1. |
Ataraxia
04:58
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I moved out to where the streets are steep
And the housing prices, even steeper
Wilted flowers in my hair
I spent my nights sleeping rough with the addicts on Mission Street
All I had was the manuscript, returned to me unopened
Pixels have replaced atoms as the building blocks of life
We put the “mess” in Mesopotamia
Nature abhors a vacuum cleaner salesman
We make love between Excel spreadsheets
Longing for the touch of linen
In a literal garden
Randroids spoke
Of electric cars and tax havens on Mars
Bloody grapes hung from the vine
Epicures drank Cali wine
They weren’t epicurean at all
They were afraid to fade into obscurity, unlike me
What’s on the other side of the garden gates?
Don’t tell me there’s white picket fences enclosing the yards
Like cages of ribs
Don’t tell me there’s a tax on ataraxia
Reason alone can’t cleanse me of my dread
There’s no need for morality if your humanity isn’t dead
We make love between Excel spreadsheets
Longing for the touch of linen
Of the twill weave
Of Lilith before Eve
The frontal cortex, the Fall of Man
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2. |
Holier Than Thou
05:01
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3. |
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Permit me to return
To where the golden-haired, angel-headed hipster hills tumble into the sea
To where the phantom houseboat bobs drunkenly
I’ll grab a burger at Nepenthe
And hop on the transit
I’m going back to Monterey Bay
You know, I got my start out there
I was a crooked, flaming arrow, didn’t know about SEO
Only sand dollars in my wallet
I was the sadist in Steinbeck
The mean drunk in Hendrix
I did whippits when I tripped
All I wanted was to be a musician
But now I’m lost in the shuffle
Minting an NFT
Hoping web 3 will rescue me
Paying playlisters to feature me
Making a reel, feeling unreal
Why am I reeling?
Behavioral science
In the hands of tech giants
A gun in the hands of a child
All I wanted was to be a musician
Not to compete for divided attention
I ain’t autotuned or silver-spooned
I’m going back to Monterey Bay
From Leonin to Lennon
I can't be heard above the din
From Hildegard of Bingen to Billie Eilish
I can't be heard above the din
From the Guidonian hand to Bad Finger
From Sha Na Na to Ed Sheeran
From Art Tatum to Arto Lindsay
Where do I fit in? The deadliest of sins?
From Seneca the Younger to Antonio Damasio
Where do I begin?
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4. |
Velveteen
04:50
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You never deserved this
This fever dream
You were just here with me, you were just
In your favorite purple jacket, velveteen
Little dove, little dove
Just as I’d ceased counting down to zero
You walked out of time
Helpless dove, restless love
Death knocks four times like a cop, hard and fast
The peace couldn’t last
If each passing moment was a slant rhyme
The final word was “mine”
The heart of the matter
I swear it beats, it better
Little dove, little dove
Tailgated on the road to Damascus
You took on the sun
Wingless dove, selfless love
You were enticed by the light from above
The toes of a giant
You tickled with your feather
Little dove
I’ll gather up your to-do lists
I’ll put your bullets in my head (I’ll let the bullets pierce my skin)
Your favorite purple jacket
Became your funeral shroud
Velveteen
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5. |
Ashtray Moon
03:15
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Ashtray moon
Silver smoke
Street lamps burn
Like cigarettes
Turn the key
Use the loo
Jellyfish
Tentacle
We spin discs
And spiderwebs
We sleep on tiny
Mushroom beds
Pixy Stix
Dragon scales
Tao Te Ching
Mad Magazine
Salami
Nursery rhyme
The sugar in your blood
The depression that you hide
Break the bread
Taste the guilt
Toss a coin
Wishing well
We’ll live in a treehouse ‘til we die
One little fire at a time
When the game doesn’t save
When you shun a brand new day
When the calm doesn’t stay
When the blue sky turns gray
When your mind is led astray
When your mind is led astray
And I love you today
Is all that you can say
We are all migrants
Seeking passage
Across the border
Between life and death
Remember the riverwalk
Forget the Alamo
One little fire at a time
‘Til we die
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6. |
Robinson Jeffers’ Corpse
07:16
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In the gloom of June
Amid a plankton bloom
I shipwrecked on purple sand
I was a wayfaring stranger, a Burl Ives wannabe
I couldn’t find the Point Sur light
There was no up or down
Just the pull of gravity
I stumbled along Highway One
Waterfalls spilled through canyons
I saw the face of the Creator
As the Earth intended it to look
The Pacific beckoned me to swim
I can’t unsee what I saw
I can’t unsee it
Tormented by nightmares of aluminum ferrules
I came upon a wake of vultures
Pecking at Robinson Jeffers’ corpse
They hissed, “Give up, you Kerouac-off. No more romance can be wrung from the smoke of a train.”
