Here We Are
Here we are.
A rock and roll and stoner soul convention.
If you fall,
At least I hope you’re falling my direction.
Even if you’re leaving there’s just one thing to ask before you go.
Ask yourself do you need anybody?
That’s the only thing I need to know.
Getting It On
Buy baby buy. You’re a Corporation guy.
I treat you like a preacher swat the flies from my eyes.
But I sleep all day and I howl all night
Even when I’m dreaming it’s in black and it’s in white.
But the dawn won’t wait. I can see her by the gate.
Her eyes like the glitter skies just before the dawn.
…Dawn gone, get you along
All that I can think about is getting it on.
Daddy gone, daddy gone. I’m in the house alone
Loafing on the sofa with his dopest headphones.
And it feels like a lie though I don’t want to tell you why
It’s like a teacher scolding Holden in the “Catcher in the Rye”
But the night’s running low. Impossible to slow
Her eyes like the glitter skies just before the dawn.
…Dawn gone, get you along
All that I can think about is getting it on.
Try Me
Life can be so ordinary waiting for the wind to carry us away.
Dreams can be so hard to gather when there’s nothing left that matters anyway.
Try me on for size
I’m open wide.
Time can be so hard to figure when the picture’s getting bigger every day.
Life can be so ordinary waiting for the wind to carry us away.
Try me on for size
I’m open wide.
We all just go through the motions don’t we? Now, don’t we?
We rise and fall on the same blue oceans, now don’t we?
Just don’t quote me, float with me.
Peter Today
Peter Tosh was a surly Rasta. He took Nesta and he showed him the way.
He was cut down by his own babylon nature.
But we sure could use some of Peter today.
Nesta Marley was a visionary. A revolutionary who made the world change.
His end came too soon, but every Nation
Still is singing his songs to this day.
Wailing Wailers
Livingston is the sole survivor. Him live in Kingston. He still in JA.
He made his bones as a ragamuffin soldier
It sure is good to have a living son today.
Wailing Wailers
The Wailing Wailers were a world sensation. They enchanted the Nations.
They took it all the way.
It ended too soon as tomorrow is promised to no one.
I’m sure glad I got to see you today.
Glad I got to see you today.
Big Enough
This old house ain’t big enough to stand through another of these storms
This old glass ain’t big enough to hold all this fuel to keep me warm.
This old room ain’t big enough, enough shelter for this old man.
And when this old world gets rough enough, I need a place to land.
I’m blue as a bruise and I’m about to turn black
And this hole in the ground is breaking my back…
This old town ain’t big enough to have and hold or hunker and hide.
And the years go by like highway signs that the mirror left behind.
Blue as a bruise and I’m blacker than black and this hole in my soul is breaking my back.
Blue as a bruise and I’m ’bout to turn black and there’s a hole in the ground that’s calling me back.
King of Bavaria
One of the blue pills, two of the black, warm sip of something to knock it back.
Voices fade, they’ve gone to play somewhere other than here.
But they’re in the area..
The fog is real but it’s starting to fade with every hour that I’m awake.
The light is blinding, the sun is shining through the cracks in my head.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
I’d live in a castle, a Queen for a Bride.
There I am. The King of Bavaria…
And at night the sun goes down. I can hear hear voices on the edge of town.
They bend my ear, I’m starting to hear what they’re saying invading my blood like malaria.
Here I am, clearer than most as long as the medicine sticks to me.
Most of the day I’ll be OK in the eyes of
Those who prescribe me.
But at night, the voices adjourn
To talk of their day, and in return
I give them a slice of the day in the life of the King of Bavaria.
It’s the greatest thing,
I’m the King of the area.
Whatcha think of me now?
Solomon’s Gold
Hold on to the rope a little bit longer, we may get out of this alive.
Don’t look down at the churning water. What they told us was a lie.
A Fortune is gone…
Bull or a bear. We’re handing over bundles and it’s raining on my leg again
History will show ya they bone ya like they own ya
And now there’s nothing left to send…
The Fortress was strong and allied, it’ll never be that way again
A fortune is gone. A pack of lies.
It’s not gone, it’s only changing hands.
The cool of the evening falls equally upon us all.
Find a common comfort we all share.
Heat lightning lights like day for a moment then it fades away.
Leaves us even darker than before.
The Devil’s pushing poison on us all. Some will stand and some will fall
With crosses or with X’s on our eyes.
Saw my chance to leave this place with a little girl with an ancient face
She said “This is not the way for you to fly
and this is not the day for you to die”.
Not for Me
Being true was good for you, but not for me.
Being cool was good for you, but not for me, it’s not for me.
Getting old got old for you, but not for me
Being sold went Gold for you, but not for me
It’s not for me.
Running over the same old coals
The Cross that I carry, nobody knows
The dreams that I lie on drown in the folds…
Getting used was news for you, but not for me
Be excused, but don’t confuse Democracy with what you see
It’s not for me.
I never doubted you at all.
