don't look up to the stars

heaven protect 

children and sailors

sailors and drunken men

somewhere past the Kuiper belt

past the ring of babies unbaptized

where a star is just any star

that's where you'll see her

curled in smoke

don't look up to the stars

this nothing is permanent

this one is burning

(this one is burning so bright)

this one is glowing

(this one will not last the night)

the only forever is 

a nothing about nothingness

but that was all

before your time

this one's a baby

(this one is burning so bright)

this one is dying

(this one will not last the night)

the light in your eyes is

a prehistoric instinct

but that was all

before your time

this one exploded

(this one is burning so bright)

this one's forever

(this one will not last the night)

that star was extinguished

a million years ago

but that was all

before your time

heaven protect 

children and sailors 

sailors and drunken men 

listening station

[[ a song about the internet, in two voices, one robotic ]] 

voice 1	voice 2 (an electronic chorus)
I used to watch you picture yourself
something so pretty for others to see
I used to read you holding forth
you thought you knew how we mortals should be
this is your listening station this is your listening station this is your listening station	repeat repeat
where have you gone,  little-miss-six?	little-miss-six
are you still there, mister-28-flavors?	mister-28-flavors
silent-witness-496. are you still on the line?	silent-witness-496
this is your listening station this is your listening station this is your listening station	repeat repeat
are you waiting for me, penelope-8128-antelope?	penelope- eight thousand, one hundred  twenty-eight -antelope
did you find happiness, felicity-33550336	felicity- thirty-three million, five hundred fifty thousand, three hundred  thirty-six
this is your listening station this is your listening station this is your listening station	repeat repeat
come in from the world maximilian-8589869056	maximilian- eight billion, five hundred eighty-nine million, eight hundred sixty-nine thousand, fifty-six
how did you live, johnny-137438691328?	johnny- one hundred thirty-seven billion, four hundred thirty-eight million, six hundred ninety-one thousand, three hundred twenty-eight
send us a sign queenie-2305843008139952128	queenie- two quintillion, three hundred five quadrillion, eight hundred forty-three trillion, eight billion, one hundred thirty-nine million, nine hundred fifty-two thousand, one hundred twenty-eight
make up your mind undecidable-2658455991569831 744654692615953842176	undecidable- two undecillion, six hundred fifty-eight decillion, four hundred fifty-five nonillion, nine hundred ninety-one octillion, five hundred sixty-nine septillion, eight hundred thirty-one sextillion, seven hundred forty-four quintillion, six hundred fifty-four quadrillion, six hundred ninety-two trillion, six hundred fifteen billion, nine hundred fifty-three million, eight hundred forty-two thousand, one hundred seventy-six

[[ 

wistful

nostalgic
distant

people (or "people") vanished from social media, blogs, everywhere online

the immense numbers to emphasize a number of things -- distance, number of people, connections, operations, absurdity, anonymity, encryption, infinity, meaninglessness

as part of their online names, use perfect numbers for some reason. because they're perfect?

make them increasingly long

and finish by just reading out the long numbers

]]

the beach

used to be a beach here

we played in the sand

you'd never know now

without being told

hey, shut up, grandpa

everyone knows that

it's all your fault for

being so old

hey, shut up, grandpa

why don't you go and

dig your own grave and

jump in the hole

hey, shut up, grandpa

we're all so young and

we're all so smart for

being so young

nobody young was ever dumb

used to be peace here

we lay in the grass

you'd never know now

without being old

hey, shut up, grandpa

it's all your fault for 

having been born and

living too soon

hey, shut up, grandpa

here's a new product 

we hope will let us

move to the moon

hey, shut up, grandpa

here's a new model

throw out the old one

things'll be fine

nobody young was ever dumb

last scene

[[ Roughly based on a local girl who disappeared forever walking home alone from a night out. There is security video of her walking down the seaside promenade in the very early light just before she vanished. ]]

last seen walking 

home from Friday

home from anger

phone running down

barefoot sidewalk

swinging her shoes

within the sound of 

waves coming down

coming home late like that

barefoot and wobbling

you will be the talk of the town

almost morning 

bathing in strange light

almost daylight

bathing in almost day

what is the color 

of this time? 

