1. |
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I saw your records at the Thrift Store
The complete Bach Cantatas, What a score!
It all showed up at once in the bin
And I was lucky enough to be in there with $20 bucks to spend
Thumbing through your records at the Thrift Store
I could somehow tell which ones were yours
I play them over and over
I thought you'd like to know that someone likes this stuff as much as you did
And they don't make queens like you anymore
WIth your cardigans and cologne
Those cookie-cutter kids would never know
How to do it on your own
How to do it on your own
I saw your records at the Thrift Store
You guys were dropping like flies and our eyes were sore
It wasn't right or fair
And we couldn't make anyone care
When the sentimental gentlemen were no more
And they don't make queens like you anymore
With your cardigans and cologne
Those cookie-cutter kids would never know
How to do it on their own
And they don't make queens like you anymore
No two of you were the same
I can see you drinking red wine on your floor
Playing Handel while it rains
On the day when the death sentence came
They don't make queens like you anymore.
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2. |
Philip Larkin
03:31
|
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Phillip Larkin, articulate
English post-war sophisticate
Perfect form and biting bit
How could I possibly aspire to it?
Lines of symmetry and grace
In comparison I'm all over the place
How can I possibly aspire to it?
He's been to Oxford, he knows his shit!
Phillip Larkin: All this might be
Still, a sad git living in a library
Elegance to hide the misery
A poet for the depressed and tipsy
If your world is grey and not replete
With color then vision's incomplete
Mastery of craft cannot disguise
That you wouldn't know love
If it blacked your eyes!
Phillip Larkin, like the rest of us
Laboring under wrongheaded delusions
Living life and trying not to drown
Seeing things and trying to write them down
Though I don't like what you did to me
I can see now, I can see!
Sharing coffee and a slice of pie
I am certain, in the by and by.
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3. |
Oranges Are Over
04:01
|
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Not long ago
I ate an entire bag at the kitchen sink, alone
Now I’m looking everywhere
I had them all and ate them up
And I didn’t share
Oranges are over
I know you had your reasons
But I’m a West Coast child and I just don’t get the seasons
And who’s that dummy at the produce store
Stupidly asking if there’s any more
When there aren’t any more
They shrug their shoulders and fold their arms
Oranges are over
I see a dripping faucet
I see a picture of you and your kids in Massachusetts
They say the times of life are never through
The gains and losses are nothing new
The fruits of spring come into view
Peaches res, blueberries blue
What the hell’s the matter with you?
Oranges are over
It’s another busy day
I don’t get much time to pine away
Muddle through somehow
Couldn’t be any more wrong to want something
That must be rotten by now
Oranges are over
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4. |
||||
Phillip Larkin, articulate
English post-war sophisticate
Perfect form and biting bit
How could I possibly aspire to it?
Lines of symmetry and grace
In comparison I'm all over the place
How can I possibly aspire to it?
He's been to Oxford, he knows his shxt!
Phillip Larkin: All this might be
Still, a sad git living in a library
Elegance to hide the misery
A poet for the depressed and tipsy
If your world is grey and not replete
With color then vision's incomplete
Mastery of craft cannot disguise
That you wouldn't know love
If it blacked your eyes!
Phillip Larkin, like the rest of us
Laboring under wrongheaded delusions
Living life and trying not to drown
Seeing things and trying to write them down
Though I don't like what you did to me
I can see now, I can see!
Sharing coffee and a slice of pie
I am certain, in the by and by.
|
Pelicanopolis Oakland, California
Pelicanopolis is:
Gren Coffee-Vox, Guitar, Uke, Cornet, Harmonium
John Dowdakin-Guitar, egg,
humor
Tresca Behling-Bass, Quality Assurance
Paul Conte-Drums, percussion
Stephen Seche-Drums, percussion things, graphics.
... more
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