Eden’s Reply (Dan Prendiville & Clinger) lyrics ©2010 Ken Clinger rosary beads and sesame seeds the notion begins to fade lemon rings where the ocean sings a canapé in the shade Apollo smiles beyond the tiles the humans cast aside rasta smart view master’s harp where dewdrop children hide the fanfare of the ancients trailing concepts in their wake prehistoric lore ignores the dna of apes tales of orcs and hobbits energize us from the screen primal seeds awaken from the slumber of our dreams charisma ooze in greens and blues the cobweb climate’s stain Andromeda splits where the Milky Way hits yet galactic cores remain in the mind’s eye we hear Eden’s reply when the gatekeeper’s lost in sleep I measure my thoughts and untangle the knots catching fragments I want to keep the clerics aghast at the messages cast from the heavenly source within wind sculptured sands reveal more of a plan than a dance on the head of a pin the measure of ancients trailing legends in their wake prehistoric codes now tend to give less than they take tales of space and angels stimulate us from the screen primal sparks igniting from the slumber of our dreams.

(instrumental)

Pretty Brain (Zidbovinesick) lyrics ©2008 Ken Clinger there go the minds of men making their claims to reason recognize faces, seeing themselves cognitive sense in season there go attention spans shallows of new perspective expressive thoughts and theory of mind limits become objectives there goes the sense of self mind of its own creation cognitive footing, mental control structure without foundation so you have this pretty brain in your wonder world living in a house of cards watch the colors swirl so you have this shiny mind without a thing to do all so easy to control you thank them for the thoughts they feed to you there go the minds of men logical thoughtful choices learning to practice, learning to lie speaking with trendy voices there go the fertile brains stewing in their solutions memories twisting till they fit in cognitive substitution there goes the modern man the crown of his own creation mentally complex, emotionally dead spiritual aberration so you have this pretty brain in your wonder world living in a house of cards watch the colors swirl so you have this shiny mind without a thing to do all so easy to control you thank them for the thoughts they feed to you

Molly, Johnny & His Ice Age Pal (Sandin-Clinger) lyrics ©2009 Ken Clinger Molly makes the leap she dives into the instinct pool her viewmaster gave messages she knows just what to do the paper paste gave her a taste of worlds both strange and new now Molly has a silent bird’s eye view Johnny has an ice age pal telepathy thru time glaciers reflect messages his brain stem finds sublime Johnny’s pal, he dreams of how to amplify sunshine His dreams and our reality converge and then combine Molly, in the instinct pool sees Johnny down below Johnny’s brain is flashing something new Johnny brings his ice age pal thru time and into view then they turn into this song to get their message thru

Real One (uncleljimandkc) lyrics ©2008 David Goard Creeping creatures are null and void – now the Real One’s – at home The Real One is a blessing – a precious – comfort zone. Lay, lay – lay on my doormat – lay at the – Sultan’s feet Tell me – who needs a stunt cat The Real One is complete. Fetch me up - a spinster – catch me a courtesan Fan it, fan it - fan it to life – the dancing – leopard - of Kurdistan No competition – no inhibition – no concern - for consequence Tell me – who needs a stunt cat No one - with common sense. She was the kinda girl that wouldn’t leave ya She was - the sweetest - one of all. We knew the Real One couldn’t de - ceive ya But then she heard – the call – of the wild. Did she see a meerkat – alert – and - off all fours Did she see a cheetah – that leapt – and ran - and roared Pre-Raphaelite-hermaphrodite – Ophelia meets Maine Coon Whatever - creature you are You’ll be – with them soon. Real One tensed on the roadside – she felt her time had come Real One knew she was - on the slide – goodbye to – days of fun. Order me a stunt cat – that can jump – and purr – and claw A stand-in that does – everything - so what was the - Real One for? Real One recalls - the days of grey – pants - and bra’s Even when - she’s in the gutter Wide-eyed – be-neath the stars. She was the kinda girl that wouldn’t leave ya She was the sweetest one of all. We knew the Real One couldn’t de - ceive ya But then she heard – the call – of the wild…wild…wild and free.

