New Direction

The opening cut of this EP was written way back in 1978. Rohlfie was in his 1st pair of adult shoes, playing bass in a couple garage bands… one heavy metal… and one classic rock (AOR format). Basically, stuff you’d hear on urban FM radio stations. However, being part of a “fleshy juke-box” was never in Rohlfie’s master plan, even though he knew it was important to get familiar with the techniques and “literature” of work beloved by the listeners he wished to reach someday.

He grinned and sang “the hits” with requisite abandon.

Anyhoo… while playing in the classic-rock fleshy juke-box… a little outfit called “Sweet Freedom”… lol … he penned this guttural primal scream and persuaded the band to add it to the setlist.

Teen angst… gotta love it…
Enjoy the sweet freedom… :-p

I used to dwell on all the complications…
But now they just don’t stop me any more.

Waistin’ my time… with a noodle for a spine…
And i just couldn’t take it anymore.

So i went to think about a new direction…
And in the course of my searchin’ i did find…
That the writing on the wall was a mess of a scrawl…
And i just couldn’t stand it any more.

Lord it’s true i’ll have to claw my way out!

Well… i made it… i found my new direction…
Feelin’ better… much better every day.
Not afraid to take a stand…
I ain’t worried about no plans…
Cos the end’s gonna reconcile itself…

Oh YEA YEA YEA…

When i close my eyes i see a better world…
And it don’t seem so far to reach…. no no no no…
From the bottom of the pit it’s a long way to climb…
And the key to the top is in my hands… in my hands…

In MY OWN bloody hands!

Spotify link… HERE

Umbrellas in the Sun

Come dancin’ in…
To a field of umbrellas…
Where all is sweet and everyone smiles.

Come for a while…
Send your troubles to tarry…
Where those far behind, move up the line.

Come with a song…
And a warm wistful heart…
And call on a friend, to be for a while.

Come as you are…
For a week or a lifetime…
Now to the sunset, drink it all in.

Don’t cry…
Umbrellas in the sun…
Save us from the light

Don’t cry…
There’s room for everyone…
Hiding away from the giver of life

Don’t cry…
Umbrellas in the sun…
Save us from the light

Don’t cry…
Room for everyone…
Hiding away from the giver of life
Hiding away from the giver of life

Hiding away from…
………………..the giver…

Bitterkiss

When you’re close enough to burn…
Open hearts can always learn…
Deep inside the gut returns to take the reins.

Flights of love… rubies and chains…
Volumes and scrolls cannot explain…
Why the fire behind her eyes has gotta fade.

But when she dreams… nothing can stop her…
She commands a starship cruiser…
And the shroud falls when morning comes…
And she prays…

BitterKiss…
Oh yeeaaah…
One more for the road.

And the river flows… and so it goes…
Can’t stop the wheel… she knows…
Like a misty crooked smile behind the pain.
Let ‘em spin… let ‘em growl…
Pack your bag… get outta town.
Not a speck of sound of sermons on the plain.

But when she dreams… nothing can stop her…
She commands the starship cruiser…
And a shroud falls when morning comes…
And she prays…

BitterKiss…
Oh yeeaaah…
One more for the road.

Joy… all she’s ever wanted…
Then she turns her tiller south.
Bliss… one thing she won’t live without…
It BURNS all the way down.

BitterKiss… oh yeeaaah… one more…
BitterKiss… oh yeeaaah… just one more…
BitterKiss… oh yeeaaah… one more for the road…

One more for the road…
…one more for the road.

Geisterfahrer

    
Mary Sanchez… fell in love
Time with her Romeo was never enough
Headin’ southbound Santa Fe…
Makin’ plans for their big day
In a red Ford sedan on a sunny Saturday
Off into the early morn…
Waved goodbye with a kiss
For a beauty salon on the south side
of her bliss

And you who carry the world…
without an alibi
Turn away from the river of tears…
There’s so much pressure on you
Too much to do… ain’t no time…

Jimmy James Fitch… came unhinged…
Playa’ livin’ large drove a jet black ‘Cedes Benz
Fell on hard times… conditions so unkind
Lost direction… lost perception…
and finally lost his mind…
Turned his Benz into Santa Fe…
Headin’ north on a southbound lane
with the pedal to the metal…
determination on his face

