Jeff
from Accept the Mystery by Graham Smith
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THIS TRACK ORIGINALLY APPEARED IN The Lifted Brow, "Atlas," 2H 2009. In addition, it would not have existed without the inspiration that it's inclusion therein created.
lyrics
Prester John,
I must say, your restaurant is fucking great. I mean, the ingredients are amazing. That’s what makes it better tasting, and so on.
Anyway, in Ctesiphon, I heard bold claims of a paradise among the apes. Sounds pretty nice; do you know the way?
Jeff
I’m coming, there is no escape.
Jeff
You silly prick. You really think you can diminish such a sinister spirit?
You can play your tricks, I’ll take my licks.
I like my wits quick and victories pyrrhic.
“Fake,” “dick,” take your pick.
You make me sick
And I can’t take another minute.
So if you’re saying something, spin it.
Say some shit again; yeah, through the caked-on spit I bet you’re grinning.
Call me back, John.
I’m not fucking kidding.
Come see me.
When you need a friend around you.
When you fear the end is near.
Come see me. Come see me here.
Forget the histories you’ve read about
Or seen projected on a screen by
Mankind’s infernal machine.
The truth will set you free.
Some sooth I’ve yet to say
Shall come to be for you and me
And under a fluorescent haze
We’ll trick ‘em all and shuffle off
With pickleballs and shuttlecocks
Divining rods and icon fragments and
Imitation ironic glasses
Oh, forgive me please.
I cannot control the seas,
Or the winds or the weaponized wildebeests.
I’m just trying to keep the peace
And I can’t abide disbelief. Oh I’ve tried,
And believe me, it keeps me up at night.
The sheets cover everything in sight
With oblong holes cut out for eyes.
When the light hits just right, it’s pretty nice
Here, give it a try.
Papa was a stolen roach
In the parking lot of a Dead show.
Mama, no!
Put on your clothes!
This is not the life we chose
Not even close
Occidental overdose
Lock the rental mobile home
This is an island overture with
Continental overtones
This is a violent omen--sure,
To a monumental gnomonophobe!
Hope floats, witches don’t;
I hope you know which one you’re fishin’ for!
A drop of blood, a puff of smoke
A sloppy dub of “Ponyoak”
You Romeo!
Another trop bon mot
To throw in your portfolio
And so it goes.
“When life gives you antipodes,
Make diplomats and xenophobes.”
-Jeff Porcaro
I must say, your restaurant is fucking great. I mean, the ingredients are amazing. That’s what makes it better tasting, and so on.
Anyway, in Ctesiphon, I heard bold claims of a paradise among the apes. Sounds pretty nice; do you know the way?
Jeff
I’m coming, there is no escape.
Jeff
You silly prick. You really think you can diminish such a sinister spirit?
You can play your tricks, I’ll take my licks.
I like my wits quick and victories pyrrhic.
“Fake,” “dick,” take your pick.
You make me sick
And I can’t take another minute.
So if you’re saying something, spin it.
Say some shit again; yeah, through the caked-on spit I bet you’re grinning.
Call me back, John.
I’m not fucking kidding.
Come see me.
When you need a friend around you.
When you fear the end is near.
Come see me. Come see me here.
Forget the histories you’ve read about
Or seen projected on a screen by
Mankind’s infernal machine.
The truth will set you free.
Some sooth I’ve yet to say
Shall come to be for you and me
And under a fluorescent haze
We’ll trick ‘em all and shuffle off
With pickleballs and shuttlecocks
Divining rods and icon fragments and
Imitation ironic glasses
Oh, forgive me please.
I cannot control the seas,
Or the winds or the weaponized wildebeests.
I’m just trying to keep the peace
And I can’t abide disbelief. Oh I’ve tried,
And believe me, it keeps me up at night.
The sheets cover everything in sight
With oblong holes cut out for eyes.
When the light hits just right, it’s pretty nice
Here, give it a try.
Papa was a stolen roach
In the parking lot of a Dead show.
Mama, no!
Put on your clothes!
This is not the life we chose
Not even close
Occidental overdose
Lock the rental mobile home
This is an island overture with
Continental overtones
This is a violent omen--sure,
To a monumental gnomonophobe!
Hope floats, witches don’t;
I hope you know which one you’re fishin’ for!
A drop of blood, a puff of smoke
A sloppy dub of “Ponyoak”
You Romeo!
Another trop bon mot
To throw in your portfolio
And so it goes.
“When life gives you antipodes,
Make diplomats and xenophobes.”
-Jeff Porcaro
credits
from Accept the Mystery,
released March 7, 2010
Graham Smith
Graham Smith
license
all rights reserved
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