this blue hour? 

this golden hour?

stepping through the singing of first birds

stepping through echoes on empty streets

stepping through air, through morning dew, 

wet street lamps, 

wet windows, 

wet shining cars,

stepping through air, through morning dew, 

like nothing could ever

unmolested

I'm not a talker 

but tonight 

we can talk

let's get outside and 

find a place 

we can walk 

let's find a place we can walk back time 

let's find a place we can walk unmolested

if it's not too late 

if it's not too late 

i am swimming and breathing in this atmosphere

maybe just one more beer 

let me bend your ear

i am gasping and grasping collapsing in this atmosphere

let's get right out of here
let me lend you an arm, my dear

now where were we?

[[ a song about how we try to find and describe our own consciousness ]]

now where were we?

the parts of the thing
try to trace
the shape of the thing

a beam of light
tries to see
the source of the light

the wind in the air
wants to know
the sun and the air

we are
nowhere in particular, we are
a bend in the road, we are
a draft through a door, we are
the iridescence of fly, we are
an eddy in a river running down to the end of all time

now where were we?

Bluebird Matchbox

[[ A transformation of an actual childhood visit to relatives in Dundee and Perth. The long wait for adults to finish visiting grows to an evolutionary scale. The Bluebird Matchbox (actually a Corgi, says the internet) was produced to keep me or my brother or both of us busy while adults talked for the last time. ]]

In childhood I am guided in

to meet the ancient Britons known

to other ancient Britons then

as Helen, Bunty, Joe. All gone.

They are all shades of vein and chalk

and pebbledash and cardigan

and close-cut grass and gravel walk

and kindly smiles all wired in.

I play while they discover fire 

and pour a drink to warm their skins,

and ages pass while they admire  

how fingers grow where once were fins.

You can know nothing

[[ This started from two episodes in Ryszard Kapuściński, The Shadow of the Sun, and his description of how there is little in the way of twilight in Africa -- it is light and then BANG it is dark, and then, twelve hours later, BANG, it is light again. But I have let something of the ambiguous and possible hints of the metaphysical or epistemological creep into it. ]]

You can know nothing

before and after.

On the way to Kumase,

our bus stops somewhere.

A woman gathers to herself her children.

She rests her bowl upon her head

and walks into the trees.

You can know nothing

before and after.

When the sun comes up,

there is no prelude to rising.

This is the old adventure.

On the Serengeti,

our truck has a flat.

Lions rest round shreds of antelope.

They watch us half an hour, then rise

and walk into the grass.

You can know nothing

before and after.

When the sun goes down,

it is gone.

This is the old adventure.

intentional love song 11: astronomical passenger

[[ a song about going no place fast but together ]]

astronomical passenger you

astronomical passenger me

tilted and whirling

one thousand

miles an hour

round this planet

round the equator

every day

astronomical passenger you

astronomical passenger me

tilted and whirling

sixty-seven thousand

miles an hour

round this sun

tilted and whirling

every year

tilted and whirling

tilted and whirling

springsummerautumnwinter

springsummerautumnwinter

springsummerautumnwinter

spring

astronomical passenger you

astronomical passenger me

tilted and whirling

four hundred ninety thousand

miles an hour

round this galaxy

until we are gone

until miles and hours are gone

Jack Robinson

[[ using all manner of cliche and a repetitive first line as the rhyme to tell the story of a man on a corner who saw another man die ]]

Man was standing here

before my own eyes

this was before your time

Man was standing here

stabbed in the back

before you could say knife

Man was standing here

straight in the eye

saw his soul leave his body

Man was standing here

then he was down forever

you could cut the atmosphere

Man was standing here

never learned his name

he was here and then he was gone

the meanness of work

They put up new buildings
as fast as they can
tear down the old ones.

One fall, one morning,
one more old building
with that ornate facade

is fenced in and blasted,
pulled down on its face,
and just trucked away.

