Van Sand

After finishing the third album I realized there were only 14 songs left to write and I thought I would actually live to finish the project.  Within 2 month of running away from my abusive ex I knocked up my new girlfriend and quickly married her.  I thought the only way I could make this fourth album crazier than the third was to use the loop pedal and mix all the acoustic sounds together, while also using as few chord changes as possible.  The big outline was designed around Plato’s philosopher king.  Even though I was confirmed a Catholic when I was 25, the silent retreats I went on introduced me to Jesus, clearly hallucinations but also undeniably real to myself, who stayed with me through all the crazy events.  My first album ‘hit by car’ was all exercise and music, the second ‘cancer’ was astrology, the third ‘knight’ was military with don quixote, and so the fourth ‘van sand’ was supposed to be a double album and the 14 songs would follow the stations of the cross as I related them to my personal experiences.  

I generally turn to Jesus in times of strife.
When I got my girlfriend pregnant, struggles were rife.
When I found out my father’s going to prison for life.

The serpent slithers in the soil.
It’s taunting haunts you while you toil.
All your foils in its coil.
Cause even the judge is straight up artificial
So objective here’s some dude being sued,
but he’s misconstrued our family feud.
I don’t mean to be rude but my mood comes unglued.
I couldn’t find the words to make it work.
It’s hard to be convincing when I smirk,
but the same damn tone that says I’m serious, says I’m a jerk.

The serpent burns the midnight oil.
Brings you to a steady boil,
seducing you to be disloyal.
Cause even the doctors verified it official.
So many babies had in a fad, I mean I’m glad
but I’m sad cause I’m not a grad and what if I go mad?
Or worse, turn out like my dad. That’s bad.
I couldn’t find the words out on a walk.
Inspiration comes in colored chalk.
When I get home, honey, you and I need to have a talk.

The serpent’s purpose to embroil,
find your flaws to cause turmoil.
Any sin could spoil the royal.
Cause who would have thought faith could be superficial?
So many people thanking God, say there is no God,
then find it odd if you don’t applaud, or poke and prod
how can a broad view be flawed? Either way, I smile and nod.
I just can’t find the words when I’m awake.
Everything’s a dream or really fake.
And what does any of this have to do with Jesus, for Pete’s sake?

Learning to love life at any loss,
the courage to face strife at any cost
I can fit the whole world in a cross.

So I embrace my cross here and ask lyzz to marry me, I had already proposed before I wrote it, but I thought the gimmick would be good for future fights, it’s worked.  When we were fighting real bad a couple years ago I said, ‘ill never not be able to play this song’.  I don’t always do the kneeling part but it’s too easy not to play when I’m at a loss.  For extra pretension the lyric form was based on the English Hail Mary.  

I see a cricket on a dime.
Passing the perch of monetary significance,
I chance to listen to its chime;
the crowds careen around the subtle performance.
Well, a question catches me in a bind
constricting calm with cognitive dissonance,
“Do I find this a fortune and redefine refined,
or consent to financial indifference?”
The coins are falling out of my pocket.
The coins could by ME some chocolates? Exotic chocolates . . .

The stage supports the will engaged
while supplying no fundamental sustenance,
but the creature’s needs are best assuaged
in captivating its targeted audience.
Well, I won’t invest or waste my hard earned wages
on risky expenses or capitalistic impudence.
Then again, all men (human) know a woman who gauges 
her companions by the confidence she’ll influence.
The coins falling out of my pocket could buy YOU some chocolates. . . exotic chocolates!
The coins could build you a rocket. . . and launch it  
*sway hips suggestively

A glimpse of this cricket’s persistence, this instance
(on a currency of cosmic inconsequence),
convinces me dismissal of fiscal assistance
is complacence, not economic incompetence.
For, if a frugal existence consists of collecting this ten cents
while preventing any pecuniary incontinence,
I could accumulate millions of dollars through the contents
of continuous sidewalk reconnaissance!
So, the coins falling out of my pocket could build US a rocket, and launch it,
but the coins keep falling, and no one’s stopping.

Jesus sees his mother, but she also sees him, I’m sure my mom saw me differently once I was a Father, it’s like knowing someone your whole life and then seeing them for the first time.  The third album had one song with a loop, the fourth has one song without a loop.

Hi, I’m Simon, the semi-pro sumo wrestler,
part-time sky dive instructor,
second-hand encyclopedia peddler,
and a helping friendly neighbor.
Anyways, I got an old-school lawnmower.
I like to wait til it’s wet, so the mowin’s slower.
When my filing cabinet’s stuck with folders,
or I get to relocate boulders,

 I push, push, push.

I was headed in a north-east direction
and saw a stalled automobile in need of resurrection.
I said, hey! ‘Hay?’ Hey… interjection.
Can we get this car out of the intersection?
Anyways, I came across a big clearance at the mall,
crowd so thick I couldn’t see through them at all.
Little kid lost, trying to call his ma,
but he won’t get far with just charisma.

You gotta push, push, push.

It’s the lady giving birth in the hospital,
haber-dasher in the corner threading a needle,
the guy collecting shopping carts in the parking aisle,
and the marathon runner on her final mile.
Anyways, trying to bass-ackwards row a canoe,
fit a watermelon into a shoe,
tippin all the rhinos at the zoo,
porcelain throne you know what to do…

Push, push, push

Jesus falls a second time so here I go over and under a little more mentally than physically.  If you didn’t notice, the second to last song on each album is a unit of time, the first is a year, second is a month, third is a day, here’s an hour, just trying to go full meta.

Even when Jesus is going through his greatest ordeal he calls out to the women to comfort them, do not weep for me, blessed are the barren.  And even in one of my greatest struggles he consoles me.  A play on intermission, we’re halfway through the stations here, in the middle of the dream in the middle of the month, in the middle of the year to have the revelation before being hit by a car. 

I was sitting on a beach.
By the time the sun was directly over me,
there were so many people around that I had to stand.

Through the crowd,
I unmistakably saw Jesus, and he saw me.
More time passed, and people began to disperse.

I saw him again, 
one by one, until he came up to me,
and shook my hand.  He smiled, and left without word.

But there in my hand
was an olive branch.  Was this for me?
I knew without knowing and obsessed for days.