Well I guess this is growing up...

I think it's a sign of maturity that I now appreciate the cookie portion of an Oreo so much more than I used to.

Where You Gonna Run?

A young boy on the beach in the winter,
His eyes to the sky and his toes in the sand
He stands ready at the edge of the water
With the smooth of the stone in the palm of his hand
He can not help bu think about, wonder:
the possibility of reaching her door
And while he knows all the laws that oppose him,
the thought of the rock on the ocean floor

Where you gonna run, where you gonna hide
Whatchoo gonna think about with nothing on your mind
Who you gonna trust, who you gonna doubt
When you're outside and you can't run out
Whatchoo gonna say, whatchoo gonna do
Who you gonna talk to, who you gonna talk to
Who's gonna talk to you
How could you believe in something you were never seeing
Now you're dying to agree to a situation you can't prove

Part afraid of the current situation,
A little unsure of the consequence
But confident that in the moment he was breathing
He couldn't lose a thing that he didn't have yet
Eyes closed and a heart wide open
He fired that stone to the middle of the sea
He didn't know, would it go where he wanted,
But it would surely end up where it needed to be

The small ripple it created in the ocean,
It grew larger over days and days
And like a feeling oh it grew so quickly,
And like emotion it became a great wave
That traveled far over earth and water,
And moved on with no remorse
Back home he was shrugging his shoulders,
The stone's weight was a cure and a source

Where you gonna run, where you gonna hide
Whatchoo gonna think about with nothing on your mind
Who you gonna trust, who you gonna doubt
When you're outside and you can't run out
Whatchoo gonna say, whatchoo gonna do
Who you gonna talk to, who you gonna talk to
Who's gonna talk to you
How could you believe in something you were never seeing
Now you're dying to agree to a situation you can't prove

See the moment of the recent situation
Was all right but the timing was wrong
And so I'm standing at the edge of the water,
Casting my stone in the form of a song
And maybe waves are just a little more subtle
than the words that I've written in the lines of this tune
I couldn't take the chance of water freezing over
When the sun goes down and the winter takes June

Four

Monday mornings are tough enough. This particular Monday morning, I was greeted with "Hey B, can you believe it? Today's your four year anniversary.

Four years. Fours year. Four. Years. Of my life. Four years of my early and mid twenties. Four years of progressively less hair, less chance of a second growth spurt, less chance of being influential in any way at a "young age", or being rich at a young age. Four years.

I was 21 when I started working here? Should I have taken those words of wisdom from a coworker when, right after college, I started working a desk job: "Hey. Get the hell outta here. What are you doing? You just finished school. You're young. No family to support, no mortgage, no car payments... nothing. You're free. You've got the rest of your life to work."

I'm at that point that I committed to four years ago where I've saved a few bucks, gotten my feet planted in the music world, and am ready to do what I want to do.

Not for Nothing

Not for nothing, but for four years I have worked in a sales office where euphemisms, proverbs, and mix and matched idioms. I decided to channel my fuming hatred for sayings like "it is what it is" and "well, there are a couple ways you can skin an egg without letting a goose out of the bag" and make a song out of it. Wanna hear it? Here it goes:

Not For Nothing
After a lifetime of walking on glass
Stepping on everybody's toes
Dancing on eggshells don't seem so bad
So long as everybody knows
You've grown too big for the boots that you own
Footnotes are all you can sing

A mile in my shoes is a feat you would lose
But oh no, not for nothing

An ounce of prevention's a pounds worth of cure
And bigger is better so they say
And maybe it's true that patience is a virtue
And good things'll find you if you wait
Sooner is better than later I hear
But only a fool rushes in

Both you and I are a victim of time
But oh, no not for nothing

If wishes were horses then beggers would ride
Trying to find rainbows and gold
While others are working their fingers to the bone
It's hard as nails selling your soul
We're going down in a big lead ballon
Caught in a fatal tail spin

I realize we're all dropping like flies
But oh no, not for nothing

If I had a penny for every time
You speak to help ease my mind
I'd have more sense than the good lord himself
But your word ain't worth a dime
I wanna be where there's money on trees
So talk wouldn't have to be so cheap
And eating your words is so hard to afford
If you really are what you eat

Biting off more than can be chewed by one man
Oh no, not for nothing
Lord I can see your tongue tied in your cheek
Oh no, not for nothing
At the end of the day, whatever you say
Oh no, not for nothing

The Jokers Stand

The idea of a world run by clowns like my friends and me blows my mind. I am almost certain we would destroy the planet due to a lack of discipline, respect, and order. But if you write a song about that, you end up sounding an awful lot like Twisted Sister. And nobody wants that. Nobody. Take that same idea, have it take place somewhere deep in the annals of histroy, inject it with a medieval vernacular, and it almost sounds respectable. Premise: World falls apart when run by jokers. Jack up the metaphor of "playing around" by making a playing card analogy of said feudal system - just in case it wasn't obvious enough. You know, "dealing" with "jokers" and all. Here's a start...

Jokers Fall / House of Cards

Kings are walking through the croft and guard the market square
Locking peasants up in stocks while queens watch from upstairs
And over all the madness as the knaves they sharpen knives
Pacing, waiting for the day when they'll lay down their lives
The only two refusing suits who sit above the court
A pair of jokers living high above a trembling floor

In the distance from the bastion
Rising danger draws attraction
Soon enough this chain reaction
Attacks them at their door

And trick by trick the games you play
Will bring you down
And brick by brick this house of cards
Is coming down

Nipples on my chest, I got nipples on my chest...

Recently I have been toying with the idea for a song that is a hip-hop, rap-style sing-a-long with a refrain that goes something like this:

Nipples on my chest,
Nipples on my chest,
I got nipples on my chest
Nipples on my chest

Nipples on my chest,
Nipples on my chest,
I got nipples on my chest
Nipples on my chest

I feel very strongly that the words are simple enough for even the newest, least interested crowd member to remember. And it gets stuck in your head.

I am currently being reminded of this by the Russian guy in my office who wears thin dress shirts with no undershirt. Those large brown circles are ruining my day. They're like huge pregnant pimples about to explode through the skin that is his sateen, fitted, Geoffrey Beene shirt.