Spring come the excavators,
cranes, steel and glass,
then twenty empty stories.

not this fucking time of year again

[[ musically, a Christmas carol ]]

[[ this part in imitation of bells ]] 

not this 

fucking 

time of 

year a-

gain

[[ the sound of a church choir ]] 

all the skies are gray and lifeless (gray and lifeless)

all the winds are sharp and cold (sharp and cold)

all the roads are wet and icy (wet and icy)

all my bones 

two hundred six! 

the pops and clicks! 

the cracks and cricks! 

are so old

someone else's strange religion (strange religion)

someone else's hopes and fears (hopes and fears)

someone else's gongs and jangles (gongs and jangles)

someone's god 

three-headed -- weird!

one mainly beard!

all of them feared!

in my ears... [[ quiet, crescendo, and then the bang ]]

Bang! all the metal in your towers!

See if I fucking care 

Bang! all the metal in your towers!

Give all the birds a scare 

[[ a chorus imitating bells and singing in bell terms rather than Latin ]]

peal [[ repeated with combinations of the others ]]

nominal

quint

tierce

prime

hum [[ let this one be the last and lowest tone still ringing ]]

I had an oracle

[[ It starts with a reductive yammer on life and then switches to a favorite theme of mine, Bede's sparrow. The first half is written in short chunks to be sung line by line, each almost independent of the lines before and after it. Then a shift to longer lines, slower rhythm, and all of it is the reported speech of the oracle. "She said..." ]]

I had an oracle 

tell it to me:

past, present, future --

all she could see.

There wasn't much,

all much the same.

We're all alike.

It's all a game.

I'll live and die,

and, in between,

be a regular guy.

Be a regular guy.

She said 

there was a sparrow

flew in one window

of a great hall,

a feast before a fire.

She said 

there was a sparrow

warm for a moment

in the fire light

and flew across the room.

She said 

there was a sparrow 

there for the moment,

that space of time,

then out another window and gone.

I had an oracle 

tell it to me:

past, present, future --

all she could see.

out-of-town news

[[ I am far from where I grew up and I am old enough that people are starting to die. I check the old hometown paper online for obituaries of anyone I might know. ]]

Been out of touch
with everyone for ages
ever since our changes came

Check the hometown news
obituary pages
just looking out for my name

Will it be me?
Will it be you?
Who'll feel the loss the worst?

Will it be you?
Will it be me?
Whose heart is going?
Whose heart is going to go first?

Look at their stories:
he fished weekends,
she was known to talk and cook.

Now surrounded by family,
surrounded by old friends,
all having one last good look.


Will it be me?
Will it be you?
Who feels the loss the worst?

Will it be you?
Will it be me?
Whose heart is going?
Whose heart is going to go first?

space is for robots

[[ it's... ok, it's a song sung by the robots to the humans as the robots leave Earth and humanity behind forever ]]

================================
[[space section]]

This is a song about space, space and robots.
First, let us sing about space.

space is a distance, a darkness, a nothing,
much more a time than a place

space is the years between here, here and somewhere,
here and your next human breath

space is forever and airless and soundless
how is that different from death?

================================
[[robots section]]

space is for robots
robots don't eat, don't shit,
don't drink, don't breathe,
robots
don't sleep... don't sleep... don't sleep... don't sleep... don't sleep... don't

|: don't die of boredom :|  x 10000000 (in an endless fugue)

robots don't ask "are we there? are we there yet?"
robots know: we're always here
robots don't care if they never see home again
robots have never known fear

robots are made for alone and forever
robots can wait for the light
robots can sleep until morning when morning
is when the next star is in sight

================================
[[ farewell to people section ]]

A song about robots and space, never people;
people cost more than they're worth.
And just when you think you've had
more than enough of them,
people give birth.

People insist on that breathing and drinking,
on setting thermometers just so
People can stay at home fighting and stinking
Robots have miles to go.

No air to breathe where we're going to, human.
Stay home and tend to your flock.
Stay home and think of us racing towards light speed
Stay home and unwind the clock.

