real

Am I nothing but a senseless whore?

I know how I feel and I’m Real

Just because my mouth runs on steam

and my heart tells all that I need

Doesn’t tell my whole story

or make you all wrong

Just because I’m hard

and because I’m strong

doesn’t mean that I don’t see

doesn’t mean that I don’t feel

It does not mean that I’m not Real

Am I close to home

Am I close to the bone

Am I nothing but a senseless whore?

Am I close to home

Am I close to the bone

Am I where you want me to be?

Do you want me on my knees

Do you want me to please

Or do you want me flying through the air

Do you want me to tease

Do you want me to seize

Any part that brings you ecstacy?

You’re so far removed

You are so uncouth

You don’t see my only talent isn’t wrapping my legs around you

I may be a proud toy or a pretty boy

but I know and I feel that I’m Real

Am I close to home

Am I close to the bone

Am I standing where I should?

I’m on my guard

and you’re getting hard

hammering like I’m a piece of wood

because I’m standing tall

and because I’m strong

Doesn’t mean that I don’t feel

It does not mean that I’m not Real

I know how I feel and I’m Real

Lyrics by Brad Jacobson

Music by Patrick English

mint Downtown

Clean fix cream of praying mantis soup

Chill of Mint Downtown

Put the loose lip on

Box of rotten self

Jay’s favorite sounds

Course feelings

that put marbles in the street

and open windows for strange electricity 

A burnt rubber toast is dripping

Distressed moment, recipe

Distressed moment, recipe

Distressed moment, recipe

The bit pretentious taste

Broken bones and the moon moans

and Chrissy

Distressed moment, recipe and Chrissy

Lyrics and music by Patrick English

Tower Of Knowledge

(spoken:)

In the race to find nocturnal life

we continuously find ourselves

tripping over carriages

of senseless and trivial humanity

where you are left questioning yourself

“Who am I?” “Who are we?”

do these spaces of perseverance really exist or is the future of our essence

just a mistake

am I here now? am I home?

do I belong, do I belong, do I belong...

The story of a rich man,

story of a milkman

Carrying out their powers

and counting out the dollars

to buy someone a moped

the story of a biped

do they ever congregate

in the bottom of a breastplate

is it any wonder Johnny’s undercover

Looking for another

Are you undercover too?

Story of deception, story of contraception

covered up in drool, breaking in the pool

Story getting stranger,

heading for the danger

Insipid romance started as a fast glance

Looking for some ether

to make the drinks weaker

Check behind the speaker

Are you getting weaker too?

Story of a milkman

challenging the rich man

Looking for his money, do you have my money?

(spoken: well do you?

do you have my fucking money?)

People to contemplate the power to manipulate

Any given situation is open brutalization

Misleading goddesses

and healthy economists

Try to commensurate

milkmen to masturbate

Try to close their minds thoughts that are unkind, where is my ball of twine

Are you unkind too?

(spoken:)

Somewhere my story has to end

the unfortunate lives that have been touched

are only the beginning to the endless Tower of  Knowledge that is known

to the nocturnal future dwellers

as for our heroes..the milkman.. and the richman

they are now sharing a one bedroom condo in beautiful Venezuela

Story of a milkman raped by a richman

or was it the other way

Who can really say

The story of two men riding on a biped

Living out a romance

brought on by pure chance

Lyrics by Brad Jacobson

Music by Patrick English

Interpretation by Tara Fisher

5:50

Lipstick shine on vaseline

Cover up my guillotine

Promises left are broken dreams

You said you’d come to this virgin queen

You said you’d meet me at 5:50

You said you’d meet me at 5:50

You said you’d meet me at 5:50

You said you’d meet me at 5:50

I need you, I want you

I’ll bleed you, I’ll haunt you

I need you, I need you

I need you, I want you

I need you, I need you

I need you

Blood-soaked tears on trampolines

Conjure up a Siamese

Time stops in abrupt air

We were supposed to come

but you weren’t there

Said you’d meet me at 5:50

Lipstick shine on vaseline

Cover up my guillotine

Promises left are broken dreams

You said you’d come to this virgin queen

Said you’d meet me at 5:50

Said you’d meet me at 5:50

Chorus Repeats

Lyrics/Music by Brad Jacobson

fade away and radiate

Lyrics/Music by Chris Stein

copyright 1978 Monster Island Music/Chrysalis Music (ASCAP)

