Songs From a Solitary Home Lyrics

Ecophobia

so I’ve tried never to hide
I’ve cashed in shame for pride
in a lifeless sea of formaldehyde

I strolled the night trying to subside
into something that’s real
but home is still unfamiliar

no one wants to die alone
no one wants to die alone
but there’s a colored life on TV
where everybody knows the song
and everybody sings along with me

so you cried when your love died
yet no one knows the distance you feel
from yourself in its residence

it took some time trying to find
your drifting departure in mind
but home is still unfamiliar

no one wants to die alone
no one wants to die alone
but there’s a colored life on TV
where everybody knows the song
and everybody sings along with me

Solitary Home

do you remember when you could do anything you wanted to?
they said you were the greatest one of the finest girls at the college uptown
do you remember when you could say anything you wanted to say
they said you were the smartest one of the finest girls at the college uptown

hey hey do you remember when you stood in the yard
they said the world is right in front of your feet
and someday you’re gonna meet Mr. Marlon Brando,
live in a tango, build up a house of dreams
and count the daisies
do you remember when your eyes had a drain
there was a guy behind your lashes
showing all the pretty flashes of Humphrey Bogart eating his yoghurt
dining with Norma Jean

do you remember the first time you took a ride
on the vertigo pony made of Mahogany
waving to the ducks by the surrogate clown
uptown smashing your leather balls
into the rusty cans shooting rabbits and monkeys
feeding the donkeys
waiting for the days to be blemished in frown

hey hey do you remember when you stood in the aisle
between the rivers that you saw in your dreams,
the fainted flashes from kindergarten
swimming in bourbon chasing a big balloon
you looked so happy shooting the blind with blanks on medicine square
in the obituary rolling stone
a metropolitician met Joe DiMaggio
playing arpeggio from the great beyond

in the solitary home a woman’s talking through a phone
with a man who is selling dreams for people who never close their eyes
unless they try to sleep
in the solitary home by the TV all alone
her children left her years ago
and her husband sails a world of paper souls and silhouettes
when time hits the gravity nothing seems to measure up
the days, weeks, months, years filling her up

stuck in a commercial
hideous like a dying tiny little puppy
skinny to the bone
you bite the bullet twixt the cup and the lip in a monstrous town
where the jingles are fading
every time you try to change the channel
you tune in, drop out, trying to shout
but no one can hear their own voice when they dream

hey hey do you remember when you stood in the yard
I said the world is right in front of your feet
and someday you’re gonna meet mr. Marlon Brando
live in a tango, build up a house of dreams
and count the daisies
do you remember when your eyes had a drain
I was the guy behind your lashes
showing all the pretty flashes of Humphrey Bogart feeding you Yoghurt
from the great beyond

Teenage Mannequins

ever since you were a little boy
you used to think to yourself
that the mysterious ways of a common life
was a commotion riding with a baby boom
and every now and then you saw a face you saw a smile
and by the pillow of a slow decay
you could taste the sweetness of the grenadine smeared upon your bed
for those long bitter days

there was a time
when you were nine
you had those long and shady curls
now your are bald
and way to old
to play among the girls

the happy teenage mannequins
in perforated petty coats
in taffetas of satin hoop crinoline
the puppeteers are working on your midlife Capri pants
and tricel scarves in pastel greens but the restless walks in his jeans
you never were as pretty as Ronny from the gym
he had a hammer for a head and a shovel for a fist
and a face of mutilation talking just like Citizen Kane
now brady boys and rubber dolls, razorblades and barbie bones
saturdays tangled up in purple cymbelines from a wedding
are lying in your bed for those long bitter days

Simone

Simone!
will you sleep with my friend he’s alone
got some money got no family plans
he’s got the mojo and chastity pants
and a blister pack full of romance

wicked word in perfect fluctuation
they tell me nothing really matters anymore now
and if I do, or if I don’t, it’s all temporary anyway
in other words, I really don’t know what to say
I guess it would be nice if we were lovers
on the way to matrimony
hold my hand, pretend I’m the fisherman’s bend
on your traveling shoes