Dissipating like the cliff-clinging fog
I continued on
Past the Henry Miller Library
Through summer rains and chilly nights
Through the meadows of poison oak
Through the vaults of Erowid
I met a hipster in a hot tub
At the Esalen Institute
I asked him, “How many times must I ask for forgiveness before I’m convinced I deserve it?”
He said, “Shame is just a human invention. It has no basis in reality.”
I couldn’t tell whether he preached of Gaia or guy-stuff
Still, he showed me the light I’d been searching for
At sunrise, trees emerged from a tangle of silhouettes
The Pacific beckoned me to swim
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7. |
The Living Masquerade
04:29
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It’s Tuesday again
I meet the doctor in the square
I hardly recognize her
Without her shiny leather boots
Red hat, black cape, long beak
We creep along the alley
To a secret room behind a bookcase
The carnival’s begun
Psychodrama
String of pearls
Through a mist of rose water perfume
The buffoon welcomes us
To the living masquerade
A poorly disguised, two-faced peasant
Steals our identities
And sells them to the King
Devil horns
Gold-leaf trim
And we sink into canals of blackening ink
Our wrists bound with ribbon
Our pockets full of cash
Infinity filtered through a pinhole
The unmasked world is unworthy of my soul
Infinity filtered through a pinhole
My persona shattered like a crystal
Psychodrama
String of pearls
To deem a flower beautiful
To deem a belief your own
The self-same spirit guides you
And they say you have poor taste
I assure you–I’ve seen the lilies
Pressed between the pages of your Holy Book
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8. |
Shot Down In Comfort
03:12
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Dear Jack
Last I’d heard, you were doing alright
Living in your house of empty rooms
The more times I go through this, the less I’m sure what I’m supposed to do
You always told us what we wanted to hear
But you were shot down in comfort
You were like a bald cypress tree
You got too thirsty
Along the banks
Of a trickling stream
A different verse of the same old song
Dear Jack
You shoulda taken my advice
Don’t judge the ones you serve
You coulda made the world a better place with balloon animals or bridal bouquets
You gotta do something or you’ll wither away
But you were shot down in comfort
You were like a bald cypress tree
You got too thirsty
Along the banks
Of a trickling stream
A different verse of the same damn song
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9. |
Making Music on a Screen
03:36
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10. |
Gimme Friction
04:19
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My fist insists
On punching the stereo knob
To relieve the social tension
Weighing the options
Turned on like a TV set
It’s the illusion of choice, like voting on the Voice
So many channels, but no release
Remote control freaks
Gimme friction
Between my impulse and my purchase
Gimme friction
To the corporate State, our souls are expendable
Inner exultation is the final rebellion
We thought it’d be so easy
Like a walk in Zuccotti Park
Chopping down the cherry tree
Chopping down the Bodhi Tree
Show me how to be a joyful subversive
The emerald light that caught my eye was just a vacant bathroom sign
Gimme friction
Staring at my feed, staring down the barrel of a gun
To the corporate State, our souls are expendable
Inner exultation is the final rebellion
To love can’t be learned from a moving image
The body can’t wait, it aches
To touch the raw nirvana
In three-dimensional space
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11. |
The Sad Chanteuse
02:50
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At the coffeehouse
We hear the sad chanteuse
Her crocodile tears wet the soil
Where wicked manifestos grow
Propaganda lurks beneath her tongue
From the wires to the weeds
Unsanctioned melodies
Confined minds set free
We hear the sad chanteuse
Long after we’re gone
Her slogans will live on
The look in her eyes gives you the sense
That you’re the one performing on a stage
Unsanctioned melodies
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