Things That Lisa Says

Who among us can resist the temptation to get maudlin and morose on Christmas Eve?

And what can be sadder than the story of a tragically misunderstood young girl who cried out for attention once too often?

You won't find the whole story in this reading of the song because last night when I was recording this, I simply could not commit the denoument verse to the hard drive... it was just too pat, too on the nose... too obvious. Too lame.

Suffice it to say that in the part of the story I left out, Lisa will have an opportunity to be reevaluated at the staff's convenience at some future date -- if she shows a sufficient change in attitude. Her parents will send the upstairs maid to visit her every other weekend.

Still, there'll be glimmer of hope, a young intern who whispers that he's going to the state authorities, trust him -- he'll get her out.

Yet, she doesn't see him again and on a lonely Christmas Eve, staring out through the tiny, barred window of her discreetly padded cell, she finds herelf praying for a Christmas miracle...


Yep, all of that was in that was in that one verse I cut. You know what they say, art is knowing what to leave out.

Happy holidays!

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Things That Lisa Says

No one understands
the things that Lisa says
they just shake their head
they think that Lisa's strange

No one understands
the games that Lisa plays
singing to herself
and dancing in the rain

No one's ever seen
the world where Lisa lives
it's all some crazy dream
she's just a crazy kid

No one understands
the games that Lisa plays
singing to herself
and dancing in the rain

(C)1975, TK Major

I Just Started to Cry

If you've ever made love in a hayloft -- or tried -- you probably realize that the reason such scenes are a fixture of certain romantic literature is that you have to be completely filled with a crazed, don't give a damn passion to lay down in hay much less roll around in it.

But waking up in a hayloft the morning after puppy love turns serious during a sudden, summer storm... I'm thinking there might be a few delicious moments, there... or maybe bittersweet, if deep down you know you're headed out of town as soon as you can get some travelling money together and hop a freight out to one of the coasts or maybe down to the gulf.

This song is about that moment, that very moment, when you know for certain just how much you're about to throw away.


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I Just Started to Cry

We ran through the summer night
it was hot and it was black
we ran until we were all alone
and didn't even know the way back

We were young
we were in love
that summer we were one
when I look back I start to cry
to think of what is gone

A storm came up from the south real fast
and lightning lit the rain
I looked in her eyes for a moment
and then it was dark again

Our hands entwined and then our tongues
we were soaking wet
we made our way to the old Hansen barn
and there our souls met

I woke up the next morning
and she slept by my side
the sunlight poured through the hayloft door
and I just started to cry

I cried cause she looked so pretty lying there
I cried because I loved her so
I cried cause I knew she was the only one
and I cried cause I knew I was gonna go

(C) 1991 TK MAJOR

Rubber Room Rock

This sardonic cautionary tale joins my earlier opus to dangerous dancing, "The Slam" (as yet unpresented on AYoS).

One of the great things about having been around more or less at the beginning of the punk thing in LA is that I never felt I had to buy into anyone else's vision of punk -- so I never felt compelled to dive into a slam pit or jump off a p.a. tower.

The way I looked at it -- the first person who jumped off a p.a. tower -- maybe that was punk (and perhaps fatal). But the second guy who did it was just a poseur -- and a stupid one at that.

A few years ago, after I first put the 'studio version' of this song on the web, I heard from a few people who saw (or knew the victims of) very unfortunate incidents -- so I guess I should point out that engaging in a moment of stupidity and ending up brain damaged is not always a laughing matter. I'd like to think that today's youth has learned a thing or two -- but just in case -- Don't try this in your century, kids.

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studio version:
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RUBBER ROOM ROCK

I used to twist and do the jerk
they don't let me do that no more
now all I do is do the worm
in my straight jacket down on the floor

but I still rock
I still rrock
I do the Rubber Room Rock
Oh yea I rock
I still rock
I do the Rubber Room Rock

Used to slam and bang my head
ten thousand stage dives or more
dove forty feet from a PA tower
and went three feet into the floor

But I still rock
yeah I rock . . .

None of my friends are no fun no more
they just sit in the dayroom and stare at the floor
they come back from the lab with rings round their eyes
therapy's so expensive -- they lobotomize

But they still rock
oh yeah we rock
we do the Rubber Room Rock
Oh sure we rock
unh hunh we rock
we do the Rubber Room Rock

(C)1986, TK Major

Rambler

I guess every 22 year old singer-songwriter goes through a phase of writing about being a broken down middle-aged man. But looking at this song from a certain perspective these many decades later, I can't help but crack the hell up.

I mean, when I wrote the line, "Left my home and my woman about four years ago" -- it was in my mind that that seemed like a really long time ago.

Or maybe I was trying to suggest how fast this guy's descent was, I can't really tell you anymore. At any rate, I do remember I was trying to write a counterpoint to what seemed like a rash of songs on the radio at the time (1973ish) that celebrated ramblin' and gamblin' -- though I can only think of one or two, offhand, now.

I wanted to show, you know, the dark side of ramblin' and gamblin'...

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Left my home and my woman
about four years ago
mostly don't know when to quit
but then I packed up my losses
and stumbled out on the road

Well I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler
I'm just a shambles of a man
I'm stumbling; my lifes crumblin
I'm just another loser on the lam

If the stakes are low then the time is right
I'm a fool for a penny-ante game
May be gambling with my life
but it's just small change all the same

Well I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler...

I've been beaten, I've been cheated
I've been shot at from Arkansas to Vietnam
I been shafted, I been laughed at
I been out-casted but I still don give a damn

Well I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler
I'm just a shambles of a man
I'm stumbling; my lifes crumblin
I'm just another loser on the lam

(C) 1973 TK Major

This Christmas

It was warm today and it's going to be warm tomorrow, in the 80s or even 90s, inland, which, I gotta tell ya, makes it hard to crank up much sincere enthusiasm for a lugubrious dirge of a Christmas song about having rain in your soul of souls.

This was written not long before Christmas 1983 (hence the reference to Big Brother) and it was raining and I was kind of depressed. And I did spend at least part of Christmas drinking strong coffee with strong liquor in it (whisky rather than brandy) and listening to music (Eno rather than the Pistols)... but I was having fun doing it. It was like being in a song.

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This Christmas (Is Going to Be Different)
by TK Major

Theres rain in the streets, rain in the gutters of this city
Seems like it always rains at Christmastime here
There's rain in my heart, rain in my shoes and in my soul of souls
and if they have rain in heaven you can bet its raining up there

Now Santa Klaus is all around just like big brother
His twinkling eyes follow you wherever you go
People spending money buying fancy toys for themselves
Then give them to the kids and wonder why they feel so old

Ah, but this Christmas is going to be different
I'm going to have a happy holiday
This Christmas is going to be different
Cause I dont think I can take another blue Christmas day

Christmastime Nineteen Hundred 81
Driving up the coast with the wife in our beat up SAAB
It was raining all the way, we fought all the time, it was our last chance
we headed for 'Frisco, we made it to Reno, it was that kind of trip

The earth drifts from the sun, the days get cold, it's Christmas
if you're with someone youre warm, but alone is alone, on Christmas
The nights are long, more time for dreaming on Christmas
But when you wake up you find its all just a dream on Christmas

Ah, but this Christmas is going to be different ...

Sitting round the fire, watching the rain on Christmas
i got some brandy in my coffee, trying to crank up some cheer
I got the Pistols on the box, god save the queen, je suis l'anarchie
Well Im trying real hard to make it turn out okay this year.

Ah, but this Christmas is going to be different
I'm going to have a happy holiday
This Christmas is going to be different
Cause I dont think I can take another blue Christmas day
(C)1984,TK Major www.bluetrip.com

Holiday Clip Show

The Winter Solstice on 21 December will mean A Year of Songs has passed its first season -- AYoS started on the Autumnal Equinox, 22 September. It also means I've posted almost 90 songs, one a day, since then. Faithful reader/listeners will have noted that there has been a considerable range of quality in both songs and performance, from agreeably sloppy on down to How can this guy keep on humiliating himself like this?

But as I've pointed out before, this isn't about pride or shame, humility or narcissism (well, perhaps it is but maybe we'll save that discussion for the Vernal Equinox)... it's about keeping your head down and pushing forward.

Still, I thought it was probably worthwhile to step back, take a deep breath, and look back on a few highlights from the season just passed...


AYoS Winter Clip Shows:

TOP 12 PODCAST DOWNLOAD [mp3: 21.1 MB; duration: 29:18]
TOP 12 PLAY [broadband streaming mp3]


DIY Top 12 Clip Show - Song Pages

All I Need Is the Sun
A Girl Named October
Baby Was a Friend of Mine
Kingdom of Fools
Angel's Vacation
Looking for Trouble
Someday, Baby
Someone Said Something
Too Much Trouble, Christine
Sometimes
This Perfect Day
Enslaved by an Angel


Long format clip show...
A Lunar Month of Songs [broadband streaming mp3]

DIY Clip Show - Song Pages

All I Need Is the Sun
A Girl Named October
Going Home
Baby Was a Friend of Mine
Kingdom of Fools
A Bird Hung in the Sky
There Ain't No Heart in My Heart Anymore
10,000 Years
Angel's Vacation
Looking for Trouble
Someday, Baby
Baby, I Just Got the Blues
She'd Be Mine
Pretty Little Head
When You Look Through Me
Dimmer
Someone Said Something
Big Nasty World
Blue Recollection
Too Much Trouble, Christine
Emily
What Promises Mean Today
Beta Girls Go
Thelma Lou
Sheena No Sheena
Sometimes
This Perfect Day
Enslaved by an Angel


(C)2005, TK Major

Emily

It's been a long time since I've fallen in love drifting around in a rowboat.

But it's a nice memory. Even if it seems more like a dream, now. Sometimes it seems like someone else's dream.

It wasn't, however, in someone else's dream. It was at a tiny park in the foothills just east of Orange, California -- undoubtedly now surrounded by condo complexes if it survives at all -- then, surrounded by empty rolling hills and stands of oak.

I fell in love... but she didn't. Still, it seemed like such a good idea, I took a string of girls there, trying to recapture that lost moment. Other girls may have fallen in love with me... but I never got that moment back.

The song -- or at least its inspiration -- also owes more than a little to a number of works by Brian Eno, most notably "By This River."

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EMILY

On a lake
the faded yellow row boat
drifts in lazy circles
while I fall in love with you

Emily Emily
watch the sky go around
Emily Emily
watch the sky

Willows weep
tears melt in cool water
your white cotton dress
you warm brown legs
your deep green eyes
Emily

Emily Emily
watch the sky go around
Emily Emily
watch the sky

(C)1982, TK Major