1. |
The Nearest Nothing
02:57
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words & music by John Kimsey / John Kimsey Tunes, ASCAP
The Nearest Nothing
When it’s a near miss at certain bliss and you’ll never be the same
You feel confusion, guilt and a Peterbilt load of regret and shame
You know that you had something rare as rubies in the plumbing
That was a million miles from moving files to advance the nearest nothing
Then I ran into you like a bolt from the blues hurled while I was out running
All manner of brain-dead errands and chores that only left me strumming
Mindlessly away and out of tune, not caring
A million miles from everything except the nearest nothing
The nearest nothing is no place to camp
Bad for heart, bad for soul and coming for your lamp
But when I fell under your spell I knew I was feeling something
That was so deep and pure and sweet my heart went bungee jumping
And I just want to thank you for that gentle nudge oh darling
Like being brushed by an angel’s wing, light years from the nearest nothing
Like being brushed by an angel’s wing, light years from the nearest nothing
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2. |
ILL Met by Moonlight
04:00
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words & music by John Kimsey / John Kimsey Tunes, ASCAP
ILL MET BY MOONLIGHT
". . .The eye of
man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen,
man’s hand is not able to taste, his tongue to
conceive, nor his heart to report what my dream
was."
— words of Bottom the Weaver, in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 4, scene 1, 220-4
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
Ill met by moonlight, he did say
Now both us are angling to possess this precious changeling
And the greenwood won’t be treated this a way
Oberon he was a mighty king, now he’s resting in a fairy ring
The only kind of music he could understand was the wind in the willows under his command
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
Ill met by moonlight, he did say
Now both us are angling to possess this precious changeling
And the greenwood won’t be treated this a way
Now people say that Puck could run, let me tell you what Puck he done
Left out of Memphis quarter to nine, mountains of the moon, dinnertime
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
Ill met by moonlight, he did say
She said both us are angling to possess this precious changeling
And the greenwood won’t be treated this a way
Now Bottom said before that day what he’d like for his last play
Quince said to Bottom what might that be? Why, the rude mechanic’s Spanish tragedy
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
Ill met by moonlight, he did say
Now both us are angling to possess this precious changeling
And the greenwood won’t be treated this a way
Titania she was a mighty queen, smash any spell to smithereens
But at Bottom’s bray, she turned and said, “This mortal’s welcome in my flower bed”
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
Ill met by moonlight, he did say
Now both us are angling to possess this precious changeling
And the greenwood won’t be treated this a way
Now when the fay get too upset, it makes the earth wanna cry and sweat
But when they feel in harmony, the planet sighs with sweet relief
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
Ill met by moonlight, he did say
Now both us are angling to possess this precious changeling
And the greenwood won’t be treated this a way
Young lovers on midsummer’s night, take good account of your sweet delight
You never know when you might be some brilliant mistake of cupiditree
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
Ill met by moonlight, he did say
Now both us are angling to possess this precious changeling
And the greenwood won’t be treated this a way
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3. |
Marianne
02:56
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words & music by John Kimsey / John Kimsey Tunes, ASCAP
Marianne
Marianne
Come down off your wall
Curse and bless us with the pearls you have hauled
And “What’s gonna become of me?”