Simone!!
will you sleep with my friend he’s alone
got some money got no family plans
if you see him again will you tell him
as long as you’re broke that you get what you pay for

oh god it’s really not my intention
to make you believe in me in this world of interventions
I never thought I would boil down to the core
of everything I wanted to hide from you
the truth is that I’m scared of everything I sense as real
and have you noticed that I’m nervous?
that’s because ironic distance only works for those who bleed the most
now the joke is on me

so tell me what you think of your boyfriend
is he the kind of boy that you want to be alone with
as the emptiness haunts your perfect little masquerade
what is the matter Simone, don’t you like the attention?
pulling off your veil of vanity won’t scare him away
it’s all downhill from here

Simone!!!
will you sleep with my friend he’s alone
got some money got no family plans
he’s got the mojo and chastity pants
and now he’s looking for some love and romance
in a mutally beneficial kind of way
but nothing seems to make you get off, Simone
let’s try another way
Simone!!!!

Card Boxes

my heart is weak
it’s having a leak through dying words and chants
lovers and friends they gather up here
put up the flare
and when funerals are about to begin
the widows of merchants and tailors on primrose path greets all the strangers
we’re bound to the aftermath

I listen to daddy
he told me before
life has a way of just happening
bang! it’s gone with all your favorite songs

well I wasn’t too young the day that my parents moved out
from the house where we lived
twenty five cardboard boxes went through the dumpster
in secret I cried through the day
in the rain

cause my heart is weak
it’s having a leak and sometimes it drips in a song
and now it is gone

The Age of the Paranoia

here comes the paranoia
here comes the pitiful joy
we used to sing when we were happy
like the pigs in the poke
my baby’s gonna take me out dancing
here comes the paranoia
I feel it everywhere
supersonic, catatonic patterns in between despair
of everything pure in this world

and it’s hard not to be seen
when you’re rushing down the stream
so if you hear me don’t you panic
it’s all swell
they’re going to take us away
from here, I know the end is near

here comes the paranoia
gunshots, mockery chants, pineapples, porcupines
and Pasadena pillows of kashmere skin
to make me feel all right
don’t forget the tranquilizers
ice cream, crackers and care
NyQuils, a bottle of tequila
and a head for my hair

here comes the paranoia
lonely days of joy and laughter
added up in the equation
I can see the substance of it all
beyond the paranoia, white is turning black
every time I stare into the TV
karma supernova is looking back

Dance With the Cookie Man

I love the way you move your body
I love the way you move your hips
I love the way you dance upon my chest
and the sugar that is dripping from your lips

I said I love the way you move your body
but your eyes are always twitching when you gaze
like someone tied your laces way too tight
Now the ribbon from you hair is in your face

and now I’d love to dress you up just like my harlequin dolls
and put you on the ledge where you belong
with mairzy doats and little lamzy divey
let’s hold each others hands and sing a song

oh just shake your head and praise the dead
I tell you I love you even though your heart is made of styrofoam
I’ll cover up your stitches all the 67 inches and put you in the play
let’s spread the word and get together for a dance with the cookie man

oh just shake your head and praise the dead
I’ll tell you I love you when the batteries are pumping through your plastic bones
now I’ll cover up your stitches all the 67 inches and put you in the play
let’s spread the word and get together for a dance with the cookie man

Trampoline Superstar

heavens, the earth was covered up in grenadine
the day he died he stood up laughing at the edge of the rack
with a barrel over his head

well I guess the trampoline would bring him higher
his hands were always reaching to the sky
now the wretched tones of smashing bones took the catcher in the rye

now memories of sweaty rubber pants and terylene haunts the man
who cracked the decades with the edge of his palms
in the face of the queen of the prom

and now his boys are getting bigger
and the apples never fall far from the tree
a fistful of aggression, a mouthful of debris

now Mr. Slim skipped the gym
he broke his fingers and a rib but they told that it’s gonna be fine
he didn’t care for cannonball, and for football he was always to clumsy
but he liked to fall

yesterday’s superstars on trampoline came marching through the secondary school
and by the pool they found his favorite Freudian slippers
and the Catcher in the Rye

