Those Kind of Eyes

You’re too scared to watch TV
You’re terrified of telephones
The newspaper’s the same each day,
so let’s save our sane remains and sign off...

So don’t be crying, wipe those tears up off your pretty eyes,
before I’m crying too.
Come on darling you can feel the love if you want to.

Well, it’s hard to be a cynic,
lying in the afterglow.
We’ll leave the fighting to the fighters,
we can stay beneath the covers, and wake up in June...

There’s nothing wrong with having faith that we’ll see better times,
because we’ll pull on through.
So come on darling let me see the light I know’s inside of you.

Hands down you’re looking finer than I ever could dream.
(So I said) Damn girl, how bright the light you shine on me.
And although these times are tough,
we’re getting down with getting off.
When I’m touching your body, I’m in touch with my soul.

And we’ll take off all our clothes,
lay displayed in candle light.
While we may not save the world here girl,
we can do our little part here tonight.

The sun will come up again, every night’s gotta end,
just look what some hope can bring.
The biggest things are small, a tender touch can change it all,
we’re moving on by standing up and making love.

But we ain’t taking the same way, after tonight we won’t be the same,
but perhaps this guitar can better show you how I feel...

Postcards from Rio

Fast to come fall, in Rio this year.
I’m hoping the sun might stay up at least for a while.
Because I”m taking a taxi to watch airplanes landing so low in the sky,
but nostalgic grow I, candidly, I’m missing Jersey these days.

And so far, everything here reminds me of you.
I try so hard to avoid drunken calls to LA
You like those Bob Dylan Songs,
and while mine ain’t nowhere as good as his,
I leave a piece of my heart in the barroom each time i’m singing this.

The locals they talk, about what I don’t know.
My grasp of the tongue here is poor, I’ve come hardly prepared.
But my exit was hasty, seems everything lately’s been shot from the hip,
since I saw you with him, touching lips at that party, I made straight for a plane.

So I’ve decided to learn Bossa Nova.
Next time I see you, Oh!, I’ll be so over you.
Perhaps I won’t be back at all, from Rio de Janeiro
(And I) I’ve got a white tuxedo, bought second hand from our sax player Renzo.
I’ve joined a band, playing bars, where dancing seems fun for a change.

And I met a mocha skinned gal called Aileen.
We’ve grown fond of cachacas downed straight on the beach.
While our time has come and gone, and I, likely won’t be seeing you again,
I’ll always remember your smile, each time I’m singing this.

A Song For Ella Mae

I’ve got a feeling inside that my time keeps passing quicker,
got me thinking back to when I was cool.
When me and my friends would bring girls to Beachwood Canyon,
for tequila and some dancing by the light of the moon.

Olympic White, it was the shade that turned my blues around,
perhaps you’ve heard the news about how she showed me how...

I found soul in an electric guitar.
My long lost lover brings me back to where I came from.
Oh Ella, may I have this dance.
It took you to remind me who I am.

I don’t know why, where, or when, those times would find their end.
One day I woke up, I was playing the fool.
Feeling slow, drunk and old, paying dues as I was told.
Had it not been for this guitar, hell, I’d rather not know...


Hang In There, Kiddo

I’m waiting at a diner at a quarter to two,
got five dollars in my pocket and I’m waiting for your call by the payphone.
The waitress smiles at me as she fills up my cup,
she tells me that they’re closing, but she doesn’t rush, she changes my ashtray.

It’s late in New Jersey, it’s time to go home.
She sleeps like a lady, I pass out alone.

I sleep too late on Saturday, and on Sunday too,
my breakfast is a cigarette, I’m all fucked up, this morning is mayhem.
My clothes are somewhat bloody and I’m suddenly broke,
I know what makes me happy, but still I’m fucked, I’m chasing a dream now.

We all laugh at the same clown,
with his painted face.

Erase these bad tattoos, scrawled across my arms, scarred ink spots,
memories of you.
You were always bad, bad news.

You’re a dry spell, in the middle of the springtime.
You’re a hail storm when it ain’t even been raining.
You’re a love affair, when everyone hates me but you.
(but you)

I hope these yellow pills have a potent effect.
My dreams are getting nasty and the horoscope’s predicting a bloodbath.
I make final arrangements for my travels back home.
My red-eye’s a revolver and this hollow-point’s creating a saint now.

I get high on a rain cloud.
You’re slipping away.
When’s the last time we made out.
I remember your taste.

Erase these bad tattoos, scrawled across my arms, scarred ink spots,
memories of you.
You were always bad, bad news.

You’re a dry spell, in the middle of the springtime.
You’re a hail storm when it ain’t even been raining.
You’re a love affair, when everyone hates me but you.
I’m alone, jacked up on a barstool...


Curve

Damn, do my eyes decieve?
It’s been so long that I can not believe,
my sunshine came from down the street.
And oh, ain’t it so ironic how, the small stuff just don’t matter now.
Your sighs are my new favorite sound.

Daylight through my curtains breach,
my dreams recede and melancholy seeps,
but then I see you next to me.
And oh, I smile silent, watch you wake.
Let us lay, the world’s insane, alarm is silent, peace remains.

And oh, I think, no I believe - I adore you.
So press those pretty lips to mine
I’ve lain awake at night,
praying that I’d find that perfect lady,
and that she’d complete my I

And your curves, they’re the spark that soon ignites.
They’re the flames that burn much brighter,
than Hollywood neon, Parisian city lights,
of all the sights I’ve seen, none were finer, they could never be,
than you.

My heartbeat.
Your touch.
I’m leaving sad days baby.
I’ve finally,
found you.
Who moves me? You do darling.

Shades remain as candles die.
I acquiesce and dim the bedside lights,
shadow mosaic, you and I.
And oh, my hands they feel what eyes can’t see.
A single tear runs down my cheek,
in thanks to god.
Of our two souls he made a “we”... 

All songs Copyright 2010 Green Place Productions LLC / Bad Maxie Records




© 2011 Green Place Productions LLC.