Archive for the ‘nostalgia’ Category

Why you always scheming the mic like a ponzi?
I ain’t got the wings for your pegasus onesie
Step back, let’s get some creatures on the track
cause my wolves are getting worn and my rabbits getting jacked

A colony a of leprechauns is rubbing at the pot
but the rainbow stays so dented up and shot
fantasy full of plot holes and loose ends
can’t be sad to see the death throes go down the bends

when the chimera staring at you with stone eyes
medusa has gotten use to chewing on bone flies
I’m down the river Lethe, overdosing on MXE
someone get me the worlds upset me prep me with amphetamines

the fiends are beings that feed at your core
it used to be bat country but now I’m not so sure
did you see what god just did to my manner?
turned the wrench in my spokes into a hydrospanner

My Pawn Shop Father

Posted: November 28, 2014 in family, heroes, nostalgia

Pawn shop visitor
Price inquisitor
My dad likes to shop around
Like a junkyard hawk
Always looking for gadgets
A hobbyist by habit
A record collector
Guitar amp inspector

Fixing up the house
Working on the garden
Last jobs unfinished
But the next one is starting

Pawn shop customer
Price think then confer
Little things to fill space
Little tools just in case
Like the notepad in his pocket
Names jotted down not forgotten
A record collector
Guitar amp inspector

 

Tending the Flock

Posted: February 16, 2014 in nostalgia

I got three paperclips
I got three Chinese coins-
I know what I’ve been collecting
But I don’t know where I’m going…

I know the basics of my life
But I don’t know the scheme-
No matter how happy I am
It seems I’m missing something-

Whether I’m going to sleep hungry
Or the weather’s got me hibernating-
Drugs have got my brain in a cage
And I just keep creating-

You can’t stop me
I’m the canary in your coal mine-
Cause if I die
then the world knows it’s high time-

To figure out the merchant wars
And confused policies-
Before we lose our gurus
Like kids losing baby teeth-

Reading the paper
Realize nothing’s changed-
People still swallowing pills
With raised text brandnames-

I wanna say the world could change
But maybe I’m just to stupid-
If we need a new god than maybe
We should choose cupid-

An arrow in the bow
Random love in your hearts-
Hear the twang, feel the pang
Then the new world order starts-

TO ELEVATOR MUSIC WE DANCE
LIKE ZOMBIE ELEPHANTS
WE NEVER FORGET
WE GOT NOSTALGIA STITCHED INTO OUR PANTS

IT’S A HELL OF A WAY TO DO IT
BUT YES THE WORLD IS ENDING
SO JOIN IN THE FESTIVAL
THE FESTIVAL OF PRETENDING!

TENDING THE FLOCK…(i said i’m tending the flock)

I used to think I was a teacher
But I see that I’m just a sheppard-
Teaching the lesson
forgotten faster than leopards-

While we’re changing our spots
camouflage the chameleon-
The poor get restless
And the rich just steal again-

Struggle with a living death
over your shoulder-
The summers heat up
while the winters are getting colder-

And I’m older
More fearful, I’m terrified-
My chances of making it
just get more rarefied-

When you know you’re a prototype
maybe even missing parts?
Definitely an out-layer
laying way off the charts-

The doctor looks confused
the therapists freak out-
While I obsessively
OCD geek out-

Money’s running low
debt keeps on piling-
No funds for make-overs
or re-styling-

So I guess I’ll stay the same
while the public dumbs down-
Wasting their votes on some
punk Ivy-league clown-

TO ELEVATOR MUSIC WE DANCE
LIKE ZOMBIE ELEPHANTS
WE NEVER FORGET
WE GOT NOSTALGIA STITCHED INTO OUR PANTS

IT’S A HELL OF A WAY TO DO IT
BUT YES THE WORLD IS ENDING
SO JOIN IN THE FESTIVAL
THE FESTIVAL OF PRETENDING!