Some damn fool once said to thee
Ah but you had more cojones than he
Marianne
Marianne
Your vineyard-gulping throat
Was Ophelia’s before she set afloat
But you’ve said so much more
Sitting cross-legged on the floor
In a voice that could launch a war
Marianne
Marianne
They condescend
How dare they preach at you, they just pretend
Like desperate little boys, all puffed up to make some noise
But you drank them under the table
Then stood up and said fuck labels, bring us joy
Bring us joy
Marianne
Hit that special note
That will make whole all that is broke
And as for Bobby D, he was never up to your degree
Just nursing unacted desires
While Marianne you rise up higher
We can only but admire
Marianne
Marianne
Marianne
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4. |
Special Kind of Fool
03:31
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words & music by John Kimsey / John Kimsey Tunes, ASCAP
Special Kind of Fool
From a window in a twenty-fourth floor office
I watch’em as they raise new steel and glass up to the sky
And up around the cranes, I see the braves who walk those girders
And after work, I hear’em hoist’em high, saying
It’s a high risk occupation, o my brothers
It takes gumption, know-how and you have to furnish your own tools
See it’s not just any jackleg off the street can do this job
No it takes a very special kind of fool
You work hard and do all the things you’re supposed to
You hit your marks and say can do, boss, no matter what the chore
You play by all the rules, you pay your dues then punch in one day
To hear’em say, wait – the plant’s just been off-shored
And it’s a high risk undertaking, John Q. Public
It takes gumption, know-how and you have to drink the aid that’s kool
See it’s not just any joker off the street can dream that dream
No it takes a very special kind of
Fool
We always hurt the one we say we don’t want to
“We” is a small word for a big honkin’ mystery
But you left little doubt after you stepped out the last time
That we to you is long gone history
And it’s a high risk proposition, little darlin’
It takes gumption, know-how and a firm acquaintance with the blues
See it’s not just any someone off the street can stand the heartache
No it takes a very special, takes a very special
Oh it takes a very special kind of fool
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5. |
A Billionaire Just
02:39
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words & music by John Kimsey / John Kimsey Tunes, ASCAP
A Billionaire Just
A billionaire just
Is plain folk like you or me, you see he made it
The old-fashioned way
By tugging bootstraps and a Barnum’s worth of
Tax breaks -- it’s so sub-prime
You need only try
And hey, the billionaire just
Wants this NDA signed
A billionaire just
Wants to help, he’s a job creator big time
Who’s all about giving back to the human race
That’s so imperiled he must build
A rocket ship like a steely dan
Billionaire DNA must live
On in space if only in a
Can you or I
We’re not Bezos or Gates or Wang Wei
Ours not to ask why
Ours to go out and buy
It’s enough to make you
Up-
Chuck and die
But of course you never do, you’re way too busy
Pushing big rocks
Up to the tops of hills where they just roll right back down again
That’s why god made
Billionaires and Percodan, so we all can
Call this living
Like billionaires
Just without a billion or any air
there there
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6. |
FF & FFH
03:40
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words & music by John Kimsey / John Kimsey Tunes, ASCAP; Horn arrangement by Tom Elferdink
FF & FFH
Well we were ff and ffh
Now what’s that s’posed to mean I hear you say
Well it ain’t no secret code
We were fucked, flustered and far from home
Oh my, oh no
We were ff and ffh ‘til the cows come home
All you ramblers with your smarty pants phones
You need to download the app for the twilight zone
‘Cause you will trip like lickin’ toad
When you’re fucked, flustered and far from home
Oh lawd, uh oh
We were ff and ffh down to the bone
Like Christopher and Paulie when
They were lost out in the Pine Barrens
They could not even whack a mole
So fucked, flustered and far from home
Oh my, marone
They were ff and ffh ‘til the break of dawn
Now when you think that you’re in Rome
But you find that you’re really gone gone gone
For sale, 1 custom van with commode
That’s been fucked, flustered and far from home
Oh lawd, uh oh
We was ff and ffh
We was ff and ffh
It’s something I guess we just got to own
Fucked, flustered and far from home
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7. |
The Quiet Part Out Loud
03:00
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words & music by John Kimsey / John Kimsey Tunes, ASCAP
The Quiet Part Out Loud
The official he was speaking to the congress of the surge
He said success had blessed us, we were nearly on the verge
Of routing the insurgents, they only seemed unbowed
Then he stared ahead a hundred yards
And said the quiet part out loud
The trader he was raking in the derivative dividends
When asked what this all meant re: the over-riding trends
He said a dollar's to be made by them that god's endowed
Then he licked his lips, went on too long
And said the quiet part out loud
I was looking at the news, I thought it's them or us, all right
Then we met the enemy and he was us and I had a sleepless night
And as I watched those talkers now become a blank background
One of them was live on mic
And said the quiet part out loud
I know you from another life in another place and time
Or so I thought on meeting you at the Christmas pantomime
I turned away embarrassed, so clearly out of bounds
Then you came up and took my hand
And said the quiet part out loud
Yes you came up and took my hand
And said the quiet part
Out loud
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8. |
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words & music by John Kimsey / John Kimsey Tunes, ASCAP
Last of the Genuine Fakes
Everybody’s trying to be so dadblame real
But if you have to try does it really come from here?