And you who carry the world…
without an alibi
Turn away from the river of tears…
There’s so much pressure on you
Too much to do… ain’t no time…

Mary’s Romeo got the call
Found Jimmy James Fitch…
Found Mary… saw it all
Saw the red Ford sedan…
The black Mercedes Benz
Tangled up in a blacktop bed…
of shattered diamonds

And you who carry the world
without an alibi
Dive deep into the river of tears…
And meander to the ocean…
There’s nothin’ but time now…

Time
Time
Time

Tomorrow

I see you made up your mind…
Changes dead ahead…
Given everything they said…
Wouldn’t blame you if you left…
No rebuke for indiscretion…
Lord knows… you paid your toll…
For my part i never held you back…
Bought a ticket to your show.

Who knows why…
We play the game we play…?
Sometimes the sorrow…
Complicates our days… but…
I’d buy… any worldly fantasy…
I’d mount any hard-drive of trouble…
Just to see… you… tomorrow.

I don’t doubt your dedication…
Or question your resolve…
Beaten bloody by the side of the road…
Round and round… the world evolves…
All the while the sea has parted…
Hurry through the muck…
Reach the other side of hope…
Never counting on your luck.

Who knows why…
We play the game we play…?
Sometimes the sorrow…
Complicates our days… but…
I’d buy… any worldly fantasy…
I’d mount any hard-drive of trouble…
Just to see… you… tomorrow.

Don’t forget…
I’m right there behind you…
And i see the things you’re going through…
I would mount any hard drive of trouble…
…and release my bitter fantasy…
Just to be…..

Coolest Place

 

Misfit in the country… rebel in a deep red sea… sometimes i wonder where we get the outrage energy. Ride the bucking trends… we’re all neighbors and friends… and revel in the human company.

And the coolest place in the world is all i see. Bill Gates and Lady Ga Got nothing on me. I don’t need to work in Hollywood or Nashville Tennessee… i don’t need no Botox… corn row plugs or plastic surgery. I got everything i need and it’s right in front of me.

The coolest place in the world is all i see.

Misfit on the metro… it moves too fast for me… and hard to find kindness in a cold gray concrete sea. But i can play this guitar… and boost this energy… the city on the hill’s luminosity.

And the coolest place in the world will follow me… it’s my urban cowboy philosophy. I don’t mind tilting windmills… strange possibilities… i don’t need proud illusions to boost my self esteem… everything’s in play… what will be will surely be.

The coolest place in the world will follow me.

Misfit in the church… UP the academy. Miracles and myths… inexplicabilities. I don’t need consistent… existential certainties… but every day’s a GIFT… can’t you see?

And the coolest place in the world is where i’ll be. LOVE will win the day… just wait and see. I don’t fear creation… or the void of infinity… i don’t need to cling to memes or things… it’s ALL illusory. I AM the multiverse… the multiverse is me.

The coolest place in the world is all i see…
The coolest place in the world will follow me…
The coolest place in the world is where i’ll be.

Spotify link… HERE

 

Beautiful Angry Noise

A day… a lifetime ago, i expressed an unkind general sentiment concerning monotheistic political activists in the presence of my children. My words were harsh… insensitive… but not altogether inaccurate. Not sure why the filter failed at that moment, but i decided to try and explain. Starting with this low, omnipresent, internal rumbling in my head… it plays counterpoint to tinnitus accumulated over the years. This rumbling, i have grown to regard as… a “Beautiful Angry Noise.” And on this occasion i let it out, unfiltered. Now i feel compelled to explain, and maybe in the process exorcise some radioactive trepidation felt in the run-up to the 2020 general election.

Where to start?

Ok… from objective observable phenomenon, it seems obvious, to me anyway, that humans can be junction points in a massive interdependent superorganism, greatly enhanced by the global Internet. Unfortunately, this view is not palatable to those inclined to monotheistic creeds, and i believe monotheistic-inclined political activists stand in opposition to the interests of this Earthbound (for now) superorganism. Their anti-science/intellectualism inexplicably damages, and perhaps even hastens humanity’s extinction, and this essential incompatibility between us is, i believe, partially responsible for the gaping political divide in the US and beyond. This essential incompatibility accounts for occasional “anger” prominent in the noise i live with… day in… day out.

