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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.
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(instrumental)
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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
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Zen Doggies - Oh Santa
03:17
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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
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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.
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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