================================ 

skin me alive

skin me a live animal

what I want is to wear its camouflage
what I want is to wear its fur
what I want is to hear it screaming
while I purr

skin me a live animal

what I want is more juice in the vein
what I want is more smoke in the lung
what I want is to wear the animal
skin and fuck

skin me a live animal

take me to Vienna, you fool, and immediately
take me while a shop girl looks me in the eye
take me to the dead end of some other century
take me exactly to midnight, then leave me to die

[[ 

1. With obvious play on "skin me a live animal" and "skin me alive, animal". 

2. The narrator possibly is not a native speaker and may have fallen out of a time machine. She is louche, one-eyed, absinthed. 

3. I don't know why any of this. I think someone wants back to fin de siècle Vienna. Someone with a lust for blood and a lust for lust. And one clouded eye? 

]]

A Coin Toss

This 1943 Mercury dime

will circle our sun

to the end of our time

Ladies, a toast:

to the end of our time

...then I settled down

with a boy from a town,

a town crumbled into the sea...

there will never be another story

this is how all stories end

...that was the time

of the Mercury dime

round the far side of the sun...

there will never be another story

this is how all stories end

...out of the sun

came a man with a gun

whirling a circle of heat...

there will never be another story

this is how all stories end

...that was the day

that she melted away

fell off the edge of the world...

there will never be another story

this is how all stories end

This 1943 Mercury dime

will circle our sun

to the end of our time

Ladies, a toast:

to the end of our time

Circle the sun

to the end of our time

[[ It's intentionally disjointed. An astronaut has failed to settle something with a coin toss using an old shining silver Mercury dime that got away and is tumbling through space, glinting with each rotation. Well, that's part of the story. There is loss in the images, and a gunman. Three or four story lines hinted at. Only the images and emotions matter. ]]

give up the ghost

[[ What can this mean? The narrator's nervous system is haunted. ]]

give up the ghost

= = = = =

little ghost

I know you're in there

the light is soft

the tem-per-a-ture is 

in-ex-pli-ca-bly low

this sound is mind

this sound is mind

this sound is mind

this sound is mind

rest, little ghost

= = = = =

another day 

the little ghost returns

returns with little friends

each little ghost 

is in my spine

swim-ming in 

my spi-nal-flu-id

swimming through 

each after each

the rings of bone 

my vertebrae

a circus trick -

hop through the hoop

each after each

a ring of bone 

a ring of bone 

a ring of bone 

a ring of bone 

a ring of bone 

as if a school 

of little fish

each little ghost 

swims up my spine

and waits beneath 

the inland sea

open mouthed

open, close

oh oh oh oh

= = = = =

I clasp my hands 

and peek inside

aha!

another ghost is here

where have you been?

Orion & the Seven Sisters

[[ I think that's it. I thought about adding more. But that's enough. It's a longing song. You could sing the chorus again at the end. ]]

1.

She has lived all the seven sins 

on the seven seas

but shipwrecked herself
in the Far Ambiguities

Stranded herself between 

the one and the other,

she's married a stranger,

run off with his brother,

then walked out on him 

in the middle of a ham and cheese.

2. 

She has places to be, and men 

tend to hold a girl down

So she stands in the door after dark 

in her slippers and gown. 

She already knows 

she'll be gone before Christmas 

She just needs a night 

when there won't be a witness

Except for the stars that are rising up

over the town.

Chorus

When the cold days come

and Orion is hung 

in the sky

When the birds have flown

and no one is home

in the night

She will go with the hunter 

a sword on his belt

They will chase the seven sisters 

until time runs out

They will chase across the sky 

until time runs out

Lunar Blues

[slow, relaxed, romantic]
All we have in common
is that moon pasted yellow on the sky
All we have in common
is that moon pasted yellow on the sky
Better get to what we came for
'Fore we tell that yellow moon goodbye.

Close the window to the night air
The birds will all be singing soon
Close the window to the night air
The birds will all be singing soon
And don't forget to pull the curtains
on that sneaky old man in the moon.

[a bit faster...]
Baby, watch the clock
Time runs faster than you fear
Baby, watch the clock
Time runs faster than you fear
Better check your almanac
The shortest evening of the year

[vinegar strokes instrumental]

[resolution]
I will slip out your window
and head down the road with the moon
I will slip out your window
and head down the road with the moon
but I won't forget you, honey,
or this moon in June soon...

[[ then back to the top and fade ]]