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Earth is Big Lyrics
The Jr. Science Club Theme We are popular We wear headphones We are talking now Talk in the microphone We dont care what you say But we care what you do Were the invisible entity That looks out for you Were watching your every move With our x-ray machine (We are watching) Theres nothing that you can hide That we cannot see (We are watching) CHORUS: We will be the ones who make things go We will be the ones who tell you so We conduct experiments to know We will be there when the world explodes (2X) Put your head under our microscope And see whats inside (Put your head) A little warning sign Says Access Denied (Put your head) We understand the logic We can do the math Were surrounded by statistics And were drowning in graphs Jump like an electron Exchanging its shell Emit that little glow We know so well We are popular We wear headphones We are talking now Talk in the microphone CHORUS: We will be the ones who make things go We will be the ones who tell you so We conduct experiments to know We will be there when the world explodes (2X) Theres nothing weird about science Its better to have lost and found Than to never have lost at all (It is better) A celluloid transparency Projected on the wall (It is better) Weve got our fingers crossed In the fourth dimension 365 degrees of ascension Combining forward momentum With angular ascent By the time that were gone You might know what we meant CHORUS: We will be the ones who make things go We will be the ones who tell you so We conduct experiments to know We will be there when the world explodes (2X) I came out of a long bout of writer's block with an epiphany--I will change the name of my group so I can think in different ways! The Jr. Science Club is my ticket to rock. I'm not going to change the music much. It's just a psychological thing. Don't worry. This song took me sixteen hours to record. Music on one day, sleep off the backache of sitting at the four-track, six tracks of vocals and editing the next day. I can safely say this is my most rocking song yet. This also marks the first time I've played the guitar myself and used real chords. What I Did (To The Cat) It was a quarter past three in the morning Had to get up at six fifteen Then the cat started making little noises for attention Or perhaps just to be mean I must have gone crazy cause all I could think was Put the cat put the cat put the cat in the sink It was the middle of the night I didn't turn on the light I knew she was there I heard a sound I turned around to find the cat that made the sound Sitting on a chair Put the cat put the cat put the cat in the sink Put the cat put the cat put the cat in the sink I grabbed the cat around the middle and she struggled just a little But I held tight We made our way down the hall to the bathroom with the Little yellow nightlight Put the cat put the cat put the cat in the sink Put the cat put the cat put the cat in the sink Put cat in sink turn water on she's wet I'm going back to bed She didn't make another sound guess the water calmed her down So it would seem I fell asleep and had a dream what a dream What a mighty mighty good dream Put the cat put the cat put the cat in the sink Put the cat put the cat put the cat in the sink Put the cat put the cat put the cat in the sink Put the cat put the cat put the cat in the sink Put the cat put the cat put the cat in the sink Put the cat put the cat put the cat in the sink The cat wakes me up every night. I don't like it. Sometimes I get frustrated. Does she want more food? Does she want water? Does she want me to get up and have fun chasing her around in the dark? Does she care about my needs as a sleepy person? The Audubon Society The Audubon Society was formed, not in 1883 But in 1886 by George Grinnell He found it hard to justify the number of native birds who died To satisfy the hat-shop clientele He said Why do we shoot them from the sky When theyre only passing by Why not count the birds instead They cant sing if they are dead If theyre stuffed and on your head Or baked into a pie The chicken on that fencepost Laid the eggs to make my french toast I know you like french toast. I know you do. French toast! An inspired little ditty about birds and how they lay eggs. Do they do it for fun? Who knows! Paranoid What did you think you heard when You thought you heard somebody Behind the mirror at the mini-mart? They let the air out of your Cutlass Sierras tires And left you stranded in the parking lot Hey-you-do you wanna be paranoid forever? If your eyes are dollar signs Theyll tell you what to think Hey-you-do you wanna get out of this situation? Theyll never touch you if Your eyes are on the blink Better watch your step Better walk a little faster Better have eyes in the back of your head--whoa Maybe they know youre onto something Youre better safe than sorry Youre better paranoid than dead--whoa Hey Hey Hey Hey Theyve got the pompadours The two-by-fours, theyre keeping score Theyre all around and now theyre Pounding on your door The spastic semaphore says, Apple core, Baltimore Now whos your friend? Well, think again How can you be so sure? Now you better watch your step You better walk a little faster You better have eyes in the back of your head--whoa Maybe they know youre onto something Youre better safe than sorry Youre better paranoid than dead--whoa I started with a hornline sample from Albrot's song, "Feedbag." Then I used Virtual Drummer for the rhythm tracks, played keyboard lines over the top, and sang. Pretty standard layering-type stuff. Except there's a lot more of it in this one. Squee! I like strawberry banana