This is a really long post, but I'm going to do it anyway, so we can have the lyrics here to refer to.
It's easier to wade through this post than to have to listen to these songs
1. For Karina
When it gets low,
There’s no one around.
When it gets lonely,
Nobody knows.
You’re the love of my life, so far.
You’ve got no reason to believe me,
When I tell you that I love you,
But believe me that I miss you,
And I’ll hold you in my heart,
I’ll be good to the next one,
And I’ll hold you in my heart,
Yes I know that I’ve lost you,
And I’ll hold you,
I will hold you. . . .
I know the black of your dress,
Like the back of your neck,
And the grumpy despair,
That’d wound me,
I know the tangle of your hair,
And the soft of your breast of angora,
At the movies.
When I get lost,
There’s no one to go home to,
When I get broke up,
Threre’s no one to call the phone to,
You’re the love of my life, so far . . .
2. The Ship Is Real
The ship is real, the ship is real,
Kirk and Spock are up there,
They’re gonna beam me up there,
I just know it,
I just know it.
The ensigns are easy,
Their skirts are all breezy,
We’re stocked with Saurian Brandy,
Green girls taste like candy,
I just know it,
I just know it.
NCC1701 (that’s my ship),
All my life I’ve been waiting to get beamed up,
I’ll blast a Klingon, I’ll blast two,
Enterprise, where the hell are you?
The ship is real, the ship is real,
I just know it,
I just know it.
(Our three year mission: to find girlfriends, to restock our provisions with as many different colored space borne alcohols as possible. Better make it a four year mission. Good idea, Sir!)
There’s a thing in my ear,
There’s a thing in my ear!
And Kirk’s gone evil again,
He knows just what will fix him,
So watch out, ladies watch out!
The ship is real, the ship is real,
All frequencies are open,
But my communicator, it’s broken,
I just know it,
I just know it.
NCC1701 (that’s my ship),
And all my dumb life I’ve been waiting to get beamed up,
I’ll kill one now and then I’ll kill one later,
Cause the only good Klingon’s a notch in my phaser,
The ship is real, the ship is real,
I just know it,
I just know it.
3. Sweet Like Worms
The stars at night,
Are big and bright,
The stars they glow,
So we’re not so alone,
We’re not so alone,
And I went on my way,
Cause I wanted to roam,
I went running and running,
And I found myself home.
I love it here,
Please tell me that you love it here,
In the State of Texas,
The state that we’re in,
In the State of Texas,
The state that we’re in,
The place where my heart lies,
The place where my blood flows,
The place where my truck drives.
There’s a bird on my windowsill,
Singing a song about the rain.
And I don’t know the things birds say,
But she’s singin’ and singin’,
So I’ll give hers a name,
I call it,
“Why oh why,
Does it rain on my nest,
I spent two weeks building it,
in two weeks I might be dead,
The Spring is short,
But sweet like worms.
The Spring is short,
But sweet like worms,
And I eat worms,
Well I’m just a bird,
But even I love it here,
Please tell me that you love it here.”
In the State of Texas,
The state that we’re in,
In the State of Texas,
The state that we’re in,
The place where my heart lies,
The place where my blood flows,
The place where my truck drives,
Like a yellow rose.
Oh baby I’m lost,
Now I’m down and confused,
I knew you’d been abandoned,
Then I abandoned you,
Sweetie Pie,
I waited so long for you.
Yeah I waited so long,
And then just look what I did,
Look what I’d still do,
Where the hell am I?
How did I get here?
What have I done?
Jesus, Sweetie, could you help me,
Could you help me please?
Still . . . .
I love it here,
Out here in the country,
And I don’t know where I’m driving,
I love it out here,
Where the sun is bright,
The grass is green,
And the ghost towns pass by . . .
In the State of Texas.
4. He Kept Painting
I once knew a girl that looked like Venus,
Who was born of the sea.
That girl, she went and grew up,
But look at Venus,
She’s still a buttercup,
Look at her lying there,
Next to Mars,
She looks so dissatisfied.
I think I know that girl,
I think that was my girl,
A couple times,
He died alone,
He died alone,
He couldn’t find,
The one in his mind,
The one in his paintings,
So Botticelli,
He kept on painting.