Downtown Boogie

six o’clock time to stop
and count the blisters on my feet
I’ve been swinging at the solitary home
for caviar on plates of chrome
I rub my head eyes going red

I try to picture myself back there
in the eruption of the dreams that turned to lead
on the ivy covered bed

my life’s a downtown boogie every night and day
lovers come and lovers go but that is just a part of the play
now I got new shoes for downtown boogie the endless cabaret
cry your little heart out everything is gonna be ok tomorrow

seven o’clock the sun is up
and like a bullet in a china shop
in these anachronistic hours of today
the belly of the moon is gray
now there’s nobody here but Fred Astaire
Frank Sinatra, Doris Day
oh Olivia de Havilland my bride.
I’ll keep you by my side
and when you’re feeling blue
take a ride with the tinkerbelly boy
step up for some pedestrian city joy
cause we wont be here tomorrow
but it sure as hell was fun

my life’s a downtown boogie every night and day
lovers come and lovers go but that is just a part of the play
now I got new shoes for downtown boogie, tap dance and ballet
cry your little heart out everything is gonna be ok tomorrow

Heart of Hickory

It’s a habit to be hip
like a donkey with a whip
or an epileptic pantomime
blowing bubbles with a torch
on your dad’s front porch
peeling off the stitches from your spine

and when the love is dead
come and get your butcher knife
open up your heart and make me happy
come and get your butcher knife

quarterback got the sack
crack backpackers in a black Cadillac
how we sang with the gang
it’s the world that makes us cry
they say it’s dangerous out here inside these woods
but the more you give the more you break
this narcissistic loving that they planted in your brain
when you were young

the devil’s on your bed playing ducks and drakes
with all the pictures from your wasted youth
he pays a penny for lies
a dime for truth
count the nickels for your pills and booze

Domestic Violets

we laughed and we cried
we had some drinks
like pigs in denial
like morbid chimps
tell me what you think
what to make of this
can we fill the gaps
make a pretty house and live happily
cover up our tracks
build up a terrace above the oblivion
and cut down the trees and let the sun in
into the night

now lonely days like cans of maze
and rags that’s soaked in ether
didn’t seem so bad when he was there
the sky was filled with daffodils
the nights dazzled in domestic violets
grew behind her smile
to keep in denial

Adville

beer drops dripping from the sky
handcuffed ponytailed crustaceans on a pie
it’s just another day in Adville
black holes, a copper chandelier
gazing to the everblack in disrepair
through the Technicolor blue skies
it’s all right, you’ve seen it all before
changes, generations passing through your door
it’s the hollow dazing good times for the shovels in the shed
so breathe in, life is coinciding with your head
through the Technicolor blue skies
in dribs and drags the plungering funambulist gets older
carried by kalopsia he’s balancing the edge of the roof
the bees are in the bonnet and the bottle’s in the belfry
the markings in the ceiling bears the noteprints of a sinister song

The Transient

suicide is painless in the town where I was born
life became a suffocated way to block the world out from my own
upon the carousel that noone wants to ride
I carry piles of smiles
and joyful happy moments from my childhood
now there’s something rotten in the state of being me
the fear of never feeling anything at all
the backbone in the eye

now I got chocolate colored crackers
in a mouth of broken teeth
where the tongue of time whips many marks
but I’ll keep the scars as long as they’re not bleeding
my name has long since withered
from the headstone of my home
I fled this town to find a place
for restless, uncaressed, unfitted minds to settle down
but what I found
I’m still a stranger
how will they know that it is me

suicide is painless in the town where I was born
life is just a suffocated way to block the world out from our own
upon the carousel that noone wants to ride
we carry piles of smiles
and joyful happy moments
in a maze of blazing colors of our lies