nectar. Bubba's Throat (Cough, cough!) It's hard on my throat! Aaaa! Ooo! Aaa! I Want To Rock It was my thirteenth birthday Mom bought me a guitar She said, "Learn 'Bridge Over Troubled Water'" And I said, "But Mom, I want to-- Rock. Because I like to rock. Rock. Come on, I want to rock. Rock. I wanna, I wanna wanna wanna Rock. Are you gonna let me Spend my days in a purple haze Mid-to-late eighties was the glory days Nelson and Aerosmith grindin' their axes Crotch pants, booty dance, cheatin' on taxes I don't wanna listen to Yanni or Goth I wanna hear Eddie wail with David Lee Roth KISS and The Clash, Prince and The Cure Back when rock was pure WAAAAAAAAA!!!! I learned Bridge Over Troubled Water Mom said, "That's my little boy! You'll be such a fine musician!" And I said, "But Mom, I want to Rock. So I smashed my guitar. Rock. And I stole my mom's car. Rock. But then I realized-- Rock. I just smashed... my guitar... How am I gonna rock now? God damn. An experiment in looping music tracks together with a computer. I like the fact that not one bit of the song even remotely approaches anything sounding even slightly like it might resemble music with might remind you of sounds remotely close to indicating the influence or even the presence of rock. Calculator Love Bought myself a calculator At the corner store Brought it home an hour later Added up the score If you really love me darlin' Count it up and see And we can solve our problems With some trigonometry The square of the sum of the hypotenuse of the radian times the denominator I love you I'd wanted to do this song for a long time, but I had no idea what it was about. Now I do. You can't solve your romantic problems logically! And you can't get Alvin to speed rehab because he's too wiry and quick to catch. Watertown Welcome to Watertown Where it's all your fault I'm working insecurities At the shopping mall The doctor is a maniac But the air is free Second-hand oxygen Is all I breathe This is a town with a melody The birds sing it back to me Until I hold my hands up And say why don't you stop And I think I'm on the verge of insanity And I lost my wallet, my car keys, My shoes and my socks and I Think that I'm losing my mind Staring at pendulums I watch my step Walking intangibly On a cigarette This is a town with a history The voices sing it back to me Until I hold my hands up And say why don't you stop And I'm paying my respects to my anatomy Couldn't help it Water, water everywhere But not a thought to think Welcome to Watertown Where it's all your fault I couldn't find the 50's Doo-Wop category here, so I thought Blues Rock would be the closest thing. This song sounds like it could be the intro to a musical play. Recorded using four-track and Pro-Tools. OhMyGodImOnFire See him running from the porch Like some kind of human torch Orange tendrils everywhere Acrid stench of burning hair Flailing like a drowning bird In the dirt he scrawls this word OHMYGODIMONFIRE Burning bright from head to shoe Stopping, dropping, rolling too La la la la la la la la La la la la la la la Local news is on the scene See the writing on the screen OHMYGODIMONFIRE SOMEBODYPUTMEOUT FORCRYINGOUTLOUD I can hear the neighbors say 'Never liked him anyway' As I watch on my t.v. They sweep away his dusty plea OHMYGODIMONFIRE Another victim of spontaneous combustion. Tokyo Narita (The Water Is Made Of Rain) Why is the rain so wet, so wet? Why is the rain so wet? Why is the rain so wet, so wet? Why is the rain so freaking wet? It's made of water Made of water Made of water Maybe it's just that the water's made of rain Why are my tears so wet, so wet? Why are my tears so wet? Why are my tears so wet wet wet wet? Why are my tears so wet? They're made of water Made of water Made of water Maybe it's just that the water's made of tears You want the attendant to fill it up. You say... Random random It's there! What is this car called? It's made of water Made of water Made of water Maybe it's just that the water's made of ...? (laughing) (screaming) Wait! Tokyo, narita. Tokyo, narita. Tokyo, na-ree-ta. This is a great, catchy song about speaking Japanese. Although I don't believe the lyrics truly reflect this, Japanese is a difficult language to learn, no matter how easy they say it is. Big Mistake* Music and lyrics 1999 by Clint Hoagland/Ryan Arnholt/Bob Peplinski. Arranged and performed 2000 by Logan Whitehurst. Farewell, Hesperus Givin' fives to the jive-talking choirboy The rocking chair lady said "You stinker!" Everybody's packing a hairpiece On the channel with the funny name Sixteen miles to the nearest food The rocking chair lady said "You stinker!" Neck, spine, anklebone, finger, and foot The ship is sinking and that ain't good CHORUS Farewell, Hesperus We hope it didn't bleed too much Farewell, Hesperus Your drawing skills are a definite strength So whatcha gonna do now? Gotta make it look right Gotta stay up twenty-five hours a night Damn the torpedoes and make my lunch Make a peanut-butter sandwich and a gallon of punch When the sun goes down in Watertown Better get a life jacket so he doesn't drown If I don't call it doesn't mean I care The rocking chair lady said Amy, your sandwich is ready, Amy CHORUS "You stinker!" Isle of Monkeys My little instrumental tribute to Monkey Island, one of the best series of games ever. I wish I knew how to program MIDI instead of doing everything by hand... Farkle, New and Improved!!! Another commercial for the inimitable¸ berproduct, Farkle! (She's) Ten Feet Tall I'm on the phone with her And she says shes tired Of being unpredictable So shes going to go to Portland Shes going to go away I dont care if shes crazy I heard lycanthropy