Ken Clinger Wrote (Miz Ellen & KC) lyrics ©2006 Ken Clinger & Ellen Mizell Ken Clinger wrote: Ken Clinger wrote: "Am I talking to myself?" Then he realized he wasn't talking, but typing. Whether to himself or Miz Ellen or the universe in general was another matter. "I'd like to stop doing the same thing all the time," Ken Clinger wrote. Wondering why his name could not be joined with other verbs, had his name misbehaved, this was his punishment?, Ken Clinger wrote."It is Wednesday already," Ken Clinger wrote, "at least in Japan, but it's still Tuesday here." Though it was now Wednesday, so he assumed it was Thursday in Japan, where Sony was, whose anti-Apple attitude had his Minidisc recorder and computer at odds with each other. This apparent inner dialog I'm having is rather schizoid. "Who is this I?", Ken wondered. Then Ken Clinger wrote of Vladimir Horowitz, though he wasn't that big of a fan, but did note that in epic form, Ken Clinger wrote, even though he wasn't certain what would define "epic form": something beyond the norm? And probably rather lengthy. Are there short epics?  One would have to call them epic lectics if so.  Epics about epileptics.  Monty Python would make it a relentless comedy, Herzog would make it a relentless tragedy. In an unbrakeable code, Ken Clinger wrote: "I just can't stop myself," though if it was unbrakeable, no one else would be able to read it, so he didn't bother writing it after all, because he missed the pun and ran over his own foot. Ken Clinger wrote complete nonsense, or so it appeared to the uninitiated. To whom? Those who didn't realize it was the truth of all truths and who could not reed the secret white on white type font. Ken Clinger wrote:    Do you really spend much time on this issue?  What about cartoon characters: do they prefer to be crushed by a safe or a piano? Generally the piano, because it offers a chance to have some interesting sound effects. That's a musician who doesn't like pianos talking.  And I agree. That's true, I don't like pianos talking. They should concentrate on the music. Audaciously, while wondering if the "aud-" has any connection with "audio", Ken Clinger wrote: "I wonder if "awk" has anything to do with "awkward"? Replying to the last one first, Miz Ellen noted that Ken Clinger wrote In truncated prose, and wondered what to do with the leftover material after the truncation.  Ken Clinger wrote, wondering if truncated implied incomprehensible: Not necessarily, and even his untruncated prose was often incomprehensible. Ken Clinger wrote: Aren't awks rather awkward? If someone moves towards an awk, are... So you then unfinished the sentence? Ken Clinger wrote:       My finger unfinished what my brain had created. I'll leave it to you to decide whether you were moving toward an awk.  I have to know if an awk is nearby, to do that. Ellen Miz ellen wrote: As she read the following, she seriously thought of buying Ken a dictionary: Ken Clinger wrote: The cloud of hecticness (hecnicity?) has temporarily abated. If she were clairvoyant, she would know that Ken has a few dictionaries, including one supposedly unabridged one. She knew full well that Ken would rather ask questions about words and their spelling, rather than find the answers in dictionaries, and would ignore any dictionary available. She also suspected he enjoyed coining "incorrect" words, because he found humor in their "wrongness". But she also wondered if he wondered if she liked having thoughts attributed to her this way. Though momentarily irritated, she remembered she had been doing the same thing at the beginnings of his messages, and so she resumed planning what she would do after she finished this message attributing to him thoughts he had never had until now, wondering if he was irritated. Aided by technology, Ken Clinger actually wrote: Somehow it seems strange to just end this message there, so I'm ending it with this sentence instead. And then he became quite disoriented, since he was at the beginning of another message. He also pondered how if "oriented" was connected with "facing east", what would "disoriented" imply, "facing west" or just "facing anywhere but east"? I became guilty at putting words under your pen so I used some actual words you actually wrote, both of us being assisted by technology. Ken Clinger wrote: I looked under my pen, and didn't find any words there, so they must have run away. Toward the awk. No doubt about it. Intensely concentrating, though unfortunately on other things, Ken Clinger wrote: I wonder what I could do if I were not thinking about something else. He then wondered what he was supposed to be concentrating on in the first place. Ken Clinger wrote: this piece should have ended long ago, but would have to end now, out of exhaustion.