I never wanted you to fall at all.
Temporary Night
Look around the world and see that’s nothing’s fair.
Truth is lost and good as gone.
Men who should be hung on hooks
are portraited and hang instead on hallowed halls.
The blind will lead the kind into the ditch
like fools walking devoid of light
What tuppence left of Truth will sift between their hands
leaving them all cloaked in night.
Thought it seems to permeate the very essence of our life
those who hide within the dark someday soon will be in sight.
Realize the fleeting nature of this absence of the light.
This is only temporary, temporary night.
Calling out to drifting souls.
You need to know you incandescent essence shines.
Hieroglyphic flickers glow
distracting from the Truth that waits behind…
I didn’t know what day it was.
I followed you down to the parade in the Barrio.
How the Music filled the streets.
How our souls longed to dance.
Children beat a paper beast and feasted on it’s sweet entrails
‘neath a Hunter’s Moon.
Drinking holy Water all afternoon…
’till I’m dead on my feet on the Cinco de Mayo.
We were never meant to live this way but to live and die another way.
Surreal Good Time
Grinding my gears ’til I”m free. Grabbing a spot by a tree.
Leaving the whole world behind as a new one is forming.
Meeting the neighbors and dogs. Collecting some kindling and logs
and then piecing together events that are vague in the Morning.
Either way it’s OK. A new day is dawning.
Standing in a river of Bliss. Saved up to throw down like this.
Spending the day’s final rays far away from the pavement.
Stars start to scatter above. Feel the osmosis of Love.
Either way it’s OK, the night’s mad as a hatter.
Either way it’s OK, it’s won’t really matter.
Throwing it down.
Lighting a thousand eyes.
Feeling the sound
Holding a big surprise.
Sun going down.
Sound turning up again.
Spinning around
And then you find your friends.
It’s surreal. It’s a real good time
It’s a real, a surreal good time.
Highway Girl
I met a girl who worked on the Highway.
Finally, a girl I understand who rolls up her sleeves when she works on her tan.
I met a girl who worked on the Highway.
I met a girl who stands like a tower.
I met a girl who gets paid by the hour.
I met a girl who slows me down with her hands on a sign and her boots on the ground.
I met a girl who worked on the Highway.
I took her out for a ride and she brought a friend.
I guess they opened my eyes to the bitter end.
She got off and she never ever called again..
I met a girl who worked on the Highway.
I met a girl who didn’t see things my way.
In the end it was heads or tails but she didn’t float my boat and she didn’t trim her sails.
I met a girl who worked on the Highway…
Movement of the Wheel
I feel like I’m evaporating
There’s a little less of me
Though my heart is palpitating
I feel like I’m evaporating
Up into indifferent ether
Heat that peels me from the sea
I feel like I’m evaporating
There’s a little less of me
but I play the parts I feel in the movement of the wheel.
I feel like I am getting heavy
Like there’s a little more of me.
One more wake could break the levy
I feel like I am getting heavy
Down the drunken depths of sorrow
Tangled on the bottom of the sea.
I feel like I am getting heavy
There’s a little more of me
I play the parts I feel in the movement of the wheel.
Some say it’s the gold that matters.
Some say it’s the love we find.
Some find strength in fables gathered.
Some find Truth on tethered vine.
Some say the days go on forever
It’s simply isn’t true my friend.
It’s the time we spend between the days that never ends.
We play the parts we feel in the movement of the wheel.
Nietzsche Stares
Catch your breath and find your rhythm. Then come and tell it all to me…
Take a light in the window.
Talk a walk in the dark.
Take a breath in the silence.
Take a minute and start.
Take a break in the shadows
Take a bow with the bold.
Take a hit, but keep playing
Take a band on the road…
It’s a bright love that you shine on me.
It’s a bright love that you shine.
Brother’s lost out in the world, searching for a hidden pearl
Sister’s reaching for the stars.
Mother’s gone and floating free. Echoes in the canopy
Father’s lost and can’t be found.
It’s a bright love that you shine on me.
Wilson’s Lament
Maybe I’m not the monster you thought I was. Each man must do what he does.
Don’t think you know me ’til you’ve walked a mile in my shoes ’til you’ve heard a night of my Blues.
With no one to Cry to, my nights as a child passed me by. Silence was my lullaby.
When I first arrived in the forest where War was still an unknown I knew I could never go home.
Everyone plays with the whys and the maybes of days while still I sit lost in a maze.
Isolation that victory brings is the worst Hell of all. Waiting alone for the fall
The student that mastered the secret with nothing at all
You’d swing from a rope for his balls.
And the love that I hoped you would harbor for me in your chest
Just rippled and died like the rest.
When Hope is denied, Truth is the next one to die. Evermore living a lie.
All that is left is a dream that is covered in dust. Each man must do what he must.
The Book that I read said “…forgiveness to your fellow man”
That’s all I say that I am..
Just maybe I’m not the monster you thought that you caught.
Maybe I’m not what you thought…