granddaddy called me The Pistol said I was a son-of-a-gun and in keepin' up with the family tradition I was not to be outgunned For longest time I've been punchin' in late guess my good luck just expired 'cause this ol' Pistol just got loaded and fired Yeah this ol' Pistol just got loaded and fired The boss said my performance on the job left a lot to be desired I tried to argue but I couldn't talk straight and I suddenly felt real tired, 'cause this ol' Pistol just got loaded and fired Here I stand at the old time clock call it the scene of the crime My eyes are red and halfway closed and my breath smells like turpentine I'm through with drinkin' my breakfast guess it's time to get inspired 'cause this ol' Pistol just got loaded and fired (REPEAT CHORUS) I tried to argue but I couldn't see straight and I suddenly felt real tired, 'cause this ol' Pistol just got loaded and fired SIX STEEL STRINGS (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) I first heard it on the radio a solitary symphony I didn't know exactly what it was -- but it had something to with me it wasn't till I was five-years old when I found out that that thing was 20 frets on a wooden box with six steel strings Well, I knew I had to have one so I saved up every dime for two summers I picked strawberries trying to make it mine I spent Saturdays at the sacred store from morning to evening playing 20 frets on a wooden box with six steel strings Yeah, the musical gate had opened once I started, I couldn't stop I got a 12-string and a banjo and I began to improve my chops I even got me a Stratocaster with everything but the kitchen sink But I always came back to a wooden box with six steel strings In my twenties, life got serious and I began to observe no one cared about my music I had less than I deserved So I took up with a woman who said "put away childish things Like 20 frets on a wooden box with six-steel strings" Now I'm way past thirty and I'm happy to report I finally got rid of that woman and I'm back to learnin' chords well I found me a brand-new lady and she loves to hear me sing and 20 frets on a wooden box with six steel strings 20 frets on a wooden box with six steel strings BONNIE (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) She was workin' the counter at the Kennedy Carwash suckin' on a cigarette She was readin' "Soldier Of Fortune" and her eyes had criminal intent Well, I sucked in my gut, buttoned my fly and straightened up my collar I said, "Could you change my money" and I gave her a twenty She handed me 40 half-dollars (CHORUS) Bonnie, Bonnie Bonnie let me be your Clyde I got a wife at home with 4 and a half kids and a girlfriend on the side Bonnie, Bonnie Bonnie let me be your Clyde I know I look like a jerk but when you get off work Could you take me for a ride Her Mustang was filled with unpaid tickets but Bonnie didn't look concerned She smoked another cigarette down to the filter -- I was hopin' we'd both get burned She fishtailed the car and kissed me so hard that my lips felt like they'd been stapled We went to DB Cooper's and we threw back shooters till I was starin' at the bottom of the table (CHORUS) She was naked on the couch with one foot in the air twitchin' like a stray cat's tail Her body was covered with tattoos and studs -- an illustrated Braille female Well I took my time readin' the instructions -- even the ones on her ass I was an old tomcat who just wanted to be bad I was lickin' the aquarium glass (CHORUS) (BRIDGE) She pulled out a 38 caliber pistol and loaded it with one bullet She said, "Let's make love while the sun comes up and we're playin' Russian roulette" Well I sucked in my breath, buttoned my fly and slowly backed away I said, "It's funny my dear, how things looks so clear In the first strong light of the day" Bonnie, Bonnie Bonnie I can't be your Clyde I got a wife at home with 4 and a half kids and a girlfriend on the side Bonnie, Bonnie Bonnie I can't be your Clyde I know I sound like a jerk but I'm late for work Would you mind givin' me a ride I know I sound like a jerk but I'm late for work Would you mind givin' me a ride Bonnie Bonnie Bonnie CLEAN (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) When the half-moon looks like a bar of soap or a breath mint of wintergreen That's the time that I lose all hope and I wonder: Will I ever be clean Yes, I wonder if I'll ever be clean Underneath the bath towels on the shelf is where I stash my dirty magazines I take a cold shower and I dry myself and I wonder: Will I ever be clean Yes, I wonder