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Miscellaneous Oddities we have occasionally been caught playing, and some new songs, too ... |
Here are our last two recorded songs, Do
You? and Train's In Trouble, released via the magic of the Internets!
Plus some new lyrics and soundfiles to some very old songs that probably
should have stayed unheard ...
Do You
Do You
Do you remember?
Do you remember?
Do you remember the time?
Do you remember the time?
Do you remember the time when?
Do you remember the time when?
Do you?
Do you?
Do you?
Do you?
Do you?
Do you?
We went for a walk
To have an innocent talk (repeat)
But we built a fire
They could see for miles
With a flame so high
:chorus:
ah ah ah
Jesus Fucking Christ!
Put out the fire (3x)
The noise, so bare
naked to the world (repeat)
My desire, the fire
the briar patch was there
:chorus:
It burned and burned
Leaving the briar patch refreshed, renewed, refreshed, renewed...
Do you?
Do you?
Do you?
The briar patch not dared
to speak a word so bare
to speak a word so bare
to speak a word so bare
to speak a word so bare
Jesus
Fucking Christ!
Put out the fire (3x)
Jesus
Fucking Christ!
Put out the fire (repeat ad nauseum)
Outro:
Do You
Do You
Do you remember?
Do you remember?
Do you remember the time?
Do you remember the time when?
Do you remember the time when?
Do you?
Do you?
Do you?
Do you?
Do you?
Do you?
I've got trouble down below,
Trouble in my head.
Trouble's name is Otto --
Trouble's name is Fred.
This train's in trouble.
It's hard to ride.
The wheels are on top --
The smokestack's inside.
Chorus:
This train's in trouble.
It's plain to see.
This train's in trouble,
And it's troubling me.
Trouble is flirtatious
And fickle as can be.
I never trouble trouble
But trouble troubles me.
This train's in trouble.
It's on the wrong track.
It's supposed to go forward,
But it's going back.
:chorus:
I can't stop troubling you.
We're on the wrong line.
Yes, and you've been troubling me too.
We're two of a kind.
This train's in trouble,
But where's the caboose?
It fell off in Jonestown.
Otto cut it loose.
And Fred's in the gearbox (gearbox)
Cutting the wires (wires)
Putting cars on the track
With no air in their tires.
:double chorus:
(Hornbuckle/George Mostoller)
I used to think I'd like to be a Marxist,
But I wasn't fit to join the working class.
Then I thought I'd like to be a dope fiend,
And I spent all of my money smoking grass.
Then I thought I'd like to be a Buddhist,
But I couldn't sit still for that long.
Then I thought I'd be a sadomasochist,
But when I thought about it, pain is wrong.
I knew I'd have to get on back to basics
And figure out something that was real.
I thought I'd have to think up my own language.
Just to express the way I feel.
Semantics, semantics.
Making lots of noise and acting dumb.
Semantics, semantics.
Blue is banging on the drum.
Semantics, semantics.
Looking for the reference* that I dropped.
Semantics, semantics.
Court jesters in the kingdom of idiot rock.
* this lyric officially 'in dispute' -- can you make
out what we said on the mp3? It was 11 years ago, for fuckssake!
My baby bought me a motor scooter
And I rode it all around the neighborhood
My baby ain't got big hooters
That's understood
That's understood
That's understood
My baby ain't got big hooters
Ooh, and that's understood
My baby bought a brand new guitar
'Tweren't no metal guitar; it was made out of wood
My baby- she ain't left me so far
That's understood
That's understood
That's understood
My baby- she ain't left me so far
Ooh, and that's understood
My baby broke all my records
She'd break my neck if she could
My baby- she's a tax collector
That's understood
That's understood
That's understood
My baby- she's a tax collector
Ooh, and that's understood
My baby did all our taxes
She knows I'd add them if I could
We don't have no itemized deductions
That's understood
That's understood
That's understood
We don't have no itemized deductions
Ooh, and that's understood
:Chorus:
And when you look into his eyes,
You realize what it was you were going to say.
Hugh the
Emu
sleeps with his eyes open,
Walks with a cane.
He has a tiny brain.
Hugh the Emu speaks with a fake (fill in the blank) accent,
"I'm doing what I can, yes I'm doing what I can."
Hugh
sleeps in the garbage can
Flirting with the milkman
Early in the morning.
Hugh never reads the front page;
He only reads the
comics.
He likes
Peanuts.
chorus
I don't mind seeing you sometimes.
We'll sing songs & stand around & wait to
die.
Still that phone keeps ringing
& I don't know who it's for.
:Chorus:
You can take your ten percent.
It's not enough to pay the rent.
Am I supposed to kiss your
ass
& volunteer a stained glass window?
You didn't say so.
I can't stand to waste all this time.
We'll eat bread & drink non-alcoholic
wine.
