1. |
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Loving the dirty things you do,
Loving your cleanliness of truth,
Hating the way I always dote,
Sending you all those folded notes.
Tell me why I act so childish when you're near,
Telling you what you want to hear,
Loving your mom `cos you love mine,
Loving you `til the end of time
And that's such a long way to go!
And corazón, why do you flutter?
Stupid mouth, why must you sputter?
Stop my gob from yammering,
The pain inside is hammering a thousand nails
Into my gut, but I'll stay blissful in this rut you put me in, you cutie pie! Cross my heart and -
You say you're fucked and incomplete,
But that's what I find so very sweet.
Liking the way you take no prisoner,
Shutting the door on all your visitors and only allowing me to come around.
And when love cometh to annex,
I'll raise high my snowy flag.
Loving you `til I lose my mind,
Loving you `til the day I die.
Corazón, know who you beat for,
This picture of love competes for none other in my museum. Your other suitors? Let me see `em!
Show me that they're worth your love,
From molten core to star above!
They could never prove themselves to you!
Loving the way you wear your hair,
Loving the way you take a dare,
You'll be the sweetness on my tongue,
You'll be the bearer of our young.
You'll be the one showing me the ropes,
Harvesting all my happy hopes.
Loving you `til I'm deaf and blind,
Loving you `til the day I die, and even beyond that.
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2. |
Freckle Face
03:54
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The freckles on your face, the warmth of your neck,
As I hold your head in my lap,
I wonder what truly goes on in there.
Your not-so-perfect teeth seem flawless when you speak or when I make you laugh - ha ha.
I can't believe your kooky moony smile, and your pointy little nose that scrunches when I say that I'll make an effort to love you everyday.
Oops! Did I wake you up? Oh, cute! You were drifting off to the land of slumber. Now it's my turn to rest my head on you - you look good from every angle.
Your heart's a drum solo,
Your breasts are goose-down pillows,
Your skin, pale as the Joker's shade - ha ha.
Let's stay here and waste our OSAP-funded time and bask in the fact that I stick to you like glue.
You've got me so wound up I don't know what to do.
Oh, look over me. I'll look down on you.
I'll do more to you, freckle face. Little freckle face.
But I could never say!
You will never know I love your eyes, green like the sky! Skin is blue like grass, and lass, you look so bored, but feel so grand - but look so bored, so when I die please interlock and squeeze my hand.
And when the bell hath rung and you fly the coop,
I'll bask in the fact that you stuck to me like glue,
And I'll write you poetry and funny little letters
(But I'll never send them!)
Thinking of your freckly face and freckly little shoulders.
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3. |
Ozma Redux
03:11
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With a flick of the switch, we juice the quasars.
Are we looking for gods? For astral allies?
If there's something out there, will it take too long for us to hear their song?
Hundreds of light years in the making, so they say, but I say GO! Make it so! Make it so, turn the dial send the message that we're waiting.
I'm sick of the debating.
Translating, calculating, the silence so frustrating, and I won't rest until I'm satisfied.
And if they exist, what will they look like?
Are they beams of light? Are they anthropomorphic?
Are they civilized and clean, or are they just under-evolved paramecium, or perhaps they are indeed advanced and listening to our thoughts.
Well! I wager they're keeping tabs on us then!
Silly primates, a warring, fussy ant-farm.
Emotional artists and souped-up gladiators.
The kings and the beggars, the sex and the danger,
The cast is astounding!
Just think about the ratings: Intergalactic Neilsen scoring.
Mark that down! Is this sequence saying something?
Prime numbers in my head, radio static won't leave me alone.
Coffee at my desk, still passing out for what could be naps, but I'm still not refreshed.
Maybe I should take a bloody weekend, but I say no!
Make it so! Make it so, please your colleagues, wrong the cynics and the zealots who think that the majority of this infinite wonderworld is barren all around us, excluding this blue marble.
Well, I think that's atrocious!
We just have to look harder.
There are stars and there are planets with such exponential options and we just might find out something if we stay here by the radio.
So I pray from the bottom of my ever-beating, breaking heart: I ask you, Dr. Sagan, look down on me so I can confirm that YES - we aren't alone in this great void.
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4. |
Keen Specimen
03:55
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Baby, is this real or is this delusion?
Either way, I need to know.
I don't need all this confusion.
Do we carry on or do we just stay pals?
Now's the time to cross the line.
There's no turning back.
`Cos you're a keen specimen and you seem keen on me, so I vote that we move forward.
So take my hand and look in my eyes and make that decision with me tonight.
Baby, let's get married in a tent down by the beach.
We'll call up your friend, the Justice of the Peace, and invite whomever we want.
Baby, our hair's gone all gray and we're not what we used to be, but if you stay on that front porch with me and speak of the decades that both of us shared, and up until our very last breath, we'll live it for each other.
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5. |
Municipal Pride
04:50
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County fair crowns the queen of methamphetamines!
Middle-Eastern man kicked and told to go back to a place he had never even visited.
Meet me at the bus-depot trying to score some medicine, then find me at the roughneck bar trying to get some action.
Damn cold town.
Slipping down the splintery ladder, knocking up that kid you used to babysit.
Scream at shout at daughter's daddy down at the East End Laundromat.
Dark, lonely mornings, fear all-encompassing.
Climb into their pickup truck, go queer hunting with them.
Damn cold town.
Let's put our heads together.
Bake me a key-cake, plot my escape.
Let's put our heads together.
We've gotta find a way to make it out of here.
Broken homes, mangled English, rampant xenophobia.
Elevated but unfounded sense of entitlement.
Work eleven hours to get shit-faced Saturday and then wake up the next morning, get dressed up to speak in tongues.
Damn cold town.
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6. |
RSVP
04:17
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Juvenile games so close to the chest,
My paper-thin shell reveals my core's unrest.
Crush my hurt, hurt my crush, crush the tiny insecurities as I walk up to you and let you know.
I've laid it on the line, honest and direct for you to see.
Take your time, I'm awaiting your reply.
I hear the violin concerto in your voice,
I watch the sunrise through your lady-like poise.
Hush my rhymes, quit my tones before I say too much, but I gotta give the news straight to you (and here's the live feed).
You may not like it, you may be flattered, you may be inspired, but honey I just should've kept my mouth shut. But I think about you all the time.
But this is the friendship I want it to be!
Woman, I'm there for you and you're always there for me.
Such a joy, what a blast!
Much obliged to your camaraderie, but my heart bangs like thunder when you're near.
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