if I'll ever be clean Do you know what I mean Will I ever be clean You know the longer you run the machine the harder it is to keep clean Do you know what I mean Will I ever be clean You know the longer you run the machine the harder it is to keep clean the harder it is to keep clean I watch the kitty-cat take a sunbath on the rug by the back porch screen I raise my arm and I lick my hand and I wonder: Will I ever be clean Yes, I wonder if I'll ever be clean Now the rain makes lip-smacking noises while a newborn baby screams about the unavoidable choices that leave us all so unclean Yes, they leave us all so unclean Do you know what I mean Will we ever be clean You know the longer we run the machine the harder it is to keep clean Do you know what I mean Will we ever be clean You know the longer we run the machine the harder it is to keep clean the harder it is to keep clean I'M FROM CALIFORNIA (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) Well, you say that you're from New York City and you're right at home in a angry mob with the sound of breakin' glass well, you know that I'm from California And I say California can kick your ass Well, you say you live on the Mississippi and every Spring the rains come and the river rises fast well, you know that I'm from California And I say California can kick your ass CHORUS: I don't mean any disrespect and you can bet that I am quite sincere when I say that the state of California's been kickin' my ass for years Well, you say that you're from east of Java where the ground shakes and the earth quakes -- and all that jazz well, you know that I'm from California And I say California can kick your ass CHORUS: I don't mean any disrespect and you can bet that I am quite sincere when I say that the state of California's been kickin' my ass for years Well, maybe you're from depths of hell where the furnace of damnation blows a hot and fiery blast well, you know that I'm from California And I say California can kick your ass Yes, I know California can kick your ass DEVIL DRIVES A DODGE (Robert Morgan Fisher & Ethan Wiley/Extended Family Music-BMI) Devil drives a Dodge, the headlights are red the gas tank's empty, the battery's dead Radiator's frozen, the A/C steams the tailpipe smells like a case of gangrene Curled up in the back of this phantom tank it's a woman soft and warm as a Navajo blanket praying for her life shivering in fear at the bloodshot eyes in the rearview mirror There's a hero on the trail a hundred miles back where not a living thing stands, the cactus is black The scorched earth leads to the end of the line where the they finally meet and the vultures will dine -- on the loser He's hot on the trail of that phantom tank with a woman soft and warm as a Navajo blanket Praying for her life shivering in fear at the bloodshot eyes in the rearview mirror The wind blows through bullet holes in every window ringed, cracked webs of an angry black widow Devil drives a Dodge on the molten asphalt no brakes, no spare, the tires are bald Devil drives a Dodge, the headlights are red the gas tank's empty, battery's dead Curled up in the back of this phantom tank it's a woman soft and warm as a Navajo blanket ALCOHOL (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) The building where the band once played is called a "Gazebo" The picnic lunch that you've made is served "Al Fresco" You'll be mortar to love's pestle grind my potion in the vessel My lips kiss the rim of the glass as if it was your mouth And then Alcohol, oh Alcohol always something with Alcohol Oh Alcohol, something with Alcohol Why do we hate what we create The bowtie and the black-tail coat is called a "tuxedo" The vintage wine they serve -- is a "Bordeaux" I'm a stylus that is driven to play the record of ambition They all raise their glasses high towards my destiny But then Alcohol, oh Alcohol always something with Alcohol Oh Alcohol, something with Alcohol Why do we break the things we make The wife, the baby and myself constitutes a "trio" we pose for the camera in a "tableau" The child sees the picture often from the cradle to the coffin Tries to remember Tries to forget Because Alcohol, oh Alcohol always something with Alcohol Oh Alcohol, something with Alcohol Why do we break the things we make Oh, how we hate what we create NEVER LEAVE A MAN BEHIND (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) So Tonto didn't come back from El Diablo Canyon the posse turned and said to the Lone Ranger "It's late, we've got to turn back" But he replied to his