1. |
(intro)
00:22
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2. |
Radio Wormwood
02:14
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I get out of bed and I put on my game face. I try to move on but I'm stuck in the same place. I reach for the bottle, I guess that should be a warning, but to waste your whole day you gotta start in the morning. Since she's been gone I do nothing all day, just let the Radio Wormwood take my worries away. I live in the moment 'cause the past is a blur, but every song I hear has got me thinking of her. Radio Wormwood. I just want to feel good. Radio Wormwood. Turn me on, Radio Wormwood. They're playing my song on the Radio Wormwood. It's been so long, I could be heading for sainthood. Tell me I'm wrong. We’re all just looking to feel good. It's like every song I find is designed to remind me. Not easy moving forward while I'm looking behind me. I'm sure I did a lot of things I ought to regret, but I just can't remember what she just can't forget. Radio Wormwood, make me feel good. Radio Wormwood. She said, "You got to find it inside you." I said, "But baby, I tried to." Radio Wormwood. I just want to feel good. Radio Wormwood. Turn me on, Radio Wormwood. They're playing my song on the Radio Wormwood. I'm coming along. I gotta be strong.
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3. |
Love Bleeds Out
02:13
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I did my common sense reconnaissance. It was so obviously ominous. I told her, “You can keep your promises." But, she's been poking at my cracks and flaws, invoking a war that never was, provoking me with the blood she draws. I'm hoping that I'll survive her claws, but something warm is soaking through the gauze. There ain't no suture can mend my future. I thought I knew her. Now I'm sprawled on the floor in her room for doubt. I'm crawling to the door but I can't get out. She's calling in the hall for another bout. I’m trying to recall how this came about. I’m waiting for the fall while my love bleeds out. The night is dark, rain on the concrete. The car's in park. Love takes a backseat. This girl's a shark. I'm feeling weak, and she's chewing me up like I'm just another piece of meat. Gimme salvation, resuscitation, coagulation. I'm down and out, just watching while my love bleeds out.
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4. |
Get to the Base
03:37
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The snow is swirling early, I can barely feel my feet. I’ve got about a hundred names for it, just none I can repeat. This dark and cold is getting old, I need to feel the heat. I’ve got no time to waste. I gotta get to the base. Back on earth, for what it's worth, they’re watching me with the Hubble. Crews approve my every move, but they don’t know my struggle. I missed my flight to the satellite. I should’a caught the shuttle. The atmosphere is so thin out here, I could use a double double. And ground control is on my case, saying, “Get to the base.” They got scientists compiling lists, with pages on gauges and thrusters. They claim the boosters that I’m used to can no longer cut the mustard, but in my shoes they’d all refuse to use these new cruise adjusters. And tonight the starlight’s too damn bright, I can’t see through the clusters. I better pick up the pace. I gotta get to the base. I’ve had my taste of outer space. I can trace the light years on my face. Those days in stasis, what a waste. The weightless wait in hyperspace, the daily disdain I maintain for this place, and memories of her and me that I can’t erase. I’ll spell it out in uppercase - I wish on every star in space that I could plot a vector to retrace the long trek home, back to the place where I can feel my wife’s embrace, and wipe the tear from off her face. But before they let me pack my travel case, I gotta save the human race.
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5. |
Sprouting Antlers
02:11
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Is it the lunar phase? Maybe the shorter days? But something stirs me as I watch her graze. A flash of tail, is that a welcome or a warning? A whiff of musk, well you can call me in the morning. I'm just a broncin' buck, and I'm on the rut. Gonna bust a nut, yeah, I'm sprouting antlers. I'd follow you into the clearing. I’d challenge any stag who's interfering. Doe, it's clear to see that you're deer to me, ‘cause when you're near to me I'm sprouting antlers. She's heaven sent, this ruminant. We ain't gonna need no lubricant. Above the river bank, the scent of something dank. I don't know who to thank, as I approach her from the flank. It's evident there's never been so menacingly feminine a specimen. Is this attraction or adrenaline? I just can't resist her venison.
