1. |
Rabbit Holes
05:29
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Rabbit Holes
We forgot the teachings, we lost the artifacts,
But we discovered science, the art of facts,
Ain’t nothing we can’t measure, we’ll know it all someday:
How far it is to heaven, how much does one soul weigh?
But the closer that you look the less it all makes sense
All those particles and waves sittin’ on the fence
And every time you try to find which one is which for sure
They wink at you, trade places, and slip on out the door
Don’t matter how far down you dig
Can’t find no solid ground
It’s rabbit holes and turtles, all the way down
It’s Cheshire cats and vampire bats
And the eerie silent song
Everything’s been singing,
Everything’s been singing
Everything’s been singing all along
But hey, who listens to the background music anyways?
Ain’t we way too busy planning out our busy days?
Days that always end up shy of what you think you’ve got
Left to try to untie your tangled knot.
The closer that you look, the less it all makes sense
It’s all so full of empty but it all looks so dense
Each time you cut a thinner slice from the mystery of life
You’re gonna have to find a little sharper knife
Don’t matter how far down you dig
Can’t find no solid ground
It’s rabbit holes and turtles, all the way down
It’s Cheshire cats and vampire bats
The eerie silent song
Everything’s been singing,
Everything’s been singing
Everything’s been singing
c Phillip Rosenberg
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2. |
Smokey Joe's
04:23
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SMOKEY JOE’S
It’s 4am on sunset the traffic’s movin’ slow,
The purple neon flashes: “Come on in, we never close.”
Outside, the line is forming, the wannabees all flirt
They buzz around the doorman, liftin’ up their skirts
Inside the royalty reclines In the afterglow
The congregation’s gatherin’ downstairs at Smokey Joe’s
There’s Mr. Clark and Johnny and everyone can tell
Those smiles that they’re wearin’ are illegal as hell
They’re slicing red tomatoes, the home grown variety
And laughin’ like those good ol’ boys can laugh in Tennessee
And guy, he’s drinkin’ whiskey, a single malt, you know,
The kind you can’t find anywhere ‘cept down at Smokey Joe’s
Bobby’s quite the joker, you cannot pin him down
Between those devil’s horns he sports a dark and thorny crown
He whispers to Johanna "Let’s get out while we can
Before they turn us all into statues made of sand
Yeah come on, lets go fishin’ I brought my line and pole
There’s always something bitin’ downstairs at Smokey Joe’s."
Lenny’s old ‘n horny and in his holy way
Perfectly imperfect he removes his clothes to pray
And everybody’s bowin' to gods unseen again
For every drop of golden ink that passed down through their pens
Yeah, thanks for "What’s it to ya" and “Everybody Knows”
They’re singing “Hallelujah” downstairs at Smokey Joe’s
Tom parks his ol’ ’55, slips on his hat and coat
He takes another swig o’ wine, he takes another toke
There’s paparazzi everywhere, but Tom walks in unseen
They’re busy interviewing the home comin’ queen
Well, her lips are fat as oysters but the doorman, he says “No
That ain’t the look they’re lookin’ for downstairs at Smokey Joe’s."
I know its unappealing to see me on my knees
Beggin' like an orphan “Just a crumb, sir, if you please”
But who else can I turn to in my hour of need
To save me from the oblivion of mediocrity
Now, who are you to criticize? I saw you with your soul
Whisperin’ to the devil out behind Smokey Joe’s.
© Phillip Rosenberg
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3. |
Windy Day
04:31
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Windy Day
Just when i got my arms around it,
I lost my grip and let it fall
Just when I thought I’d finally found it
I found it wasn’t what i wanted after all
I thought I had it so together
Watched it all blow away
Seems a man can spend forever
Sweeping leaves on a windy day
You know I try to keep my chin up
I try to look on the brighter side
Go out and buy another trinket
Like another trinket might satisfy
I thought i held you close enough
But i let you slip away
Trying to keep a hold on love
Is sweeping leaves on a windy day.
I watch the world going crazy
Watch it spinning out of control
Watch my friends trying to change things
Well, trying to change things can take it’s toll.
Man, we fought that revolution,
Maybe these chains are here to stay
Left me broken, disillusioned
Sweeping leaves
sweeping leaves on a windy day
c Phillip Rosenberg
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