companions: "We don't `heigh-ho silver' till the last one's out of danger" You never wave a loaded gun unless you're willing to pull the trigger and you don't turn your back on a buddy you can't find and you never really grow up it's just your body getting bigger the most important thing is: You never leave a man behind Private Johnson had been missing since the previous afternoon in the final daring mission of the war "Though the enemy's in retreat," said the leader of the platoon, "The battle's not over till we're all accounted for" You never wave a loaded gun unless you're willing to pull the trigger and you don't turn your back on a buddy you can't find and you never really grow up it's just your body getting bigger the most important thing is: You never leave a man behind So much for lessons learned at a Saturday matinee sometimes I can't help feeling like a fake I'm supposed to be an adult and forget about yesterday but I have a feeling that would be a mistake You'll never see a movie again for less than seven dollars and you don't turn your back on the child in your mind and you never really grow up it's just the world getting smaller the most important thing is: You never leave yourself behind No you never leave a man You never leave yourself You never leave a man behind NO MISTAKES (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) Go figure a person who's got more than he can spend, if he gives you twenty dollars--would you be his friend He's got a techno-bitch on the side and that ain't all But I've made no mistakes that I can recall No, I've made no mistakes that I can recall Go figure a woman who says you treat her much too fine, she's happier being another dried out concubine It's the immortality of the bathroom wall But I've made no mistakes that I can recall No, I've made no mistakes that I can recall (instrumental break) Go figure a company in the Fortune five-O-O, taxman sends a letter addressed to the CEO He says "I gave at the office" --can you imagine the gall But I've made no mistakes that I can recall No, I've made no mistakes that I can recall LARGE LOVE (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) I know I've been thinking a lot this year 'cause my head is so empty Just because my eyes are starry, Doesn't mean that I'm not sorry for breaking up the party-- before the first guest even arrived (Chorus) Turn up the corners of your mouth, and inflate your heart My parachute won't open and this time it's gonna take a Large Love to break the fall I know I've been loved a lot this year `cause my heart is so heavy When you've been disappointed by a lover, It's hard to recover But you've shown me your true colors-- How can we go back to black and white (Chorus) Turn up the corners of my mouth, and deflate my ego Wouldn't need no parachute if I could only lighten up, and land on an easy memory JAWS OF THE ANGEL (Robert Morgan Fisher/Extended Family Music-BMI) In the Spring of '85 I headed west on the Christopher Columbus Transcontinental Highway I had to floor it as I descended to keep from being up-ended by the wind blowing up the San Bernardino Mountains I was crawling into the hot breath of The Angel I was dreaming of adventure, the whitewashed buildings looked like dentures on each side of the San Diego Freeway Just like false teeth in the Jaws Of The Angel In the Spring of '85 I headed west on the Christopher Columbus Transcontinental Highway Got a job as a deejay while I polished up my resume and settled in the San Fernando Valley just out of reach of The Jaws Of The Angel Then I made a stab at acting 'cause my sanity was cracking like the San Andreas Faultline cracking and sliding into The Jaws Of The Angel In the Spring of '85 I headed west on the Christopher Columbus Transcontinental Highway Wedding bells were ringing, I was writing songs and singing so moved to Santa Monica City getting closer to The Jaws Of The Angel But in the Spring of '92, Something smoldering just blew we fled to Santa Catalina Island smoke was pouring from The Jaws Of The Angel In the aftermath that followed, we were like a pair of swallows coming home to San Juan Capistrano just like to love birds flying back into The Jaws Of The Angel And to think it all began In the Spring of '85 when I headed west on the Christopher Columbus Transcontinental Highway |
Biography | Fiction | Music | Screenwriting | Photos | Voiceovers | Lyrics | Praise | Links | Twitter | Facebook | Trivia | Store | Tour
News & Highlights | Audio | Video | Narrative Engineer | UCLA Wordcommandos | Contact