Climate: Bred Mice All Songs by Nathan Beach & Grant Kuneman (c) 1999 Bryan's Cabin Songs (ASCAP) "Racket Man" Porcelain vase on the captain's case Shipping slaves to the southern states While northern slaves in factories wait In silent awe their breath they bate Underground roads for railway boats And he really would like to take your coat Because he's standing at the door in a red-tailed suit With a frilly white shirt and a black-toed boot Now he's ringing on the bell for dinner and juice It's pecan pie night with roasted goose He strips himself down to a white loin-cloth He warms up the crowd with a juggling act Slipping the racket out of its case He holds it up to his jet-black face Over his head and down his sides Over his hips and past his thighs Northern masses waiting for the whistle Longing for a supper full of rocks and gristle Sixteen straight hours until their dismissal Down their pale white skin sweat tends to drizzle Breathing in coal while chillin' in the mines Coal black lungs while working on the lines Immigrants wishing they could go home With backpacks filled with games and prizes Slipping the racket out of its case He holds it up to his jet-black face Over his head and down his sides Over his hips and past his thighs "Help The Elderly Compete" She went to the city she bought a new hat Hot water and broken glass I'm gonna take it to the midway Write her a letter Mrs. Brown say Ten tons of molten tears gotta roll it to the downtown Where did you buy that fat house? Potato fun time doing it up they gonna do it down Where did you drive that fat new car? Parisian ghetto l-u-v funna spread it on tha burnt toast Where did you find such a fat cat? Cuddle bear migration north gonna see her in fort month Where did you take my fat friend, Ernie? Cracked teef, dey nibble on the solomolo hot jing-jang She's seven times seven times eight Wiggle toes and crack yo feet build it up fo tha heat wave I saw what you did Fake clowns and circus dogs tell the story of the big top Behind the store Wire hat ebony pants help the elderly compete On November 3rd Telephone knockin on his brain betta tell em to call back 1984 Seven five 0 8 zero gonna bring it on home now He played ball while his brother took a walk Lemonade day dreams to-night never give and never live With his cane in his hand he walked through the town Flashlight on winter beams fold the holy down tradition Much that we read in good dirty magazines Falling out of time, they switch the arrow back to seven Gots significant value and internal fucking rhyme Mismatched ignition, there's no groove like the last one And onomatopoeia and a twist a lime Call it premonition, I think he's following Nicole He gave the horse something to eat Mousetrap biting back the hand that follows every move The girl's flowers are beautifully green Twister opens up the door that used to be wide open The father's watch is dancing on the floor Spiral senate soul that never forgets lies The girls of the next generation Marquee match up the bottom half of time "Jesus!" Jesus has some friends Their names are Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John I met the lot of them on Wednesday night They talked of blind men's souls and internal light Thursday night, the sky was luminous I saw Him coming through the clouds He brought a megaphone and things for lunch We had a party with cake and punch He told us parables We had some cake He threw some sinners in the fiery lake The sea of Galilee was filled with pleasure boats People were happy and sacrificed goats He healed some children so they could walk He made the tongueless ones so they could talk Martin is gone for good He is no more in the neighborhood He burns in fiery hell He says it's fun, but not like heaven It's not that fun He took his bicycle and mobile home A plastic rake and his cordless phone I told him glands are made of things That make you swell That make you great Appendices are just for fun Beware of clowns Don't frighten nuns Hands are made for guns Don't ride green bikes Don't kiss satan's mom "3 Years After The Eruption" Three years after the eruption Things ash brown gray and black Temperamental mothers, fathers, smiling through Age lost in a free mind full of home, houses Expert witness and a lynch mob, triumphant! Stock footage strewn across the cutting room floor Tropical steam room lunches, free lunch! Tender moment a boy and his dog burying the bone Lost and found sensibilities trading post deadlines Square pegs in square holes don't fit Batteries weak or dead picture too light, overexposed Harvard doctors link liquor to sex, brilliant! Textbook deliveries now run on time The little brown box full of prizes, toys Four light squares illuminate rooms, blinds drawn Two