is curable It takes a bulldozer to knock her down And she gets back up again She gets back up again Shes ten feet tall Shes ten feet tall And Im intimidated Sirens down the highway Lights flash on and off and on Footsteps down the fire escape And shes never seen again Shes never seen again Spray paint in the subway Broken glass in my coffee cup The waitress says Im sorry about that And she takes the cup away She puts it on her tray Wheres my coffee Wheres my sense of direction Shes ten feet tall Shes ten feet tall And Im intimidated Nothing like a little drum loop to break you out of a songwriting slump. Just like honey to the bee, baby. A Matter of Twine At eleven-o-six My watch stopped ticking My telephone started to ring The voice on the line said --Have you got the twine? Then I started to sing I said CHORUS: What's so important 'bout peaches and cream Wake up and start living It's a beautiful dream The box spring's turning In the music machine And your grandmother's Run from the room It's only a matter of twine before I Have run for the exit too The meter's full The moon needs a quarter My name is caught in a tree The one-armed bandit stole my arms Now they all think he's me Because he said CHORUS I recorded the piano at Sonoma State University in the music department late at night. I like their pianos. I think this song has a lot of meaning, but I'm not quite sure what it is. I have an idea, though--it's about the formation of coral atolls in the Pacific ocean. No, that's not it... They Were Not Their Normal Size This is the thing That took me by Complete and utter Surprise I saw my hands On television And they were not Their normal size This is the thing That made me stop And check my pockets Again I heard the voices Come from my wallet A twenty arguing With a ten It is very likely That you have subconsciously Helped to create this situation To balance something youve done in the past Well, they weren't. What I Ain't Got∫ Oh no I ain't got a job I ain't got a car I ain't got a dime to my name I ain't got a girl I ain't got a home And I need to shave my ears I found the intro of this song at www.mp3.com/albrot. Simple, to the point, and marking a collaboration between him and me, this is a rearrangement, elaboration, and a FULLY AUTHORIZED reproduction of his song. Check out his original version at his website, here on good old mp3.com, where the flying monkeys live eternally! Why Don't They Call It Art? CHORUS: I'm standing on my head My feet are in the air I see my feet and they are in the air They're in the air I'm standing on the ground My feet are on the ground I see my feet and they are on the ground They're on the ground What is this thing called Existentialism? What is this thing called Neo-Dadaism? What is this thing called Post-Impressionism? What is this thing called Neo-Classicism? Why don't they call it art? Why don't they call it good? Why don't they call it cool? Why don't they call it something monosyllabic? CHORUS CHORUS I was so stressed about my art history midterm that I got a pimple on my chin. Not just a little whitehead--no. One of those big honkers that consume your whole face like big red leeches. This is a song about how I hate over-classification and multi-syllabicity. Well, I aced the midterm, which is surprising since I wrote this song instead of studying. Typical. Saturday, 2:43 PM The sun is very bright today And still the clouds are big and gray I wonder why that makes me think of you The light that lands upon your face Is from the depths of outer space A billion years from Western Avenue CHORUS: My emotional survival Depends on your arrival Right hand on the Bible Do you solemnly swear That you'll keep our agreement And meet me on the pavement And come to my apartment At the top of the stairs I'll sing a little breakup song Until I see you come along Or maybe I will write that song for you And then a circuit in my brain Will explode, and there you'll be again And we can count the craters on the moon CHORUS A sudden connection A flying sensation A little celebration As I crumble to the ground A painful situation Followed by the realization That there's a somber congregation Standing all around You're there among the fading crowd I smile and then I sing aloud 'Goodbye, Goodbye' is all I have to say It seems as though I should have known But then I never would have flown It doesn't seem too high a price to pay Although I may be dying My body may be lying Taxis may be crying In a chorus of cars Reality receding My heart no longer beating My life will not be fleeting When I'm out among the stars I did a demo of this song a long time ago with a cheesy piano sound. When I recently spent time at Hyde Street Studios in San Francisco, helping my friends in the band Luckie Strike with their recording, I was tempted to bring my four-track in and record a definitive version of the song using the in-studio equipment. Liz's drums were already set up, and all I needed to do was mic the piano and the marimba. The engineer was very helpful and let me use their good microphones. I tried not to be too surreptitious, but everyone seemed to be into it anyway, so I thank them for that, and for their patience in waiting for me to do good takes of the tracks before moving to another instrument. I had never played the marimba before. See, that takes a little getting used to. I sat in the artist lounge the next day and recorded the vocals. I think everyone could hear me in the kitchen. Sid Sheinberg Sings! CP Violation Song An assignment for my Cosmology class. It went over pretty well, but I think I lost everybody around the middle of Sid's exposition. That's okay, it lost me too. |
