Holdin' on to the edge of the bed
How's your head? Mine's dead, got a mouthful of lead
I gotta get up, get away from the crawl
With the face down Motown belle of the ball.
What have we got that's got us back?
We gotta write it up like a plan of attack
So keep still, it'll take a while
Get down in the dirty, hurt with a smile.
Grit teeth, keep up the brave face,
Bundle up, erupt into head space,
Stalling out at the end of the rope,
Last hope's gone home and up in smoke.
Thresholds and empty bowls
Choke holds and hollow souls
All too glad to give up the fight
No spark, no bark, no bite, so
What does he do?
He doesn't
Who is he now?
He wasn't
Got no thoughts to entertain
Lack of words and aim in the brain
What does he want?
For nothing
Yeah, where does he go?
Nowhere
He's no one of consequence, yeah
Only a man among other sins.
Sits in the house at the end of the street
Got no to-do's, no shoes on his feet
On the rise, blinds pulled in tight
No lot, he's got no dog in the fight.
So lean back and kick 'em off,
Life's got no right to stop his sloth,
From dawn through dusk he fucks with his head,
Shut in the sheets of a heavenly bed.
No, can you hear him? He's got the rot,
The brain rot stains with gainless pain, spots
Dancing round right in front of his eyes,
A miser of life, a non-smoking wise guy.
Keeping time, rhymes spilling away
With head in hands and hands led astray
Two timing and timing is wrong,
Lurks in the lurch at the end of the song.
Give it up to the man himself
He's a world class dumb ass head on a shelf.
What does he do?
He doesn't
Who is he now?
He wasn't
Got no thoughts to entertain
Lack of words and aim in the brain
What does he want?
For nothing
Yeah, where does he go?
Nowhere
He's no one of consequence, yeah
Only a man among other sins.
Moonlit melodic jazz on the latest from Al Swainger’s Pointless Beauty that ponders humanity’s place in the universe. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 26, 2022