The abovementioned Beautiful Angry Noise underscores my personal opposition to the counter-adaptive worldview of monotheistic political activists, but it’s not directed at any particular individual… more toward a xenophobic monoculture, featuring a misguided sense of any individual’s importance. This humming, omnipresent noise is a perfect harmony with my opposition to that xenophobic ethno-nationalist monoculture. A movement that is leading normally stable governments toward authoritarian backsliding… desperate grasps for uncontested supremacy. At the same time, there are opposing movements. Take, for example, Islamic culture’s push and pull with gender politics. As well, take any random puritanical religious fundamentalist struggle with LGTBQ acceptance.

Contrary fringe movements create chaos in sane gaps where people just want to find ways to do right by their loved ones and friends; to be good stewards of the planet; and to survive what amounts to humanity’s “technological adolescence.” If i have to be more specific, i would say the Islamic World’s “Jihad (struggle)” with modernity should be none of my business. Unfortunately, to make it so, my tax dollars should stop funding efforts to keep local populations in non-western oil-rich regions down. When will this fine day arrive? I can name names here though, and I’ll start with any and all family, friends, or neighbors who supported Ronald Reagan or Donald Trump to the office of POTUS. To them… i say… just… stop. Please just stop. I imagine many of these supporters would gladly confess to being monotheistic political activists… or card-carrying “Apocalyptic Christian Nationalists (ACNs).

But so what? Why would i call out ACNs? Well… it so happens i was once a member, ready for the “days of trouble.” Ready to ascend to Heaven… called by my triune lord and savior, Jesus Christ, Father God, and the Holy Spirit. As a card-carrying ACN, i was convinced that Earth, and everything on it was destined to burn in a “final confrontation” between the forces of good and evil. EVERYTHING burned to the ground, accompanied by the blood-red topping of unspeakable war carnage. But hey… NO WORRIES… according to the creator of the universe… the forces of good are destined to prevail, and the planet will be returned to its original pristine “Edenic” state. All will be right again… with evil purged… milk… honey… and nourishing manna from heaven restored for all eternity.

You see where this is going, right? ACNs aren’t concerned with effects of human activity on the global superorganism (don’t need stinking climate scientists), because… after the final smack-down between good and evil… everything will be restored to Edenic perfection.

So… now we have to find our backbone… because ACNs think they have Donald Trump in their pocket… and THEY DO… because his power 100% depends on the ACN belief that he will ALWAYS act in their interest. It’s no secret they believe Trump is literally an instrument of their triune deity.

Seriously… this is our moment of truth. Do we let Mr. Trump and ACNs burn the world to the ground with superstitious fantasies of good/evil escalating to a global scorched-Earth conflagration…? Or do we return to secular governance with religion and politics conducted in separate cathedrals?

I know where i stand… and i confess getting a bit overzealous in my private conversations… hence this inadequate attempt to explain. Nevertheless, i will continue to channel the Beautiful Angry Noise… but at the same time, i want to reaffirm support of constitutionally guaranteed religious freedom. And finally… with all of that said, can we, PLEASE, also honor our responsibilities? In a world of diverse experience and worldview, we know that freedom is NOT unlimited. Specifically, personal or institutional religious freedom is not equal to that entity’s liberty to cram it down anyone else’s throat. Satanists, Zoroastrians, Stalinists, Muslims, Hindus, Scientologists, Mormons, as well as Evangelical Christians, etc. are free to keep their personal spiritual practice within the privacy of their own homes/cathedrals. If they’ll agree to do that… i will agree to engage our practical differences in the open forum of Democratic Pluralism.

Long live the Beautiful American Stew…!
Long live the separation of Church and State…!
Long live the Beautiful Angry Noise!

What is a “resource based economy?”
How can we survive Humanity’s “Technological Adolescence?”