Now do you know his Virgin Mary,
Is that the girl from down the street?
Did she die young, did she get married?
Boticelli, he’s not telling.
But what he says, well it’s no secret,
The world is full of beauty and love,
And there’s someone for everybody,
But that don’t mean you’ll ever find them.
You can look at Titian,
And know there’s sorrow in store for you,
You can look at Rodin,
And know why passion was made for two.
But if you’ve looked everywhere,
And you think that she’s nowhere,
Well let me tell you,
You’re not alone there,
You’re not alone there.
He died alone . . .
Look at his Venus,
Who was born of the sea.
Is she sad or is she just alone?
Not sure if earth is where she wants to be,
Those Western winds, they blow so cold.
He died alone . . .
5. The Little Homie in My Tummy
And I woke up on my cousin’s floor,
We were up with Bacardi,
Put some shoes on and walked to school,
I was two hours tardy.
My classes are boring,
Especially sober,
I hate school,
I wish it was over, was over.
Met him up at Cooley Lake,
The fire was dying.
Made some more woods and put them on,
Then I tried to start crying.
Then after the last dance,
He gave a champ beating,
He left town,
The other guy laid there, just bleeding.
It was the boy from Navajoland,
But he don’t need to know,
Everything will be alright,
If I can get up the hill,
The little homie,
In my tummy,
Is down for whatever,
I wanna go to the party,
I wanna stay there forever.
Spent a week at my Auntie’s house,
Where the water was running,
Uncle Ronnie got G’d out,
He screamed the soldiers are coming.
We found him the next day,
Near the casino,
All beat up in the back of some white guy’s El Camino.
Rode around in Alfred’s Impala,
We fucked by the river,
He said, “Your belly’s gettin big.”
I said, “Your belly’s still bigger.”
She came two months early,
Four pounds and shitty,
I loved her sure,
But I wished she was pretty,
Was pretty.
It was the boy from Navajoland . . . .
Scored two thirty-packs of
Natural Ice,
Late last evening,
Musta blacked out,
When I woke up,
She wasn’t breathing.
6. 6,000,000 Dead Punks
Can’t Be Wrong
Punk’s not dead,
But there’s a lot of dead punks,
What happened to my lunch table crew?
We all got haircuts,
The black t-shirts have all been handed down,
There’s not too many spikes and chains around,
These days,
How’d we get so lame?
When we had skateboards,
That’s all that we had,
When we drank whiskey from a jar,
It wasn’t so sad,
The cheerleaders were our worst enemies,
Now we just regret that we didn’t get in their panties,
So much later,
How’d we get to be such traitors?
But if I ever saw Ms. Principal Sellers,
You know I’d tell her to f**k herself in the ass,
And I can still clean out a thrift store,
In ten minutes or less,
And I’m still here with my four string,
And I’m still pissed about love,
Punk’s not dead, f**k you,
Cause I’m still a punk.
Joey, Joey,
I’ll meet you in Magloober’s class.
Nancy, Nancy,
I know I failed to live too fast.
G. G., Dee Dee, Darby and Sid,
Forgive me for all the good things I did,
You know I tried to be bad, I tried to be bad,
Punk’s not dead,
But there’s a lot of dead punks . . .
7. You’re In Love Again
You’re in love again,
And I’ve never seen you lookin’ so pretty,
You sparkle like our filthy city,
You’re in love again.
You’re in love again,
NO, NO, I don’t want to see his picture,
But I’ll salute him as the victor,
You’re in love again.
And you’re nervous,
You think that he’s too cute for you,
But someone oughta tell you,
That there ain’t no one too cute,
For you.
You’re in love again,
And I’ve never seen you look so damn cute,
You keep smiling when you don’t mean to,
You’re in love again.
You’re in love again,
And I’ve never seen you look so pretty,
Shit!
I’ve never seen a girl so pretty,
You’re in love again.
He’s got your heart in his hands,
It’s there for anyone to see,
Please tell him not to touch the mended parts,
Cause that’s all that’s left of me.
You’re in love again,
I can tell,
There ain’t no use,
Anyone can look at you,
And see you’re in love again.
8. How’s It Going, Wells?
How’s it going, Wells?
Are you feeling okay?