Cold

Sometimes I wonder if I’m undercover

If there’s another too

Sometimes I’m scheming inside my dreaming

Tell me do you feel it too

No other place on earth is like my soul

No other pace can take you on this road

Sometimes I’m misfit inside my imprint

I want to know the truth

Sometimes I seether next to the heater

I could show you the proof

No other person can make you

feel this heat

No other being could

rearrange your need

She must've gone Cold

We just have hands now

They hum and blow

Midnight to midnight

In our basement

only silence of dust and bust

No surprise, surprise one trick

Yet still she moans

spirit and her soul

We wear her orange teeth on our hearts

We’ll be music teachers together

Light our cigarettes from our hum of warmth

Set our jagged rhythms free

Changing and spewing heat from our hum of warmth

Like some kind of new Depeche Mode

Sometimes I’m better beaten with leather

We all know my kind

Sometimes I’m spacious open to races

Tell me now that you’re mine

No other fever could ever be so tight

No other reason has ever felt so right

She must’ve gone Cold

Yet still she moans

in spirit and in soul

For all we know

She’s gone Cold

Lyrics/Music by Brad Jacobson

Poem by Patrick English

Soy

Caramel color...water...soy sauce

I’m swollen on a corn field

and the moon is Bernadette Peters

with feces on

She waits to take my fever

On an episode of “Andy Griffith”

A change of paprika on Bea’s sweatshirt

I race home

a spurning desire to sprinkle the seeds

Tracing casual passions on a budget

I butter my skirt with a paper knife

A shuddering wind

dark truth about mistletoe

A blank space

where grunted Grannies sit

I press my face

against the wood panelling to kiss it

Rosemary leaves

I fill her empty desk

with shatterproof acorns

Streak of graffiti across Dollywood

Disbelieving.... sigh!

Lyrics/Music by Patrick English

Will we Ever (Dressy afterchurl)

Clandestine lives in clandestine times

Rampaging souls in ulcerated folds

No one’s looking through my view

No one’s me and no one’s you

Will we ever get together

Will we ever be apart

Will we ever be remembered

Is this the end or the start

Sarcastic folds from sarcastic churls

Imitate life in acquitted night

No one’s talking in my head

No one’s alive and no one’s dead

Chorus Repeats

I’m just wondering if anyone is out there

If anyone hears me, if anyone sees me

I’m just writing this to prove I’m here

If anyone knows me,

if anyone believes me

Anyone

Are you there?

Will we ever get together

Will we ever be apart

Will we ever be remembered

Is this the end or the start

Repeat

Lyrics/Music by Brad Jacobson

Threes

I like the way you wrote your Threes

the way they bump and groan

and when you start to write a four

It’s time to take me home

I like it when you touch my five

I’m breaking like a stone

but when you went and grabbed my 6

I turned and went alone

I like the way you rode my Threes

the way they bump and groan

and when you start to write a four

It’s time to take you home

I like it when you touch my five

I’m breaking like a stone

but when you went and grabbed my 6

I turned and went alone

Why did you do

what you had to do

and why am I here alone

When you went all number eight

I had to leave now

but now that you’re here

I feel like a ten

but I’ll never love you again

Lyrics/Music by Patrick English

Additional lyrics by Brad Jacobson

Dancing underground

I cater to my every whim

I try to take everything in

You meandering through

the souls on the street

You dare to go

where the creatures meet

Dancing Underground

Moving round and round

Dancing up and down

Dancing Underground

I never knew there was this life

I never felt anything so right

You start to lose your Southern skin

You go back and do it all again

Chorus Repeats

I start to dance one to another

I step one foot in front of the other

You begin to dance through the air

Sway back and forth, just don’t care

They make a warrior in the fight

They dance through this sullen night

Swaying through the air

You’re swaying through the air

Swaying through the air

You’re swaying through the air

Lyrics by Brad Jacobson/Music by Patrick English

smoker Closer

I sit and smoke and listen to the radio

Moronic tales of passion spent and lost

Does anyone ever conquer on the radio

The airwaves transgress lives for a cost

Turn off the volume

break the wall of sound

Kick in the speakers and break new ground

Don’t want to hear

any pissy anthems about love

Take over the station

burn the building down

Knock over the tower

and become a new sound

Don’t want to hear any self-righteous talk about

The fever breaks

when Mariah cracks on the radio

Dogs in heaven hear

the puncture from her lungs

I spill my wine

hearing the charts on the radio

The airwaves disinegrate

the lives of our young

Chorus Repeats

Lyrics by Brad Jacobson/Music by Patrick English

horology

Julie Ashton...

Again, my name is Julie Ashton

I have two legs for you

I was only passing by but like sin

I was caught in an upstream curdle

I want sex with you.

Music by Patrick English

Poem by Patrick English

lyrics copyright © 1999 Union City Music/

friedAir Music

except where noted