So the future turned out to suck
Nobody’s flying any cars-
I got no floating skateboard
No silver clothes or colony on mars-

I guess we got the video phone
But who really cares-
So I can see your face
But you ain’t got no implants or purple hair-

I’m just a sci-fi obsessed fan
You can hear me future pining-
Cause since the internet hit
Culture’s being stuck in the nineteen nineties-

All our music sounds the same
Auto-tuned gangster pop shit-
The electronic craze has made
The youth soulless and killed the mosh pit-

The economy is weak
No bullet trains for North America-
Concentrated wealth corruption
Coke-head Wall Street ain’t sharing it-

And the technocrats
Just find new ways into our heads-
3-D D-Box cinema propaganda
Social networks and anti-depressants-

I wish I could live in the future
Depicted in an eighties film-
New Hollywood ain’t looking so good
All the futures they show so grim-

I guess most people are satisfied
With the power of their cellphones-
They don’t have the same nightmares I have
Of being chased by a drone-

SO WAKE ME UP
WHEN I’M MARTY MCFLY
WHEN THE NEW CORVETTES FILL THE SKY
WHEN I CAN MAKE A GIRL
WITH MY HOME COMPUTER
SO WE CAN VACATION ON MARS OR THE MOON

SO WAKE ME UP
WHEN THERE’S REPLICATORS
WHEN HUMANITY UNITES TO FIGHT
THE SPACE INVADERS
WHEN I CAN USE MY MIND TO BEND A SPOON
AND THEY’VE BUILT AN ELEVATOR
TO THE MOON

So the future didn’t quite turn out
As I thought as a kid-
Where’s all the robots doing the labor
Fighting for their right to exist?-

Why does is seem like
Nothing’s really going on-
No more people on the moon
Or VR sims like in that movie Tron-

What edge did we loose?
Was it the cold war ending?-
Cause we got no one to race with
Did we just stop pretending?-

Cause we used to think
Our progress was damn near unstoppable-
That things are gonna look like Blade Runner
In five years, that is improbable-

Po-Mo Cultural Eulogy

Posted: January 10, 2014 in madness, modern life, nostalgia

Don’t tell me post-modern is dead
I will kill you silent with whatever
you try to replace it with-
Post-Modern is a Post reality
a mostly salient feeling gleened
from the pages of GQ collage
cut up with Maxim and PopTeen.

Don’t tell me you’ve lost your faith
in the impending CRASH!
that you’ve gone back to wanting cash and a stash-
that your skeptical bubble never burst
and you have no spiritual thirst for I can see it written
In your voice that you are parched and hungry for a paradigm
Shift change a clear the eye
mystical stage set like an ideology smogasborg
you want some options
captions that read past the Borgs “Resistance is Futile!”
because if you insist on being puerile and vain
than the mainframe may just stay the same
but no, let’s shoot! take aim and REBOOT!

Incoming game, make your avatar
and play as the new you!
because the next world can never be a worser one
than the one your curser floats over

For sure they have many ailments of different names-
but failsafes were put in place by philosophers like yours truly-
may i offer you a tour of our schools newly renovatedIn the antiquated eighty’s fashion of big shoulder pads and pink?

I think there for I spend
Don’t tell me the economy apocalypse
Is the end.
For I see only beginnings
Post Modern Ludracrus!
mind drivrivel and winning!

My money is still spinning
above my head in this simulation
open world MMO matrix-
pay as you go there’s no place like home

say it

its freemium and its unlimited

imagination re-pastiche from the last 30 years
californian snake tail eaters leavings

we live in a board room decision culture
meme bombs and its glorious living-
It’s not over- it’s barely begun-
come to me in twenty years
and bring your gun loaded tears
and see if your fears have festered
into a postmodern cesspool-

For I say YOU are the FOOL
for calling me crazy-
“I may have been born yesterday
but I stayed up all night BABY!!”
With the tubes glued to my pupils-
a pupil of the cubicle age
the rubrics cube of fame gods
and the grandiose game
that nobody wins
BUT THOSE GOD DAMN APES!!!

so don’t tell me post modern is dead.
i’ll write the eulogy in my head.

silently.

Old Pain Home

Posted: May 13, 2013 in nostalgia
Tags: , ,

Nostalgia

Greek roots

For going home

Mixed with pain.

I eat at A & W

Not for the fifties muzak

Or the black and white

Bear mascot with beach model pin-ups

But because my father

Used to take me there.