New Songs Up, Punkwads

Grit Fork Theme: A) Figure out what "Grit Fork Theme" is an anagram for and B) Then think of creator of that particular thing and then See) You'll know what the things about.

Is That You?: I made this when a Chinese I was dating kicked bricks. In hindsight, I feel there is some kind of immature thing going on with it but we did our best to grow it up some. The lyrics, except for one line, remained the same since the night after I first saw O Brother Where Art Thou" in the theatre. The song has nothing tom do with the movie, I was merely stating that to show ancient the song itself is.

The Man From The Town By The City By The Bay: Here's yet another song that mentions Van Gogh. Now, I don't know if Mr. Van Gogh ever lived in a town by a city by a bay so I must explain. He only appears in a verse and the song really has nothing to do with him really at all. I knew somebody from the bay area with dyed black hair, this person was female and a bit of a looker so, I wrote this little ditty about her, y'know, 'cuz I had the hots, right. The one problem was I had already written another one for her and I didn't want to be weird so I changed the character to a male and left it like I had just made this thing for no reason. She had dyed black hair, I had dyed black hair and it would stand to reason that I could be the character in the song myself and so it was to be. The end of the song is a bout a waitress from florida who'd give me free Coca-Cola's. Hurricane's, oranges bruising in the wind, that kind of thing, y'know. Anyhow, this Van Gogh guy, I think what drew me to his thing was his ending of his life the way he did and his living in obscurity being so badass and having only sold one painting in his lifetime to his brother and all of that. So anyway, NOW the song is about me and the history of it doesn't matter.

2:14 AM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

"The Flying Dog" lyrics, plus "Alcohol and Sleeping Pills."

"The Flying Dog"

That flying dog
His crash landing white wings
His flight through the lightning
His passage through time and through space
He once the the ark
Till he passed on through the dark
In another dimension but still in this place

Till he grew wings and flew away

In an april fog
I howled at his deathbed
I picked up his dead head
No wind in his lungs to hold up his bones
Now he's a star
Way up there by the moon
Greyhounds in the heavens have called him back home.

Till he grew wings and flew away
That Flying Dog

(Also here are lyrics to "Alcohol and Sleeping Pills" which was up before but now is temporarily gone.)

Crazy daisies, dafodils
Alcohol and sleeping pills
The sunny days of roses disappear
My eye's were full of dollar bills
Cheaper dates and cheaper thrills
There's whiskey colored moonbeams in your tears

Put the rope around my neck
Pull the trigger, hit the deck
Draw out all the blood to paint the sky
Rusted throats with twisted hopes
Are screaming at the burning boats
On a sea of gasoline and pine

Beat the horse until it's gone
take the piss out of my songs
I'll say right now there's no such thing as friends
You just walk around here paranoid
Twisting knives and killing joy
And we both know this ain't the fuckin' end

My head is full of memories,
humble, birds and bumming bees
And love is just another axe that falls
But if you want to come back home
To rest here with my skin and bones
I swear I'll be here waiting when you call

I write right here in this summary
in the after-summer breeze
Those crazy enough to love me must be killed
You want my heart you get the trash
The future just repeats the past
And I still miss your blood red kisses still

4:33 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Song lyrics

At the request of a young fellow on here, I'm going to now post some of the lyrics. Also, I'm posting them in the blog because the song mechanism on here is broken at the moment.

--"Hello Galaxy" (this song of this is sort of loosely based on Vincent Van Gogh. Which is weird because it was written a year ago before I had gotten into any sort of discussion on the man.)

This broken wing keeps me driving
Hello galaxy and wishing stars
Everything I ever destroyed never lived until it scarred
I can't hear from one side
Want means nothing off of the brush
And any way I try and reshape
saying nothing while the truth falls straight from the crush

When the vultures call there's nothing left at all
When we're through there will be nothing left of you.

I'm not sheepish, but my grin might tell a lie
and every motherfucker with an apple in his eye
rattles out to nowhere with his axe stuck to the grind



--"You Are The World" (this title is my roommate's play on the USA For Africa song title in '84 when a gawdawful amount of cheesy jack asses piled into a room and swayed back and forth and used the record to feed the beer bellied kids of Ethiopia. I'm not being insensitive to their hardship, those kids looked like they had beer bellies, at least, that's what I thought when I was seven. As for what or who it's about, I'll not say)

In a palace in the iris of your eye
is everything that's beautiful from the sea and sky
I'll beat an ugly song upon your ugly door
Train chugs the retro railroad along the valley floor
It always seems my thirst is never drenched
My hunger never fed and my meanings never meant
It always seems I wind up in this place
with my head up in the heavens my eyes, mirrors of your face
To the world you are someone but to someone you are the world

I'll meet you atyour podium, I'll hear the soft melodion
I'd cross an ugly land to watch you cry
I'd grieve the death of no one in your place so long as I could see your face reflecting moonlight like the wishful fireflies


---"I Said 'Eyes', Not 'Guys'" (um, this title is a reference to one of the lyrics that sounds like I'm saying "guys" when I'm really saying "eyes")

Crowtown left behind
Swimming through that darker mind
The fence post roads of cartoon times
A million city halls
After flood and after fall
Your horses housed in a flaming stalls
Some broken hopes won't heal
White knuckled on the stearing wheel
Some rainbows that you couldn't steal
Your cattle calls with banjo
In the fields

Crowtown left behind
Swiming through that crowded brine
Kill all those that murdered time
A million city halls
After flood and after fall
To Jericho your trumpets call
Filled with life and akali
I tried to spy the bigger pie but the bigger eyes will cheat you out of all that you won't steal
Your cattle calls with banjo
In the fields

So far off the trail they blazed
Fresh footprints will lead the way
The tree you fell and then replaced
Is burning like the guitar in the sun.

10:24 AM - 1 Comments - 1 Kudos - Add Comment

Extra Special thanks and shit

To all my friends, thank you guys a lot. You all seem to dig what's being done here and that just about warms the heart to the bone. Some of you folks already know me from my other regular joe myspace page and thanks to you for coming along over here. And Cheryl and Jesi-la-la and Shalini and divagrrl and Horsecow Steve and Q and Jon and Quenton and the Cassidy's and Glen and Kelly and Genetic James and Jessica from Antioch for the very nice things she's said- thanks. I also wanna call attention this new suburban youth contingent that I seem to have stumbled upon. "No harm, he's armed", "I heart kathleen hanna", "Gordon Gano is a Baptist Minister", and "End Of Amnesia", I give a big thank you to them, too. I thought I was out of touch with a lot of things. They seem to have flown out of the woodwork and like the Pesadillas and this here music I'm making and for that, I thank 'em. Either they're not as young as they say, or their abilities to sprout facial hair is beyond my comprehension.

And for the really big thank you, J. Cox. The electronics and button wizard behind that dance song, the drummer on that first song, the lead guitar player on that 3rd song, the accordion player on the last song, and the recordist of all four up there plus the rest of the record of over 30 something songs minus the ones I did myself that he wants nothing to do with.

Oh, and about that record if you're wondering, it'll be along in the future. It has no name as of late and has no artwork and no money behind it yet but, it'll be here soon, I hope. Then there's also the older "Horse Pilot" album available if you come by and ask for a burn. So far, there are only about 20 or so copies of that around town here.

Allow me now to use a cliche'd-ass statement- Thanks for listening.

Long live Orangevale,
Noah Nelson

4:35 PM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment