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Everything is Something's Food

Everything is Something's Food

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Everything is Something's Food

Comprimento:
326 página
2 horas
Lançado em:
Oct 14, 2015
ISBN:
9781311721464
Formato:
Livro

Descrição

To be clear this is not a novel or book of short stories. It is a collection of 185 of my old song lyrics. I'm not a lyrical genius. I've been in a lot of bands since 1988, however, and I'm a fair songwriter. To make this whole exercise somewhat less lame, I've de-lyricised the songs somewhat. I took out the repeated choruses and the "Oooh-oooh tra-la-la [handclap]" backing vocals stuff since there's little in life more tedious than reading that with a straight face. So here you are. Not poems, at least not written that way, just some songs. Enjoy. UPDATE: This revised edition contains added lyrics and poems from old notes I dug up, plus several new poems I've continued to write since this was first put together.

Lançado em:
Oct 14, 2015
ISBN:
9781311721464
Formato:
Livro

Sobre o autor

Randall Schanze is a Science Fiction author and blogger from Florida. He's the child of a NASA engineer and an immigrant, and has had a life-long fascination with space and exotic cultures. He's wild-eyed, engaging, chatty, smart, interested in nearly everything, and hence almost instantly annoying in person. Just the same, his writing has been praised by several well-respected professional SF authors. His first love is Science Fiction, and he's been writing for 30 years, though much of that time was spent writing under various pseudonyms. The most noteworthy of these was "Kevin Long," a name he used to publish four books. For half a decade he was the head writer and editor on the Republibot website but he has since retired. During that period, he went by the nom de web "Republibot 3.0" in a paranoid bid to protect his identity from his stalkers, though obvious since he's using his real name now, he's gotten more laid back about the whole thing. He's middle aged, happily married, and has a family. He also sings.

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Everything is Something's Food - Randall Schanze

Everything Is Something's Food

by Randall Schanze

Copyright © 2012, 2018 by Randall Schanze, All Rights Reserved

Smashwords ISBN: 978-1311721464

Smashwords Edition, License Statement

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Introduction

I'm not a lyrical genius.

I've been in a lot of bands since 1988, however, and I'm a fair songwriter. I'd grade most of my stuff B or C. I have my A moments, and there's plenty sub-F efforts. I'll spare you those.

It never would have occurred to me to print up my lyrics in book form. That's something pretentious people do with poems, and I'm nowhere near arrogant enough to assume my goofy verse is poetry, though occasionally, rarely, I come close. Very rarely.

A week or so after publishing my third book (It's Not Rocket Science) my tech/editor friend sent me an e-mail saying I've got your next book all ready to go. It's called 'The Complete Lyrics of Randall Schanze.' I'm just joking of course, but maybe I'm not. Look through the attached file and let me know what you think. (I paraphrase a bit.) The file was an archive of song lyrics I'd sent him over the last half decade or so.

My initial reaction was Oh, come on! The more he talked about it, however, the more I warmed to the idea. As he explained it, a lot of these songs were really old–some dating back to the '80s–most never recorded, some only played live a few times, a few never made it out of rehearsals. The majority are forgotten or only half-remembered in the drug-addled minds of some of our (and less frequently my) fans. Dave, my buddy, explained that putting 'em out there in book form would give all this stuff a life beyond a file on his computer and some dusty notebooks in my garage. Also, it would copyright everything all at once, so that was a bonus.

To make this whole exercise somewhat less lame, I've de-lyricised the songs somewhat. I left in one chorus per song, and took out the repeats unless there was a specific reason to do so, and I took out the music notes and the Oooh-oooh tra-la-la [handclap] backing vocals stuff since there's little in life more difficult than reading that with a straight face.

So here you are.

UPDATE: This revised edition contains added lyrics and poems from old notes I dug up, plus several new poems I've continued to write since this was first put together. There is no table contents, there's just too many, but it's still in (mostly) alphabetical order, including ones that start with The or just an A, which is usually not the case when sorting, but it was easier that way. One exception is two versions of a poem that are meant to go together, but were separated in the first version, which was confusing.

A Kind of Time Travel

(7/3/08)

He hears Come on, Eileen and cringes

It's played just far too many times

That all it evoked for him unhinges

Less meaning than clanging chimes

It's never about the music

Nor about the scene

He hears Eddie Rabbit

And thinks of 8th grade in Oldsmar

Mobile homes the school inhabited.

Simpler times by far.

It's not about the fashions

Or what the lyrics mean

He hears The Cars

And remembers walking in the back yard,

That fat chick dragging him off to the bars

But loses the as his thoughts are jarred

It's not about the songs

Whether profane or sublime

And late at night he hears The Fixx

He went to Wednesday night service to be near her

She hit him like a ton of bricks

Though he loved her, she never did quite concur

It's never about the music

Nor about the scene

Nor the fashions

Or what the lyrics mean

It's not about the songs

Whether profane or sublime

In the end it's all about

Anchoring yourself in time.

A People Person

(6/27/08)

He likes coffee

Though he never mentioned it

Till after he was dead

When they finally got him

They set up a pike

For his meticulously coiffed head

And he laughs when you say he's a monster

In a demeanor that's disarmingly snappy

He'll confess to your friends

That in the end,

He just wanted to make people happy

He had it coming

His life caused the death

Of fifty billion or more

He lost his family

Which still doesn't justify

Volunteering for all the shadows had in store

Then it ended

Not just for that once

But for all time

And that moment

When his fake smile finally cracked

Was kinda sublime

And he laughs when you say he's a monster

In a way that borders on sappy

He'll confess to the gambling buddy of

His only friend that

He just wanted to make people happy

A Pointless Experiment

(6/20/08)

New Port Richey

I thought I would write a song in Esperanto.

It was just a little experiment to see how it would go.

It should not be too hard because as everyone knows, every noun ends in an O.

Every person, place, or thing, whether it crawl, dance or sing, they all end in an O in Esperanto.

Professor Zamenhoff had a good idea,

(By which I mean pointless and useless and asinine)

To create a new language for no good reason.

But that does not mean it was not worth trying.

I do not speak the language, but that is just fine.

I can push around syllables and make them rhyme with an online translator in my own good time.

Sencela Eksperimento

Mi pensis Min ..us kompon kanton en Esperanto.

Tio nur estas malgranda eksperimento

Vidi kiel estus iri. (ĝi) ne devus esti tro

Malfacila ĉar kiel ĉiuj scias, ĉiu substantivo fin en O.

Ĉiu persono, loko, aŭ afero, kastrita virŝafo

Gi ramp, danco aŭ kant, ili ĉiuj ..n finis O

En Esperanto.

Profesoro Zamenhoff havis bonan ideon,

(Per kiu tio estas sencela kaj senutila kaj assinine)

Al kre nova lingvo sen pravigebla motivo. Sed tio

Ne signifas ĝin ne estis merit provanta. Mi ne paroli la lingvon, sed tio

Estas ĵus bona. mi povas puŝi ĉirkaŭ silaboj kaj ..ig

Ilin rimo kun enreta tradukisto

En mia propra bona tempo.

A Safe Kind of Fear

I remember all of those bombs

Always pointed at my head

The paranoia of knowing that

Three hundred million people wanted me dead

But I felt safe,

Yeah, I felt safer then

Soviet trawlers in the Gulf of Mexico

I'd see them three miles out from the beach

Praying for that Ragnarok

That would forever remain out of reach

It was a good life

It was better then

I, I remember

Walking by the Berlin Wall

At the Hard Rock Cafe in Orlando

By the Eternal Flame

That didn't burn for long

I miss the Cold War

It was a safe kind of fear

I miss the Cold War

I ain't felt safe since then.

A Small Price for Immortality

(8/7/16)

I been saving my hair clippings for your witchcraft

I think I've got a pound or two

If you want fingernail clippings or jars of urine

I can help you out there, too

My friends have all learned not to raid my fridge

I think it's kinda funny

So if you'd like some of my special that's-not-lemonade

I won't charge you very much money

Cuz I been thinkin' bout the great hereafter

And it doesn't seem so very long

Til the here and now becomes the bye-and-bye

And I'm not sure if it's right or wrong

So if you want to peek into outer darkness

I'm interested in what you may find

And though I'm not about to do it for myself

I'll gladly facilitate you and your kind

Black candles, chalk and goat's blood

You don't need to pay retail price

The baby's teeth are over by the big knives

And the alligator wine is very nice

If you somehow swing resurrection of the dead

Could you ask them some questions for me?

But when you dig a grave to put him back down

Experience says You'd better dig two or three

After you're done flying on your broomstick

Just remember to tell me what you see

And if it happens that you end up damned, well

That's a small price for immortality

No, I'm not going to risk my soul on this crap

But if you wanna try, please feel free

I only want your money and some feedback

That's a small price for immortality

A Southerner's Formal, if Wrongheaded, Apology

(7/4/08)

I'd like to formally apologize

For my people and myself

For treatin' y'all as wealth

And puttin' our morals on the shelf

Because I don't really know if anyone else has

At least not in this way

If we can hold the past at bay

Build something that'll stay

So if you can forgive us, that'd mean a lot

I won't ask you to forget

We ain't earned that yet

And I could be all wet

But I don't think I'm alone when I say lately

Things been goin' wrong

For just a little bit too long

But I want you along

As equal partners in whatever it is

The future has in store

It won't be like before

Forget the days of yore

'Cuz I miss when Petty would sing Rebels

And my black friends would sing along

Sing it loud and sing it strong

'Cuz that's a helluva song

You're our brothers, our partner, our allies

And we need you these days

A new future we will blaze

As we beat up on the gays…

A Very Strange Kind of Gay

(6/25/09)

He had one who claimed she slept with Elvis

Two who did Simon Le Bon

Three who nailed Mister Chris Isaac

And that Galactica actress who had that Eagle named Don

He's obviously heterosexual

He brags about it every day

But his odd quest to go where specific men have gone before

Strikes me as a very strange kind of gay.

There were four who made it with Rod Stewart

Five for both Kid and Play

Six who did Nikki Sixx

And the one who did George Michael before he went gay

He says everybody has their hobbies

He says the girls talk a lot about the old days

Undeniably he gets a lot of great looking women, but it still

Strikes

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