& you can't deliver a simple miracle
Without making me feel lost.
chorus
You keep calling me looking for someone
Who doesn't live here anymore.
Oh, her voice was like a . . . oh, never mind.
I'm sitting on the edge of the
abysmal
parkbench
Ordering the chaos in my
mind.
Are you waiting for someone?
Do you mind if I sit here?
Do you think, do you cry, do you ever wonder
If being alone is a common fear?
Oh, her face was like a ... oh, never mind.
I'm sitting on the edge of the
abysmal
parkbench
Ordering the chaos in my mind.
Did you lose someone?
Did you lose a contact?
Did you say, did you say, did you say
Did you say you may have had enough?
Oh, her voice was like mine, oh no!
I'm sitting on the edge
of the
abysmal
parkbench
Afraid to stand up now and go.
Stand up now and go!
Daisy,
Daisy -
give me your answer, do.
I'm half
crazy
all for the love of you.
As I open the door to ectasy, I see the scent of immortality rise.
Hair of twine falls out in my hands, and life
crawls
out of her eyes.
Beauty of ages encompasses our bed which creaks and cries.
Flesh touches bone in consummation of a
marriage made in heaven.
Daisy,
Daisy -
give me your answer, do.
I'm half crazy all for the
love of you.
:Chorus:
Snowbird, snowbird.
That's a big part of your life
When that old cold weather comes
And you get out.
He knows that year
After year he'll have
Another bumper sticker
Another pair of Mickey Mouse ears.
When his eyes turn toward the sun
He's elated.
Though his face is turning red,
His heart's inflated.
chorus
Steal softly through the sunlight
Steal softly through the snow
chorus
(alternately)
Someday, someday, someday, someday
Will be my
day of rest.
I'm talking to the trees
& looking like a cool August breeze.
There is no
Spring
in my disease
Or no world as far as I can see.
I'll be your swan
if you will be my
Leda.
You can eat
my words
if there's nothing else to feed ya.
When I'm sad, I write the songs.
I'll write the
manifesto
to your revolution dream.
I'll be the
pesto in your
pizza
supreme.
I might call you Bubbles
'til it makes you scream.
I'll suck the nectar from your nectarine,
baby.
I'm a candle short of wick.
I'll always find a way to talk about my
.
But right now, I'm drunk
& I am broke.
There is no
punch line when I tell a joke.
I'll bet on a horse only if he is
Trojan.
& I'll jump naked in the December ocean.
When I'm sad -- Lord, when I feel bad,
I write the songs.
:Chorus:
It's all the same to me,
'Cos anyway,
we're all going to die
In Manchester.
I want to cry for Manchester.
Manchester makes me want to cry.
I know you're brutal when you're bored.
I know you're a silly whore.
If you ever look into the mirror,
And you
see
yourself on fire,
It's all the same to me.
chorus
I want to kill myself
in Manchester.
But before I go and
die
I want to listen to the sounds
Of people living
underground.
And if you've never picked up a guitar before,
And if you only know two chords,
It's all the same to me.
You might say that I'm just looking for
company.
You might say that I'm just
looking for a
friend.
You might disagree or you might comfort me,
but
then again...
Give it up for the
percussionist
(la la la la la)
Give it up for
Jesus.
Give it up for the
percussionist
(la la la la la)
Give it up,
give it up.
You might say that I'm just looking for Andrew.
You might say that I'm just looking for Ken
(or Mrs.
Robinson).
You might disagree with my point of view, but then again...
Give it up for the
percussionist
(la la la la la)
Give it up for
Krishna.
Give it up for the
percussionist
(la la la la la)
Give it up,
give it up.
(earnest sax solo)
Give it up for the
percussionist
(la la la la la)
Give it up for
Buddha.
Give it up for the
percussionist
(la la la la la)
Give it up,
give it up.
Give it up for the
percussionist
(la la la la la)
Give it up for Jesus (PopCanon does not endorse Jesus
Christ.).
Give it up for the
percussionist
(la la la la la)
Give it up,
give it
up.
Give it up for the
percussionist
(la la la la la)
Give it up for satan.
Give it up for the
percussionist
(la la la la la)
Give it up,
give it
up.
When you go to the big city music hall
And you pay your twenty dollars to get in
You give it up for
Andrew,
and you give it up for
Ken.
Give it up, give it up now.
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Oh, yeah.
All songs written and performed by the Semantics,
later known as PopCanon, except where noted.
All songs copyright © 1995-2000 PopCanon.
Give It Up For The Percussionist
recorded 1999 and produced by Mike Rotolante & PopCanon.
Do You? and Train's
In Trouble recorded 2000 and produced by Mike Rotolante & PopCanon
at Wayne INdustries, Gainesville FL.
Last modified: Wed 10 Apr 2002 14:58:45
EST
