1. |
Swampers At Fame
04:17
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SWAMPERS AT FAME
I want the swampers at fame, but I’ll settle for that laptop, boys
Caught in a hurricane, almost everything’s background noise
At night I ride the rails but I wake up tied to the track
And when those sad winds wail, I wake up a second time from that
I was a rodeo legend, 23 in ‘87 just a saddle bum
Now I’m a long, tall daddy riding south for Tallahassee on a cattle run
I drive a Maxima...
I want the swampers at fame, but I’ll settle for that laptop, boys
Caught in a hurricane, almost everything’s background noise
At night I ride the rails but I wake up tied to the track
And when those sad winds wail, I wake up a second time from that
You were a piss poor beauty in a thrift store, ooh we figured fuck ‘em all
Mariana to Missoula, everybody knew that you were just a wrecking ball
And only 5 foot tall…
I tried to take you away
Even though I knew you wouldn’t stay
Now I think about you every day
Wishing there was something I could say
I want the swampers at fame, but I’ll settle for that laptop, boys
Caught in a hurricane, almost everything’s background noise
At night I ride the rails but I wake up tied to the track
And when those sad winds wail, I wake up a second time from that
I never wanted any daughter but I love her more than anything I’ve ever loved
And now you’re headed for the border, hoping you can find the water of the seven doves
Conquistadores dug…
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2. |
Working
04:45
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WORKING
I’ve been working
All my days
Took every job
That came my way
Spent the money that I made
I get old, but oh, I don’t age
I seem to smile
But I feel the rage
And I bow and scrape
No more
Self deprecate
No more
No more will I make
The same mistakes I made before
Teacher told me
To behave
Daddy taught me
To be brave
Supervisor pays my wage
He may work
But oh, he don’t slave
I see the light
But I feel the cage
And I bow and scrape
No more
Self deprecate
No more
No more will I make
The same mistakes I made before
Lately I’ve been pulling doubles
Keeping out of trouble, when I can
Thoughts are running through my brain
Though I try I can’t explain
What makes a man a man…oh…
Love to gamble, hate to shave
Live to ramble, not to bathe
My lady loves me just the same
We make love and oh…they complain
She knows my melodies
I sing her refrains
And I bow and scrape
No more
Self deprecate
No more
No more will I make
The same mistakes I made before
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3. |
Killing Clark Kent
03:21
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KILLING CLARK KENT
I Give ‘em Clark Kent…
Because They Can’t Handle Superman X 3
Some day I’ll slip inside a phone booth
Show ‘em who I really am
Yeah I’m a mean mutherfucker
I’m the baddest man that you’ve ever seen
But Lois baby when you wear those kryptonite earrings
I feel so weak
I ain’t a farm boy…but I came down from the sky X3
Yeah I’m from a foreign land
But I’m American as apple pie
I’m strong enough to move a planet
God damn it why can’t I get it right?
And if my body’s indestructible
Than why am I so lonely at night?
I can’t afford rent
Because they can’t handle superman
Lost my apartment
Because they can’t handle superman
I’m on a park bench
Because they can’t handle superman
I think it’s time to find a phone booth
Realign my battle plan
I’ll throw a mini cooper to ya, Lex Luther
Man you better get down
‘Cause when you’re messin’ with the man of steel
I’ll put your body back in the ground
I’m killing Clark Kent
I only answer to Superman
Ain’t no more Clark Kent
I only answer to Superman
That little Clark Kent
He ain’t nothin’ to Superman
You can go ahead and miss him
Mohterfucker I don’t give a damn
I Give ‘em Clark Kent…
Because They Can’t Handle Superman X 3
Some day I’ll slip inside a phone booth
Show ‘em who I really am
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4. |
Garden Full Of Medicine
02:59
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GARDEN FULL OF MEDICINE
I got a garden full of medicine, it’s all I need
Ain’t nothing that I can’t cure with a few sunflower seeds
There’s iron in the beans and zinc in my collard greens
Sweet relief; for my disease
So darlin’, eat with me
I got a garden full of miracles, it’s all I need
Water into wine, fertilizer to black eyed peas
The meadow is a salad bowl where the cows eat for free
Sweet relief; for my disease
So darlin’, eat with me
The best things in life are free
Like vitamins and minerals and harmony…
I got a pocket full of metaphors, it’s all I need
Plant them in the earth and grow my poetry
The flies are surprised but the little worms know it’s me
Sweet relief; for my disease
So darlin’, eat with me…oh darlin’….
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5. |
Javelinas
02:45
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JAVALINAS (with chords)
C F C
Little javelina where do you roam
G C
You gotta find food cause you’r momma’s all gone
C F C
Little javelin where do you play
G C
Your up too late cause your baba’s away
F C
Javelina, Javelina
G F C
Your little brown snout like a water can spout
F C
Javelin, Javelina
G F C
I want to take you home but you’d eat all my clothes
Little Javelina I see you scratch
Your best friend Sadie with the side of your back
Little Javelina I see you fight
With your Javelina brother on a warm spring night
Chorus
Little Javelina what is your name?