Little Clockwork Man (Ray Carmen & Ken Clinger) lyrics ©2003 Ken Clinger little clockwork man in his little clockwork town mayor of the clockwork toys but he still wears a frown has no sense of humor, has no sense of fun all the clockwork toys decide that something must be done meeting in secret, they hatch a plan for a clown and a crown and a clockwork band for the little clockwork man at the hour of noon in the little clockwork square all the clockwork toys they gather for a clockwork fair calling for the mayor, they announce he must be judge for a laughing contest, where the prize will be some fudge first comes a clown dressed up like a clockwork cow on its back with a crown rides a silly clockwork sow she commands the cow to bow when the cow it tries to bow, the silly sow falls off landing on a table full of clockwork stroganoff then the clockwork band plays out of tune rachmaninoff first the clockwork mayor acts confused, and then a cough then something clicks and he makes a little smile then he giggles and laughs for a long long while

Three-Chord Circle (Lisiecki-Clinger) lyrics ©2010 Ken Clinger three chord circle opening to let three wise men in three bears welcome Goldilocks they know just where she’s been triangles begin to wander across three-sided plains searching for three jewels of Buddha beyond three worlds of pain three strikes you’re out we’re three sheets to the wind third time’s the charm the third eye looks in meanwhile three musicians play a minuet and waltz they translate every tune to have a triple metered pulse three dimensions interact with density and time three pure ones of Tao respond in harmony and rhyme three strikes you’re out we’re three sheets to the wind third time’s the charm the third eye looks in

Long Walk on a Short Pier (Mars Dark) lyrics ©2009 Ken Clinger take a long walk on a short pier baby take a long walk with me you’ll see sites you’ve never seen maybe visit the deep blue sea take a long walk on a short pier honey hey babe what do you say some things can’t be bought with money come on don’t delay take a long walk on a short pier sweetie just close your eyes and ream I’m sure we’ll end up in Tahiti lounge by a tropical stream take a long walk on a short pier baby take a long walk with me take a long walk with me long walk on a short pier long walk on a short pier

North-West Passage (Isokon Flats & KC) lyrics (PD) Robert Louis Stevenson (Good-night) When the bright lamp is carried in, The sunless hours again begin; O'er all without, in field and lane, The haunted night returns again. Now we behold the embers flee About the firelit hearth; and see Our faces painted as we pass, Like pictures, on the window glass. Must we to bed indeed? Well then, Let us arise and go like men, And face with an undaunted tread The long black passage up to bed. Farewell, O brother, sister, sire! O pleasant party round the fire! The songs you sing, the tales you tell, Till far to-morrow, fare you well! (Shadow March) All around the house is the jet-black night; It stares through the window-pane; It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light, And it moves with the moving flame. Now my heart goes beating like a drum, With the breath of the phantoms in my hair; And all around the candle and the crooked shadows come, And go marching along the stair. The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp, The shadow of the child that goes to bed-- All the wicked shadows coming tramp, tramp, tramp, With the black night overhead. (In Port) Last, to the chamber where I lie My fearful footsteps patter nigh, And come out from the cold and gloom Into my warm and cheerful room. There, safe arrived, we turn about To keep the coming shadows out, And close the happy door at last On all the perils that we past. Then, when mother goes by to bed, She shall come in with tip-toe tread, And see me lying warm and fast And in the land of Nod at last.