My own sincerity is inserted post production
I’m a heartbroke poet that’s never shed a tear
He’s the authentic, expert-rated bona fide make and model
With the absolutely real deal totally vintage date
He’s got endless time to dawdle with all that shmoozy twaddle
See he’s the last of the genuine fakes
I am the great pretender, I’m your pin boy
And when I take a knee the ladies all feel faint
That’s showbiz as they say, Mr. President
Never give a sucker a halfway even break
He’s the authentic, expert-rated bona fide make and model
With the absolutely real deal totally vintage date
He’s got a list of everyone who ever crossed him he means to throttle
And he’s the last of the genuine fakes
Was a time posing wouldn’t do, you actually had to play that thing
Now gimme autotune and I will move this world
More than two chords and they say you’re getting all high and mighty
And hey boomer, that’s so 80s, ee-yew -- singing ‘bout some girl
My toupee’s all a-glued and my corset’s drawn up tight
I’ve stuffed my trousers with a can of Tang
My heart is on the sleeve of this here record
And my mascara’s got some rock’n’roll to drain
I’m the authentic, expert-rated bona fide make and model
With the absolutely real deal totally vintage date
All you big shots in this bidness get set, I’m fixin’ to grovel
See I’m the last of the genuine fakes
I’m the last of the genuine fakes
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9. |
Alligator Man
03:52
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words & music by Jimmy C. Newman & Floyd Chance / Southern Arts Music; arrangement by John Kimsey
Alligator Man
Mosquitoes buzzing 'round my head
Spanish moss for my bed
I very seldom see dry land
'Cause I'm an alligator man
I hunt the gator all night long
Take his hide and then I'm gone
To see that girl from Bayou Chance
Who loves this alligator man
And when I bring my wares to town
All the people gather 'round
Oh they just want to shake the hand
Of that tall gator man
Some people search this world for fame
But fighting gators is my game
And all the scars upon my hand
Show I'm an alligator man
Mosquitoes buzzing 'round my head
Spanish moss for my bed
I very seldom see dry land
'Cause I'm an alligator man
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10. |
Long Line Rider
04:19
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words & music by Bobby Darin / Trio Music & Alley Music
Long Line Rider
Doin' ten to twenty hard, swingin' twelve pounds in the yard
Every day, every day
I came in with a group of twenty, there ain't left but half as many
In the clay, in the clay
Hey, long line rider, turn away
There's a farm in Arkansas, got some secrets in its floor
In decay, in decay
You can tell where they're at, nothin' grows, the ground is flat
Where they lay, where they lay
Hey, long line rider, turn away
All the records show so clear, not a single man was here
Anyway, anyway
That's the tale the warden tells as he counts his empty shells
By the day, by the day
Hey, long line rider, turn away
There's a funny taste in the air, great bulldozers everywhere
Diggin' clay, turnin' clay
And the ground coughs up some roots wearin' denim shirts and boots
Haul 'em away, haul 'em away
Hey, long line rider, turn away
Someone screams investigate
‘Scuse me sir, it's a little late
Let us pray, let us pray
This kinda thing can't happen here, ‘specially not in an election year
Outta my way, outta my way
Hey, long line rider, turn away
Well, I heard a brother moan, "Why they plowin' up my home?"
In this way, in this way
I said, "Buddy, shake your gloom, they're just here to make more room
In the clay"
U.S.A.
