Tag: lyrics

Mystery Lights

Posted on by Taung Child
mystery lights

“I think I see the mystery lights?
Can you see the mystery lights?
I think I see the mystery lights?
Can you see the mystery lights?”
Oh, no, my brother. You are mistaken again
There’s nothing out there but the wind

“Shining like the will-o’-the-wisp
So lovely and so mysterious
Out there on the horizon
Fading in and out of my vision!”

You are a simple soul, gullible and suggestible
To convince yourself of something that just isn’t there

Get in the car
Get in the car
I want to get something to eat
Get in the car

“Do you remember the night that we saw the mystery lights?
Do you remember that magical night, when we saw the mystery lights?”

Stars

Posted on by Taung Child


Would you get a load of this so-called age of innocence?
What a load of shit — all day long we take our chances
You live your life staking out your moral fortress
Never looking out to see the mess you left behind

I’m not saying I’m confident but I’m getting pretty good at this
And it’s a bitter pill; if you can’t swallow it I will

We are all stars on our report card
We are all stars on our report card

No one’s dead, no one’s gone — their breath is what we’re breathing
The way they thought and the way they were
Shape we formulate our schemas
Make these promises they’re little off hand comments
But your kids will hear them — think they’re real
Now they’re let down again

Well you took a stab, you took a first pass
You bet your ass there’s a learning curve
You better get comfortable; it’s going to happen over and over but

We are all stars on our report card
We are all stars on our report card

When you read the pattern stamped on years it’s clear
The fractures, mirror, everything I swore I’d never
I’ve been comfortable just tucked away in my circular process
And if you want me to I’ll straighten it right out for you

I do my damnedest – do my best – it might not be a lot but I do
What I can — and remember primum non nocere

We are all stars on our report card
We are all stars on our report card

My Mother Was A Witch

Posted on by Taung Child

I’ve got a paperweight
Sitting on my desktop
It’s a conversation piece
People walking by all want to stop
And ask “is that a piece of marble?”
I say “no, my friend, that right there is onyx.
It’s as dark as the night and as inky as the ocean
My mother was a witch but she didn’t play with potions!”

They all say “ooo, it shimmers!
Does that have secret powers?”
I say “touch it with you left hand
Tell me in an hour.
Did you see the past and all of its nuance?
Did you see your own life — all the in-congruence?
Can you understand now how Judas made decisions?
And how it all relates to how you wrestle with your own plans?”

My mother was a witch
She gave me secret powers, yeah!
My mother was a witch
She gave me secret powers, yeah!
My mother was a witch
She gave me secret powers, yeah!
My mother was a witch
She gave me secret powers, yeah!
My mother was a witch

Fantasy is Healthy

Posted on by Taung Child

Worry, worry worry
Humdrum daily bother
Spinning, spinning, spinning
My head is spinning spinning spinning
I am going to die one day
Everybody dies one day
Does everybody freak out?
I am pretty freaked out
Does everybody freak out?
Because I am pretty freaked out

When all these things keep you up all night
What can you do?
What can you do?
When everything keeps you awake all night
What can you do?
What can you do?
Well you can dream
You can imagine things
Fantasy is healthy
Fantasy is healthy
You can dream
You can create things in your mind
Fantasy is healthy
Fantasy is healthy

From Where I Left Off

Posted on by Taung Child
the ancient harp

I’m sorting out the ash from the sand in the incense jar with a minuscule metal rake

Do crows intimidate the hawk?

Is BITCH SEEKS BRAT still in the classifieds?

I’m picking up from where I left off

You got a fucking problem with that?

I’m trying to figure out what made my real or metaphorical heart stop

The ancient harp was found deep in the kudzu patch where the quibbling wizards buried it

When I heard it sing again I cried

I hadn’t cried since my cat Bobo died

I certainly don’t cry about you and me

Only what’s symbolic

Occasionally these concerns are rendered moot by an unmitigated moment of pure joy

The Parallel Saga of a Desert Road Trip and the Death of the Taung Child

Posted on by Taung Child

The hardest test don’t get a grade
At least that’s what I think you told me that you heard her say
There was something about a Volkswagen
Bleached out animal skeletons sitting by the road in the Texas sun

Dirty kids by the pool will be all day
Run through subjects until there is nothing to say
Never even saw the mystery lights
You never saw the mystery lights

Well you never saw the mystery lights
I tell you my brother I am headed down to Marfa to look for them
Because when I get an idea in my head
It doesn’t matter one lick if it’s impossible, improbable, delusory or some kind of scam

I’m the dirty kid by the pool; I’ll be here all day
I’ll start whistling some weird tune when there’s nothing to say
Bleached out animal skeletons sitting by the road in the Texas sun

I think I see the mystery lights! Can you see the mystery lights?
I think I see the mystery lights! Can you see the mystery lights?

The eagle’s claw would pierce his eye
As he is lifted above the dry and desolate plain
And he would never be as high as the hour when his feet would not walk the Earth again

Dirty kids, dirty old men, by the pool
Be here all day — always been the rule
Bleached out animal skeletons sitting by the road in the Texas sun

I think I see the mystery lights! Can you see the mystery lights?