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6. |
Big Bazoo
03:05
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I caught this band the other day in a little bar in Thunder Bay. I was down there on a holiday. I took a wrong turn down an alleyway, and hey, I tell you I was blown away. These guys were gay, they’re from LA, the singer’s wearing lingerie - that old cliche, but they could play, make no mistake. I had to stay. I had to see what they had to say. My takeaway? They’re on their way. So, anyway, without delay I tracked them down and told them that they sounded like something new - about to break through. They called themselves the Big Bazoo. I’m telling you baby, they’re hitting their heyday. Unless they get waylaid they’re in for a payday. Ain’t shittin’ you, they be straight outta the eighties. Their noise is amazing. Those boys getting crazy. Unless they get lazy, they’ll be the next Jay-Z, or Martin Scorsese, or whatsisname Swayze, or maybe Slim Shady in some lady’s Mercedes, drinkin’ Moet and OJ, looking over a screenplay. Or if they get lucky, they could be the next Shecky, and then it’s all gravy, and prime rib for brekky, on a platinum tea tray. That’s not even the entree. Got your own private buffet. It’s not even your birthday. Just an average workday. Just a lucky fuckin’ jerk day. Just cashing the cheques, relaxing and enjoying the view. It’s all brand new when you’re ballin’ with the Big Bazoo. Respect me, I’ve been there. I’ve checked out my fair share; the fan expo fanfare, the latex and swimwear. Got wrecked out in Bel Air on Mexican red hair …the heck did I get there? I Amex’ed the airfare. I’ve necked in a deck chair with Becky with the big hair. But, I’m not gonna go there. Her boyfriend’s a nightmare. I’m just breathing the sea air. I’ve seen good people turn their heads. I’ve seen the damage done. I’ve seen a bad moon rising, and I’ve seen the setting sun. I’ve seen a face I can’t forget. I’ve seen the light break through. I’ve seen the fire, and I’ve seen the rain, and I’ve seen that movie, too. So, if you dare to go there, then follow my cue, and just do what I tell you to do. You wanna be cool? Take a lesson from the Big Bazoo.
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7. |
Help Isn't Coming
02:49
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The guests have left. The party's thrown. My luck’s been pressed, and my hand is shown. I'm left undressed, my cover's blown, as I wrestle with these lessons that I face alone. Yes, I'm a mess, I'm overthrown. In full arrest, best left alone with unaddressed regrets I’ve known. The seeds I’ve sown are long overgrown. I can't look back, I just close my eyes and I keep on running. The pounding of my heart tries to compromise with the distant drumming, and help isn't coming. I don't know why, but I can't deny, help isn't coming. Now I confess, I know I must atone for gestures that I once condoned. For pleasures measured by the moan and yesterday's testosterone. I'm here on my own in the combat zone, and I'm succumbing. I don't have a clue what I need to do, but I've got to do something, ‘cause help isn't coming. Dressed for the inquest I can't postpone, in double-breasted polyester herringbone. Sequestered on this jester's throne, my defence rests on a bed of stone. I'm in distress. I should have known. They repossessed my microphone.
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8. |
Paper the Cracks
03:30
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Don't lie, you're hiding a secret. Nice try. Do you think you can keep it under your hat? You know you can't relax. You gotta cover your tracks. You fucked up; a night you're not proud of. A hookup that you can't speak aloud of. That one uncommon lapse has got you walking on glass and trying to paper the cracks. You're slipping backwards. The stress fractures spread like red lights across her radar. You dot your 'i's, and you cross your fingers. Rationalize, but the guilt still lingers. Just want to bury the axe, turn your back on the past and try to paper the cracks. Delete those emails. Deceit is in the details. You missed this lipstick on your collar. Yeah it shows, and she knows. Uncertain whether a moment of pleasure could ever sever what kept you together. You're wishing you could go back, rewrite those first couple acts and keep that thing in your slacks. Now she's leaving, and you're spinning in gravel. The web you're weaving has begun to unravel. You watch the cards collapse and start to face the facts, you'll never paper the cracks.
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9. |
One Hundred Suns
04:42
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Fly on down in your astral plane. Up or down, I guess it's all the same. Every night I see one hundred suns. One of them has got to be the one. Oh, enlightened cosmic druid; all-accepting and gender fluid, come and teach us how you do it. How your planet gets down to it. How you keep it unpolluted; rivers pure and undiluted, with every sub-species included and every foreign flag saluted. Every border undisputed and every hateful statement muted. Every teacher clear and lucid and all the children firmly rooted. Give a little guidance to the new kid. We're still young and we can be so stupid. Take us by the hand and walk us through it, but please be patient, 'cause we're only human. I used to think that you were just a story, but now I tend to spend my nights at the observatory. Every night I see one hundred suns. One of them has got to be the one. The white and black, the green, the blue and every other multi-coloured mutant co-existing as one unit; speaking every language fluent. With all philosophies congruent. You gotta show us how it is you do it. Share the tv shows you're viewing, magazines that you've been perusing, what it is that you find amusing, perhaps the party drugs that you're using, and how you focus on improving and keep your evolution moving. And how you keep your people choosing winning over losing. Help us see the parallels between our neighbours and ourselves.