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11. |
Sleeping with the Bees
02:57
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words & music by John Kimsey / John Kimsey Tunes, ASCAP
Sleeping with the Bees
Well I would surely rather see you
Sleeping with the bees
Than to come round here mopin’ and chokin’
On that ditchweed
I been to Cairo, I met a payroll
Been to rocktoberfest
Where they dined on the beach while the salamanders
Gasped for breath
Oh we had a brief shining moment
Naked on the half shell
Then they gave their holy romans a hammer and a mission bell
What’s that smell
And now I swear I hear my teacher
Preaching from the ground
Saying watch for the moonbeam that makes that
Prince William sound
Oh we had a brief shining moment
Naked on the half shell
Then they got all their hugh beaumonts to line up at the closing bell
For to sell
So take the high road or take the low road
We’ll smell like otherness
When we meet in the peat where the fossils
Wait to be undressed
in their Sunday best
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12. |
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words & music by John Kimsey / John Kimsey Tunes, ASCAP
When the End of the World Was Young
I remember duck and cover, sure, I remember that mushroom halo
Hanging over all our heads like a Dr Strangelove payload
I remember Dallas, yes and I have read of World War Uno
The war to end all wars that bred a world of well, you know
I heard about the fossil fuels way back from Dr. Barry
Cranking the meter up to hell should the powers that be tarry
And all this stuff is still around, now pegged out at ungodly
Makes a body long for the good old days when Rapture was a song by Blondie
When the end of the world was young
And the times were apocalyptoid
Now most of us go blithely on just scrolling through the factoids
Then Reaganomics bared its fangs and we were sucked dry by the market
So long, you toiling masses -- hey, it’s been a slice of oligarch profits
But happily there’s endless war and its Circus Mass Distractus
Lest we pause to think this plague’s too good to have come from a pangolin breakfast
When the end of the world was young
And we lived like there was no tomorrow
Tempus fugit and vita brevis and the time we got is borrowed
May you live in interesting times they say, it’s an old Chinese expression
That means screw you, you so and so and the opium you rode in on
These end times never seem to end, a bad rerun out of Hell
Please to pick your dystopia – have a Huxley, have a Orwell
pick it
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13. |
The Whistleblower
04:01
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words & music by john Kimsey / John Kimsey Tunes, ASCAP
The Whistleblower
The baby food was tainted, she knew from on the line
The boss said it would shake out to a cost-of-doing business fine
She couldn’t stand the thought, you know, of her own, you get the pic
So she grabbed that sash and signaled something grievously amiss
The whistleblower
What does she get for her trouble
A clear conscience, yes
And a job search at best
“We tortured some folks,” said the president in what was s’posed to be contrition
But how exactly does that differ from following the mission
And the officer who called this out felt there had to be a reckonin’
So they put him on trial, sent him to jail and let him be a lesson
To whistleblowers
Here’s what you get if you expose us
An ignored alarm, my brother
While you’re down on some Parchman Farm or another
The video it clearly showed the Apache crew a-whoopin’
‘Bout the hadjis they mowed down from their helicopter swoopin’
Over women and children -- hey it’s their fault, bringing kids into a thresher
But the analyst she knew that this was collateral murder
She blew the whistle
Got solitary for refusing to knuckle
While the one who published the truth
Was starved and mind-fucked without mercy
And so it goes while we ignore the imperial war crime nursery
Oh whistleblower
Nailed to the cross of the owners
Oh whistleblower
Nestled in your hollow shoulder
Whistleblower
War, war, war over and over
Whistleblower
Preserving what’s left of our knowing
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14. |
Woke Up This Morning
03:40
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words & music by Rev. Robert Wesby / Copr. Rev. Robert Wesby
Woke Up This Morning
Woke up this morning with my mind
Set on freedom
Woke up this morning with my mind
Set on freedom
Woke up this morning with my mind
Set on freedom
Hallelu, hallelu, hallelujah
Woke up this morning with my heart
Set on freedom
Woke up this morning with my heart
Set on freedom
Woke up this morning with my heart
Set on freedom
Hallelu, hallelu, hallelujah
I’m gonna walk the walk
I’m gonna talk the talk
I’m gonna walk the walk
I’m gonna talk the talk
Woke up this morning with my mind
Set on freedom
Woke up this morning with my mind
Set on freedom
Woke up this morning with my mind
Set on freedom
Hallelu, hallelu, hallelujah
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John Kimsey Oak Park, Illinois
Singer, songwriter, guitarist and bandleader John Kimsey is a musical man about town (and country). He helms and writes for The Twisted Roots Quartet; does old-timey duet sets with brother Jim as The Kimsey Brothers; conjures psychedelic pandephonium with power trio Medicated Goo; and whips up cheeky pop euphoria with The Art Thieves. Then he has a nice sandwich. ... more
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