You’ve had a rough year,
I know, I know,
Well you still smile,
And your laugh’s the same,
You’ve had a tough time,
I know, I know.
I sang for you,
When you turned seventeen,
Songs like Drew,
Or Betty or Mary.
Happy Birthday,
I know it’s not your Birthday,
But if you missed it then,
I’d like to sing it for you again . . .
How’s it going, Wells?
9. Same As Always
I’m back again,
Sleeping in the same place,
Doing things the old ways,
Tried to be different,
Know I’m the same as always.
I’m back again,
Hopping off the same trains,
Failing at the old games,
Lost in love and looking for the same face.
Reading while I go nowhere,
Sleeping while I dream I’m there,
At least I know that things won’t ever change,
Cause I’m back again,
I’m back again,
I’m back again,
I’m back again.
I’m running low.
10. No Buffalo
I’m getting too smart,
For girls that just hurt me.
It’s the one that’ll kill me,
Or nothing at all.
I’m getting too beat up,
My eyes are both swollen,
It’s the one that I’ll never get over,
Or nothing at all.
No need to aim or fire,
I’m giving up,
Here’s where it bleeds the most,
So do it now.
I want a girl who will shoot a buffalo,
But there’s no buffalo.
11. White Amplifier, 1956
Well I love my little amp,
Though the grounding’s not the best,
Listen close, and you’ll hear echoes of an era that was put to rest.
It’s The White Amplifier,
Made by Fender,
In 1956.
Don’t ask, don’t ask,
About my guitar,
It’s the cheapest thing that Fender ever stenciled.
Well it looks okay I guess,
When it’s sitting next to the rest,
Now that I sanded off the headstock,
And wrote the old logo in pencil.
Well with other amps,
It barely dangles,
But with my amp,
It sounds just like an angel,
The White Amplifier,
Made by Fender,
In 1956.
Roll call!
12AX7 – yup, yup.
6V6GT – uh, huh.
5Y3GT – boy you know it.
None of them are cracklin’,
Look at how they’re glowin’,
On my White Amplifier,
Made by Fender,
In 1956.
Don’t you just love the smell,
Of heated up dust and smoke?
It’s the best,
On my White Amplifier,
Made by Fender,
In 1956.
12. My Sweet Skyline
I can’t sleep at all,
I can’t dream it off,
I just wanted my arms around you,
I know it’s too late to call,
I hope your dad isn’t pissed,
I know I’m lucky that I got through,
My sweet skyline surrounds me,
And the train still gently rocks me,
The sky’s still gray and the air’s still cold,
The city still blackens my lungs,
And it’s snowing, too,
But it doesn’t mean anything,
Without you.
Right now,
She’s lying beside me in her poodle lingerie,
Right now,
She’s running me over in her Impala Chevrolet,
And I can’t find anyone else,
I’ve tried,
The fact I’ve tried,
Means I don’t deserve her.
And there ain’t nuthin’,
There ain’t a goddam thing I can do,
But grow up,
Like she told me to.
When you give up on love,
That’s when she’ll come along,
They say,
But I can’t give up,
I’ve tried for too long.
13. If You Loved Anyone
(Mary 2004.)
Put your pajamas on,
Come in and shut the door,
Put your whiskey down,
We don’t need it anymore.
You know it’s been ten years,
Since I kissed you last,
That’s a hell of a wait,
But no one can say you move too fast.
You tell me you’ve been drinking too much since May,
I’ve been drinking way too much,
Starting today.
You would love me,
If you loved anyone,
I’m sick of ifs,
I want you in my arms,
We would bicker,
We would fight,
But I promise you,
I would love you.
We would break up,
Every night,
But I promise you,
I would love you,
I would love you.
I like your new little car,
I like your neighborhood bar,
I came out here to the coast,
Now I’d like to go a bit further.
None of those words is my name,
I like the sound just the same,
Could you open your eyes,
To remind me that I’ll never tame you.
Your cat scratches up everyone who gets too close,
I wake up in the morning,
I feel her wet little nose,
You would love me . . .
Somewhere on the floor,
In a pile of miniskirts,
There were notes,
Folded in fourths,
Forgotten in pockets.
Out on the street,
It was two in the morning,
There was moonlight,
There was singing,
There was singing,
I’m sick of ifs,
I want you in my arms.