I don’t care if it’s hard to say (make oinking noises)
Little Javelina one day I’ll sing
My song to your little javelin offspring
Chorus
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6. |
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THE BEASTLY BALLAD OF TRAIN-WRECK MOSSADEGH
Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest
I’m a bad, bad boy
I shot those suckers and I’ll shoot the rest
But I take no joy
They call me Johnny-lee
Rock-n-roll
Hooker with a heart of gold
Baby I’m’a do what I please
They call me train-wreck Mossaddegh
Heavy hangin’ to the left
Baby I’m’a do what I please
Woah-oh, woah-ohhhhh…
Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest
I shot those suckers and I’ll shoot the rest
Most illinest B-boy
I got that feelin’
I am most ill
And I’m rhymin’ and steelin’
Ali Baba and the fourty thieves
I’m a bad, bad boy
Now that’s my great-grandfather so you best believe
I’m a bad, bad boy
I am a red alert, Terror-threat
Martial law is in effect
Lover, if you know what I mean
I am a purple heart, work of art
Sleepin’ in a city park
Lover so you better come clean
Woah-oh, woah-ohhhhh…
Ali Baba and the fourty thieves
Now that’s my great-grandfather so you best believe
Most illinest B-boy
I got that feelin’
I am most ill
And I’m rhymin’ and steelin’
Their pistols are loaded, they shot Abu-bakr
They’re some bad, bad boys
So I threw Colonel Sanders into
Davy Jones locker
Man I had no choice
I’m on a rashidun honeymoon
Gotta make some money soon
Baby I got bills to pay
I’m on a rebel yell, kiss and tell
Tell ‘em all to go to hell
Mission so get out of my way
Woah-oh, woah-ohhhhh…
Pistols are loaded, they shot Abu-bakr
So I threw Colonel Sanders into Davy Jones locker
Most illinest B-boy
I got that feelin’
I am most ill
And I’m rhymin’ and steelin’
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7. |
Saffron Stew
03:36
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Saffron Stew
Fishbone fry
Double-yolk egg
Saffron stew
Honey pie babe
Hometown hickory
Walking on a rickety
Bridge on a river
When the road gets sick of me
Sad old cook
Paperback book
Wanna hang his old hat but he can’t stay put
Flame on the pot real low
Gonna cook it real slow (x 4)
Hominy hash
Rappe pie blues
Bowl full of soul and a
Head full of tunes
Midnight trickery
Cook a pot of fricassee
Fast with the devil
‘Cause he’s so damned finicky
fly all night on a midnight flight
I think I will but I know I might
City lights shine below
Gonna cook it real slow (x 4)
[bridge]
I poached my heart in vinegar
To see how it would feel
I think I need a minister
To help me plan the meal…
Oh…
Sycamore soup
Pickle juice jam
Peanut butter cookie
with a pretty suntan
Grey-eyed sugarpie
Every time I make her cry,
Let her wipe her boogers on my jeans and my levis
5 AM at the family farm
the rooster crows at the break of dawn
turn all the lights down low
Gonna cook it real slow (x 4)
[musical breakdown]
heartbreak bread
buttermilk roux
ain’t no telling
what a man gon’ do
sky high
sugar pie
got a lot of people I love…
And I love you
I love you
But I’m gonna let my love light glow
Gonna cook it real slow (x 4)
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8. |
Flight 2000
02:30
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FLIGHT 2000
Flight 2000, it’s might arousing
When I reach in my trousers
And I pull out a quarter
You were out of order
Now you’re hotter than ever
And I’m crazy about you
I’m a pinball wizard
That high score’s MY score
Nobody can touch it
So don’t even try
I light your letters up
Knock my ball into your cup
Then I B-L-A-S-T
O-F-F into the sky
Ohhh Flight 2000, you’re a Maltese falcon
With a NASA flier and a bonus multiplier
Your rockets are ready and my paddles are steady
When I aim at your spinner and I dial up a winner
I play every day in the lobby of the Martin
As all my friends walk by
They never stop and chat
They just pat me on the back
Got no time for conversation
It would kill my concentration
Flight Two-Oh-Oh-Oh I hit three in a row-oh
Now it’s all systems “go” I’m like Leonard Nemo-oy
I’m like Spock in the cockpit
I blast off in my rocket
As I hit the final target like a brown Davey Crockett
I lift the fifth ball through the rings of Saturn
Glory will be mine
But hey – what’s going on?
I think I hit the bumper wrong
Saying words no man should utter
As it rolls into the gutter…
Aw well...
Pack Man I love you you’re the game for me
‘cause pinball is for losers.
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9. |
Oh, Satan
04:05
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OH, SATAN
Oh Satan, Oh Satan, why are you…so blue…tonight?
Oh Satan, Oh Satan, why are you…so blue…tonight?
When you looked at me with those firey eyes I must admit I was a bit suprisesd to see…that we…we through
Is your heart broken in a thousand places, ever since you found the human race in love with someone new?
Oh Satan, Oh Satan, why are you…so blue…tonight?
We grew up together in a small town
the weather there didn’t suit your clothes
I watched you leave on a cold September day
And where you’ve gone no one knows
Oh Satan, Great Satan, why are you…so blue…tonight? Tonight…tonight…
Well I know they beat you when you acted wild, spare the pain they say you spoil the child but ah…those days are through
I hear you hummin’ when you’re feeling fine, “a friend of the devil is a friend of mine” da da, da da, da dum…
Now you’ve got it all, living the good life
Raking that money with your fists
But I can’t forget those days of love and life and laughter
Even though we were only kids
Oh Satan, Great Satan, why are you…so blue…tonight? Tonight…tonight…
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Muhammad Seven & The Spring New York, New York
M7 is a blue collar Americana songwriter hailing from Boston, MA and currently living in the Finger Lakes region of New York. The son of an Iranian immigrant father and French-Canadian mother, he and his music were born in the fallout of the '79 Islamic Revolution and the Regan/Bush era, and draw influences from '60s protest music, '70s rock and roll, '80s pop, '90s hip hop and 20th century folk. ... more
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