chairs set in stereo Left, right, a common bond Red felt white pages A government listing Who's been left out? Friends? family? sex? Four legs in a bucket standing at the door One upon three upon seven Plastic container Sun-stained memories Fresh eyes, greet them! Turn it down! It's 3 PM, the dogs are sleeping! Chorus variations up to speed fake wood Tin sheets blanket frozen mountains While other children play fetch and darts Dinner plates thrown across thirty tables Napkins, spoons, forks No knives! Pin-striped leopards in man-skin suits Open doors for ladies and their loves It is never winter here It is never summer there It is never winter here It is never summer there "Sun Sunk Past Ragtime" House in the country June 1940 Chairs tipped on two toes On the veranda Sun sunk past rag time Singing a half-rhyme Hair stuck to soft cheeks Bare skin on wheat shafts Your dress made of cotton Was lost in the corn field "Julie's Clothes" Driving to the lake A day for sailing boats Chase is in the back Ron is in the front Julie's at the wheel She's wearing Julie's clothes Ron works at the garage Julie works at the bank Chase he has A crippling disease He's only eight And he tugs on Julie's clothes Ron left work at noon Julie packed her bags They packed a lunch Of cake and punch Their swimming suits And other parts of Julie's clothes Veering off the road The car burst into flames Witnesses claim They had no chance They highway lanes Were strewn with Julie's clothes Drifting in the wind Ignited gasoline And burning socks And linen shorts I'm looking for a skirt While picking up Julie's clothes I remember you In starkest black and white The way you held That boy so tight With Ron's head cracked I thought you'd never go "Fashion!" Let us stack some modals on the window sill Linger in the syntax for a month or two Have you time for hating the enlightenment? Mr. Fisk he's dying after building these Fashion! fashion! fashion! fashion! In the empty margin Fashion! fashion! fashion! fashion! In the empty margin Fashion! fashion! fashion! fashion! In the empty margin Fashion! fashion! fashion! fashion! In the empty margin Long green alleyway full of tents and trees Howard and his cat have opportunities Living out the days after lobotomy Living large just like illegal aliens Fashion! fashion! fashion! fashion! In the empty margin Fashion! fashion! fashion! fashion! In the empty margin Fashion! fashion! fashion! fashion! In the empty margin Fashion! fashion! fashion! fashion! In the empty margin Memory my memo books a carnivore Jesus Christ you're living like a crown of thorns On your lips you taste the smell of camping stores Put some faith in locks on Robby's chest of drawers Fashion! fashion! fashion! fashion! In the empty margin Fashion! fashion! fashion! fashion! In the empty margin Fashion! fashion! fashion! fashion! In the empty margin Fashion! fashion! fashion! fashion! In the empty margin Counting back to sixty finds the mystery Breaking legs on kings will find new misery Goldilocks my meat is being gridle-fried Pots and pans will joke about a fricasee "They Can Dance" My lack of rhythm Keeps me from romance Because I'm a white guy Who can't dance Standing in the corner With cake and the punch And Mrs. Albert The math teacher Smell the Germans In the disco in leather pants They get so frisky When they dance I can't forgive them They touched you while they danced And they break-danced They can dance I could not wait to see your face that night I could not wait to smell your skin that night Your corsage fell while dancing in the light I could not wait to see your face that night "I Want To Dance" I'd like to dance but I don't know how And I don't have the money To buy a new set of dance shoes whenever I want I want to dance Can't you see through the music any more? Can't you see that a simple movement would do just fine? Why don't you do that fancy dance anymore? Let your belly shake while it carries your legs When you're dancing with Bradley or dancing with Greg Or dancing with Logan or dancing with Ted I want to dance "They Rolled Up The Rug" I haven't been to Dallas since Texas Andrew's on the stage with his baton Each corner brings a new intersection Of lines in this building I say Brown-haired girl leans over the loge She says how do you like the show so far? Mr. Hough can hit the keys really well I say, afterwards we could drive up to Richardson She rests her hand on her thigh Did you see they rolled up the rug? Yes, it used to be here and people would always trip on it Making tracks on I-75 Traffic slows on the highway Driving north to Richardson With the daughter of Mr. Adler Did you know they rolled up the rug? All Songs by Nathan Beach & Grant Kuneman (c) 1999 Bryan's Cabin Songs (ASCAP)