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10. |
Pain Is Free
02:08
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11. |
Skin Tight
02:46
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Skin tight. Just play along and you'll be alright. Hold tight. It won't be long until the daylight. The global fashion industry thrives on insecurity. It preys upon the purity of young girls' immaturity. An arbitrary referee appointed by society, suggesting that her worth should be based on physicality, the shape of her anatomy or how she looks in Burberry. Before she reaches puberty she's already afraid to eat; afraid she's under scrutiny each time she visits Dairy Queen. Her classmates can be very mean, they peel away her self-esteem with innuendo to demean a body type that's like she's never seen in any magazine. Skin tight; it's like a snake bite. You know the truth is in your mind and beauty's what you find inside, and though the world can be unkind, only you can draw the line. Only you can keep reminding that the clothes and lies you're buying; shoes designed for social climbing, aren't the ones you should be shining. Everyone is only trying to hold the ground they're occupying. Use your will to keep denying underlying, terrifying expectations they're applying. Who's needs are they satisfying? Who's fears are they magnifying? Perhaps I'm oversimplifying, but there could be a lot less crying. Skin tight. Play along and you'll be alright. Hold tight. Stay strong until the daylight. Keep on walking past reflections on the cold hard glass. You're so much more than just the shadow that you cast.
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12. |
My God
04:42
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My God doesn’t need my worship. He doesn’t feel I gotta kneel like he’s royalty. It’s pretty clear it’s not fear he’s after. He’s got no plan to demand my loyalty. My God isn’t insecure. He hears my prayer, but doesn’t care if I swear allegiance. Like a friend, he doesn’t tend to be offended. His love is not dependent on my blind obedience. But he likes it when I try my best to be a caring person and to learn from my mistakes, or when I stand up for what I think is right, or ask forgiveness for the promises that I break. And when some struggle is keeping me awake - can’t get no sleep, so I ask him in the night for a little help. He’ll usually say alright, if it’s a reasonable request. He’ll help me to rest; remind me I’m blessed. He knows all the cards I’ve held to my chest. He shows me the strength that I never guessed I always possessed. He knows that my faith is weak, but he lets me have my doubts. He knows I need to seek, to find what he’s about. And while I’ve got no proof of his existence, it seems like he’s listening, when I need some assistance. If your God tells you to kill in his honour, to martyr the bombers and copycat Dahmers. Or if he leads you like a lamb to the slaughter to damn your own daughter, dishonour your father, or mortar the border - just following orders, while waving your banner of hatred and anger, or poison the water to pocket a dollar, then maybe you ought to forget what they taught you and take time to ponder just a little bit longer, ‘cause maybe you’re wrong or perhaps you simply misinterpreted; just missed the meaning of the words you read. Perhaps you bought what someone marketed. You ever thought that maybe you got targeted? They took your despair and they harnessed it.
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13. |
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Something great is gonna happen. I can’t wait to see it happen. I concentrate and I imagine a world alive with possibility. Flowing through me like an ocean, the dopamine and the oxytocin. I got endorphins and serotonin. Yeah, I’ve arrived at positivity. And if my point of view might seem unrealistic - I say, what’s wrong with being optimistic? Yeah, I’m excited, can’t you feel it? I’m so delighted, I just can’t conceal it. I’m holding tight, won’t let no one steal it. Yeah, it’s here to stay. There's good things on the way. What we're chasing, we can achieve it, if we embrace it and just believe it. So, pull that ace hiding up your sleeve, and make your play. It’s time to seize the day. Don’t despair, just put your passion first. ‘Cause to be fair, it can’t get much worse. Something great is gonna happen. Just you wait, you'll see it happen. Concentrate and just imagine a world alive with possibility.
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14. |
Prone
02:56
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I was prone to chase illusions; prone to reach the wrong conclusions. Still playing foolish games that you'd outgrown. While falling fast, I kept on hopin', somehow at last, my ’chute would open. But now, I'm laying on the drop zone alone; prone. Without your arms to keep me warm, I turn my collar to the storm and let the wind decide which way I'm blown. Prone to make the same mistakes. Prone to own a heart that breaks. This bird has flown, like every other one I've known. Words of love shouldn't need rehearsing. Straight from the heart, would that be the worst thing? You can't teach a stone to not get thrown. Prone to feeling blue. Prone to missing you. I'm prone to lose another lover, but, just how long I choose to suffer, I know it's up to me and me alone. Well, maybe that's not strictly true, ‘cause when I dream I picture you. You're laying there, somewhere on your own; prone.
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15. |
(outro)
00:16
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Shecky Victoria, British Columbia
We make music to entertain ourselves, and hopefully you, too. Crank it, and thanks for listening!
Send us an email - we'd love to hear from you! (Click 'Contact Shecky' below).
- Shecky
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