Bee In Her Bonnet

Abandon your solemn post… point your crooked fingers east. See the morph respect => contempt… feeding lives to the beast. And corporations rule… turning fear into gold. Atrocity becomes the norm then we realize we’ve been sold.

Questions after profit!
Questions after profit!
Questions after profit again!

She’s got a bee in her bonnet… a dose of apocalypse… a bee in her bonnet again.

She don’t see the dance… the multi-faced political game… jingo propaganda always cuts in many ways. A Satan great… an evildoer all depends on where you stand. It’s a path… a destination… cooler heads must command.

Sing the gospel truth!
Sing the gospel truth!
Sing the gospel truth again!

She’s got a bee in her bonnet… a dose of apocalypse… a bee in her bonnet again.

And yes… they hate… but not abstractions. They hate people mindin’ their business… keepin’ them down… and killin’ their kids!

She’s got no patience for other… riders on her commute… the slow… the lost… the sick… the old… or just takin’ in the view. Humility and common sense out the window when she drives… angry aggression… she won’t wait… she’s just tryin’ to survive.

Not enough time!
Not enough time!
Not enough time again!

She’s got a bee in her bonnet… a dose of apocalypse… a bee in her bonnet again.

Neon

 

Crisp… winter morning coffee warm in my cup when i first read the letter from my best friend’s hand today.

It’s a holiday card… with a message to you and me… sit down honey… your mommy’s comin’ home.

She said… “I need you to need me… i want you to want me. I pray that you’ll learn to count on me. And i’ll cast my bones on neon for the last time tonight. I’m comin’ home… it’s you that saved my life.”

Well… i know she’s made mistakes… but she left you for me to raise… i’ll always think of you as my own child deep down inside. And now she’s comin’ home… gonna dance with the methadone… i’d always hoped this day would finally come.

She said… “I need you to need me… i want you to want me. I pray that you’ll learn to count on me. And i’ll cast my bones on neon for the last time tonight. I’m comin’ home… it’s you that saved my life.”

Nobody lives in a vacuum… even the island needs a sea. Everyone needs raison d’etre… and for her… it’s down to you and me.

Well… the snow is falling down on the busy sidewalks of our town… your mom won’t go out there… tonight or evermore. So let’s turn that frown around… what was lost once now is found. .. your mom… my best friend’s comin’ home.

She said… “I need you to need me… i want you to want me. I pray that you’ll learn to count on me. And i’ll cast my bones on neon for the last time tonight. I’m comin’ home… it’s you that saved my life.

I’ll cast my bones on neon for the last time tonight…”

Spotify link… HERE

Voter’s Poll

LYRIC (political parody to the melody of Shel Silverstein’s “Freakin’ at the Freaker’s Ball“):

Well… we’re goin’ to a voters’ poll… today… it’s your civic toll. And you know… we’ll be counted… on the roll.

C’mon babies… scream and shout… we got the revolutionary clout… we’re gonna throw the bastards out… we’re goin’ to the voters’ poll.

Blow your whistle… bang a gong… take a breath… and sing along… it feels so good… it can’t be wrong… votin’ at the voters’ poll

All the heads and the reds… are standin’ in together… the scooter trash dressed in all kinds of leather… the greatest of the queens and the bible-thumpers too… screamin’ please bless me… and I’ll bless you.

Grungarati… adrenaline junkies… all the straights… are swingin’ with the funkies. Cross the floor… up the wall… votin’ at the voters’ poll… yo… votin’ at the voters’ poll!

Everybody’s bumpin’ each other… patriarchs and single mothers… smear my biscuits up with butter
And take me to the voters’ poll.

Pass that ballot … ring the chimes… you boot yours … i’ll boot mine… i’m gonna straighten up my spine… votin’ at the voters’ poll.

White ones… black ones… Jose and Yang ones. Green and blue and native red ones… the greatest of the dykes and the bible-thumpers too… screamin’ please bless me… and I’ll bless you!

Everybody’s holdin’ their opinions… flooding polling stations by the millions…we’re gonna clear the air that’s stinkin’… votin’ at the voters’ poll… yo… votin’ at the voters’ poll… na na na naaaa… votin’ at the voters’ poll!